<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629</id><updated>2011-07-29T07:13:29.364-05:00</updated><category term='The Mundane'/><category term='Hockey'/><category term='Kids'/><category term='Life'/><category term='The Family'/><category term='Country Living'/><category term='Menu Plan'/><category term='Recipes'/><category term='Cassidy'/><category term='Chickens'/><category term='House Updates'/><title type='text'>Living in Hicksville, Tx</title><subtitle type='html'>Ramblings of a mom and wife that just moved from a little city to a teeny town.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>64</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-4505196436583169876</id><published>2011-07-22T09:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-22T09:52:40.375-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Believe...</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt; 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 mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;  mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;  mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="holy%20mama"&gt;Holy Mama&lt;/a&gt; just wrote a great post on what she believes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Because I believe in swiping other people’s genius when stumped for something to blog…here’s my own list.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(Feel free to imagine Larry the Cable guy narrating if you will – heaven knows I did)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe that if you have a job, you are expected to come to work every day unless you’re hurling, bleeding or unconscious.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Do not call in with a headache, or “female issues.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We all know you just don’t want to work today.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And that irks the rest of us.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe that there is nothing as satisfying as a freshly weeded section of your garden.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe that front porches should be mandatory – as well as porch time.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think that if more people took the time to sit on their porch of an evening and just let themselves be – we’d all be happier.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe in telling the people you love “I love you” every time you talk to them on the phone – even if rotten teenagers won’t say it back.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe that while parents shouldn’t *flaunt* their active ‘marital life’ in front of their kids – they shouldn’t pretend it doesn’t exist.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We should never give our kids the impression that once they are married the fun stuff stops.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Pfft on that buster.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;An active marital life is healthy – and we should make sure our kids know that. (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In a non-icky way of course.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe in the right to bear arms.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I don’t believe in the right to own a machine gun.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe in capital punishment.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe in a woman’s right to choose.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Not my body, not my choice.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe we cannot throw away those who are on hard times.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe there should be time limits on welfare.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s supposed to help them out, not be a way of life.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe there is not a political party in this country that encompasses my beliefs, which is why I rarely engage in political discussions.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Because I think they’re all wrong.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe political discussions are a big ole waste of time anyway.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;No one wants to hear your point of view unless you agree with them so why engage?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe you can’t spoil a baby before six months.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If they’re crying, pick ‘em up and love on ‘em.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Babies need to be nurtured, and trust me – it won’t be just the baby that benefits.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe in hugs.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe that friends make life richer in so many ways.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I cannot imagine life without my girlfriends.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I believe EVERYONE should laugh hard every day.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe Satan came up with gray hair.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Bastard.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe I should have a pool.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Unfortunately, my husband believes pools are a PITA, and he won that battle.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe having a dog makes everyone’s life better.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I also believe that having a kitty would make life better as well, but my husband won that battle too.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hmph.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe that reading is as necessary as food to some people – including myself.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Therefore I insist on having time to just sit and read every day, even if it’s just 30 minutes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I believe I could sit here and type up tons of other stuff, but let’s face it – I’m about to get all self-indulgent with this post, so I think I’ll just stop here and ask – what do you believe?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-4505196436583169876?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/4505196436583169876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-believe.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/4505196436583169876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/4505196436583169876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-believe.html' title='I Believe...'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-7483644034437355748</id><published>2011-07-11T17:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-11T17:49:08.093-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chickens'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>Vacation Gone Wild</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt; 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  &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="32" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Reference"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="33" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Book Title"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="37" name="Bibliography"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Table Normal";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-priority:99;  mso-style-qformat:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin:0in;  mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;  line-height:115%;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:11.0pt;  font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";  mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;  mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 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 &lt;/span&gt;At 10 am on Saturday, we met my most kind dentist at his office and he ground that particular tooth down and suggested we might have to pull it since it’s already had two root canals – the most recent one just a few months ago.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Woohoo!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;By 2 pm that afternoon, we discovered I cannot take hydrocodone with acetaminophen without getting nauseous and all those fun things that go along with nausea.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;By 4 pm, I looked like a chipmunk storing nuts for the winter in my cheek.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Not the best look for me.  Just sayin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Needless to say, I didn’t get much yard work done last week.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And we won’t even go into the whole unsuccessful IUD retrieval procedure on Tuesday.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was not my week.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; But – I did finally get my house cleaned.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Well, parts of it anyway.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And the strawberry bed got weeded.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We also harvested our first yellow squash from the one volunteer squash plant that came up in the corn.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;None of our melon/squash/cucumber section came up.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Only volunteers in other parts of the garden.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’re grateful for whatever &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;did &lt;/span&gt;come up since it’s been so darn dry this year.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’ve had maybe an inch and a half of rain since January.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We see clouds and get our hopes up, then it rains somewhere else.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;*sigh*&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; My Rhode Island red hen is sitting on banty eggs at the moment.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She tries sitting on the leghorn’s eggs, but since we don’t have a full size rooster, we sneak those out when she’s eating, since nothing is going to hatch out of those eggs anyway.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’re keeping our fingers crossed that maybe we’ll get a few new babies!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I’ve lost 5 of my tater plants – I’m not sure what is killing them underground, but it’s annoying me to no end.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And I’ve yet to see a single new potato on the others.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Methinks this tater experiment might be a failure.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Luckily the onions are doing pretty well, so I don’t feel like a total root crop failure.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; My eldest son turned 18 yesterday.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m having a bit of a crisis about it – but quietly, because how silly is it to have a crisis about the fact you managed to raise a handsome, intelligent, witty, kindhearted child to the age of 18?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But really – 18?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;How did that happen?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s just surreal.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Does this make me officially old?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-7483644034437355748?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/7483644034437355748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2011/07/vacation-gone-wild.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/7483644034437355748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/7483644034437355748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2011/07/vacation-gone-wild.html' title='Vacation Gone Wild'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-373713252412398437</id><published>2011-06-15T08:57:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T09:36:45.384-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chickens'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>Changing Seasons</title><content type='html'>Well hello there!  I've been very remiss in my blog duties this year - I blame my job.  I've been having to work of all things.  (Oh - I kid.  Really.  Mostly.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo - life in Hicksville has been hot and dry this year.  We're in the midst of an extreme drought of Dustbowl preportions - complete with the appearance of haboobs.  I think we have had a grand total of maybe an inch of rain since January, which has stressed my garden to no end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, we decided to attempt growing potatoes and onions - you know - root vegetables that are 90% WATER.  Yeah - not the greatest idea, but to be perfectly honest they're growing better than nearly anything else in the garden.  Certainly better than my corn and green beans and black-eyed peas.  Those have been plagued with being planted a bit too deep and not coming up (my fault), evil grackles coming along and pecking the seeds out of the ground when they weren't planted deep enough (evil birds' fault) and windburned because my heavens - the wind - it won't stop blowing.  So I'm not very optimistic that I'm going to have much of a corn crop this year.  Heck - at this point I doubt I'll be able to even can much in the way of green beans and black eyed peas.  I think we'll have enough for meals once they start producing, but canning?  Not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of my cucumbers came up.  Neither did the cantaloupe, the honeydew, the squash or pumpkins.  One watermelon that we intentionally planted came up.  Luckily, we have volunteer squash and cantaloupe coming up by the corn &amp;amp; beans, and volunteer watermelon everywhere.  But I was really hoping to make pickles this year.  Hmph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hey!  I have 102 onions growing, and 34 potato plants.  If I can get at least a couple of pounds of taters out of each tater plant, I'll be happy.  We decided to mulch around the tomatoes and peppers this year, using a thick layer of newspapers covered with landscape fabric, and we already have little green tomatoes.  I attempted yet again to grow tomatoes from seed as well, and so far have around 12 that have survived and are just about ready to be planted and covered with a milk jug until they're big enough to survive the desert on their own.  Unfortunately, the wind got my peppers.  That makes me very sad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, we also applied something called BiotaMax to the garden.  An old buddy of mine from high school has a company that came up with it, and when he heard me blathering on about gardening on Facebook, he sent me a sample.  I can't help but wonder if that's why my tomatoes are doing as well as they are in all this heat and wind, but it's too early to tell.  Apparently it doesn't ward off those damn grackles.  We applied it to half of the new strawberry plants we put in this year to see if we could compare.  I'll show pictures at the end of the summer and let everyone judge for themselves if it made any difference.  Right now, the strawberries are struggling to survive in this heat.  Today it's only going to be in the mid to upper 90's.  Tomorrow - back to the 100's for the foreseeable future.  I like summer and I like the heat, but dang - I'm dreading July!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the chicken update - one of the banty hens was setting for awhile, but apparently we messed with her eggs one too many times, so she up and said 'pfft' and that was that.  No baby chicks this year.  Although our bedraggled Rhode Island Red went broody on us this weekend.  Poor darlin' - we don't have any full sized roosters, so she's sitting for naught.  The hubs is supposed to be tracking down some fertilized full size eggs for her to set on, but hasn't located any just yet.  I hope we can find some - I love baby chicks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys are enjoying summer so far - sleepin' til noon, then playing video games all day.  I can't really blame them - it's too hot to work outside by the time they get up, and it's not cooling off until 8 or 9 pm at night.  E has his first job not working for a relative this summer - he's a sacker at a grocery store in Mid-Size City and loving not having to ask mom and dad for money all the time.  (Mom and Dad are enjoying that just as much!)  E still struggles with being accepted out here and right now the other boys are still boys.  I'm not sure when teenage boys grow out of being little turds and embracing the mob mentality, but apparently it's not the summer after junior year.  *sigh*  Luckily J has embraced the "whatever dude - who cares what you think about me?" attitude and doesn't seem to be bothered by the mob.  I'm hoping E does the same soon.  He's such a smart, witty kid.  Too bad the mob doesn't have the maturity to get that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me and the hubs, we are slowly learning to adjust to life with boys that are fixin to be men.  While we enjoy being able to do more without having to track down babysitters, I have to admit missing all the time we used to spend together as a family.  Thanks to his work, poor E wasn't able to go with us to see the 1st three blockbusters of the summer movie season - and who knows when he'll be able to?  We're lucky if we get a couple of dinners together as a family every week between E's job, and summer workouts and just life in general.  And J is about to start driver's ed.  I know it's just part of the season of our lives right now, but I still struggle with having to let them go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darn kids - who said they could grow up?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-373713252412398437?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/373713252412398437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2011/06/changing-seasons.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/373713252412398437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/373713252412398437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2011/06/changing-seasons.html' title='Changing Seasons'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-5970962264375844767</id><published>2011-04-07T09:32:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T10:30:05.597-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><title type='text'>Finding Home</title><content type='html'>Last night the wind finally died down enough that I was able to plant 2 rows of yukon gold seed potatoes, 3 rows of red pontiac seed potatoes, and umpteen onions - red, yellow and white.  First things in the garden - and the official full start of gardening season.  From now on, I will spend my evenings and weekends in the garden and in the yard - weeding, mulching, watering, and eventually - harvesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some might look at that as drudgery.  For me - it's necessary.  I need that time every day to work outside in my garden and yard.  From cutting asparagus each evening to pulling weeds to watering my peas - it's how I find my peace and balance each day.  I do my best thinking and pondering while working in the garden, and I love seeing perennials come back each year, and the progress my yards and my garden makes from year to year.  Seeing the fruit of my labor so to speak - it helps with that feeling so many of us have.  The one where we feel like we're doing the same thing over and over and not accomplishing anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see what I've accomplished.  What my family has accomplished.  I see it in the landscaping, in the spread of the oregano and thyme, the blooms of the strawberries ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(The monstrous size of the little 6 inch rosemary plant that is now 4 feet tall - and at least as wide.  After just 3 years.  Sometimes nature surprises us.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we bought this property, it was a field.  We've added a house, a barn, a garage, a wellhouse, a chicken coop, trees for shade, trees for windbreaks, trees for fruit, and berry bushes.  We gave ourselves the means to feed ourselves for a good part of the year - with healthier, fresher food.  I haven't bought eggs in over a year.  I don't buy hot sauce anymore (because mine is SO much better y'all - you have no idea.)  Thanks to the aforementioned monster rosemary bush, I'll never have to buy that again either.  My hope is to not have to buy oregano, thyme or sage again, and to raise enough veggies to not have to buy canned goods over the winter.  It's an ambitious goal - but one we're hoping to accomplish. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if we only raise enough for half of winter - that's less gas we'll use driving to town to buy that stuff.  And I guarantee it will taste better than anything store bought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started with a field.  Now we have a home.  And even if life in Hicksville isn't the idyllic community we hoped for when we moved out here - I wouldn't trade it for anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Oh!  I almost forgot.  One of the banty's is setting - we should have baby chicks in a few weeks.  There is nothing as cute as baby chicks.  Will try to get pictures when they arrive.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-5970962264375844767?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/5970962264375844767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2011/04/finding-home.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/5970962264375844767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/5970962264375844767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2011/04/finding-home.html' title='Finding Home'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-5678649720877452294</id><published>2011-03-23T13:41:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T16:44:17.707-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Huh.  August 09?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x-2sKWknRd4/TYpArUvLxNI/AAAAAAAAACs/DLj0Yn0XwS8/s1600/veratile-blogger.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how that happened.  Surely it really hasn't been that long since I blogged?  But I guess it has.  About that time is when I got a new boss, and the next year and a half was just....ugh.  I won't even begin to describe it.  But I have a new boss now, and he's awesome, and I'm not just saying that because he had the foresight to hire me here at Mid-Size University 20 years ago either.  (Well - not much anyway)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So - what has been going on in Hicksville?  About the same.  The boys continue to grow up on me - they've finally figured out that they really don't have to continue wearing those bricks on their heads - and that doesn't keep them from growing anyway - darn it all.  We still have our chickens, and the gardening season has started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oddly enough, &lt;a href="http://holymama.org/"&gt;Holy Mama!&lt;/a&gt;, has given me this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x-2sKWknRd4/TYpArUvLxNI/AAAAAAAAACs/DLj0Yn0XwS8/s1600/veratile-blogger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 160px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x-2sKWknRd4/TYpArUvLxNI/AAAAAAAAACs/DLj0Yn0XwS8/s320/veratile-blogger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587349400751686866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now - normally this is given to folks she thinks are versatile bloggers - but when she gave me this, she didn't know I *had* a blog (much less one that as been ignored for lo these many months), and was telling me I needed to start one.  Ha!  So I'm one up on her.  ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along with being given this cute little thingy (and I refuse to call it an award.  Because well - she's not the only one who's weird with complements), I am supposed to list 7  random things about myself, then award this to 15 blogs.  7 random things?  THAT'S easy.  Picking 15 blogs?  That'll be a little more difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So without further ado - 7 random things about me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I've only named our regular sized chickens.  We have two of those, and 6 banty chickens, and I refuse to name them.  Because we may end up eating them someday.  Although, the white leghorn hasn't laid any eggs in a week or so and the hubby is muttering that it's time to have her for dinner.  Uh no - you are not.  Etta is just on vacation, and I'm sure she'll be laying again in no time.  Personally, I think she's sulking because she &amp;amp; Mabel don't have a rooster boyfriend and she knows no rooster boyfriend, no baby chicks, so why bother?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I am attempting to grow potatoes this year.  M is convinced you can't grow them out here, but I know darn well my grandparents did, so by golly, so can I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  I love hockey.  I also miss it a great deal.  Watching it on TV is not the same as attending 3 games a week in the winter.  I long for a chance to cheer at a home town goal, and yell mean things at the ref.  They won't let us do that at high school games in Hicksville.  All that sportsmanship stuff.  Hmph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I love to crunch numbers and gather statistics.  It's a weirdness that I've learned to embrace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  When pulling weeds and grass out of my garden and flower beds, I think mean thoughts about how I'm killing them.  That's how I get out all my aggression these days.  Again - I've learned to embrace that weirdness as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  Reading is my consuming passion.  And I'll read just about anything.  If it weren't for the library and good friends, I'd be broke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  My shyness is ridiculous.  And sporadic.  While at work, I don't have a shy bone in my body.  I am in my comfort zone.  If you are a visitor to my home, same thing.  Put me at someone else's home, around people I don't know?  I'm Mysti the Mute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now - for the 15 blogs - this says they're supposed to be new to me, so they are listed in order of recent appearance on my Google Reader:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  &lt;a href="http://wilwheaton.typepad.com/wwdnbackup/"&gt;WWdN: In Exile&lt;/a&gt;  Because I'm a closet nerd.  And Wil Wheaton's blog is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  &lt;a href="http://www.thisgardenisillegal.com/"&gt;This Garden Is Illegal&lt;/a&gt;  Because in case you hadn't noticed, I dig gardening.  (get it?  Dig gardening?  hahahahahahah - I crack myself up.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://hannahandlily.blogspot.com/"&gt;Tales of a Monkey, a Bit, and a Bean&lt;/a&gt; Following Rachel as she has rebuilt her life after losing a child.  Truly inspirational.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://reflectingrejoicing.blogspot.com/"&gt;Reflecting, writing and rejoicing &lt;/a&gt; I went tohigh  school with Shannon back in Washington state, and it's been fun to see how she's turned out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  &lt;a href="http://www.rrsahm.com/"&gt;Random Ramblings of a SAHM&lt;/a&gt; Lori is coping with life after the loss of her husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  &lt;a href="http://www.notesfromthetrenches.com/"&gt;Notes from the Trenches&lt;/a&gt; Life with 7 kids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  &lt;a href="http://susanalbert.typepad.com/lifescapes/"&gt;Lifescapes&lt;/a&gt;  Blog of Susan Wittig Albert, who also lives in Texas.  But she's in the Hill Country, which means she has bluebonnets.  I am beyond envious this time of year.  But not in July when 95 is a cool day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Who's idea was it to do *15* blogs?  That's alot of blogs!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;a href="http://blogs.caller.com/rajan/"&gt; In the Crease &lt;/a&gt;Because I miss hockey. :-(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;a href="http://www.goldbard.com/"&gt;Brian's Corner of the World&lt;/a&gt;  One of my hockey buddies who moved to San Antonio recently.  Bet he has bluebonnets too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. &lt;a href="http://www.blogantagonist.com/"&gt;Blogs Are Stupid&lt;/a&gt;  For someone who thinks that, she manages to write some of the most interesting, insightful stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. &lt;a href="http://www.backwoodshome.com/blogs/JackieClay/"&gt;Ask Jackie&lt;/a&gt;  This is the ultimate versatile blog.  If you want to know how to do anything - just ask Jackie.  She knows.  She knows everything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok - I give up.  I've run out of people.  Does this mean I can't keep my versatile thingy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(And thanks so much to Kelsey for thinking of me.  I promise - I will try to blog more often, and get some pictures of Mabel, Etta and the chickens.  Just for her.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-5678649720877452294?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/5678649720877452294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2011/03/huh-august-09.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/5678649720877452294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/5678649720877452294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2011/03/huh-august-09.html' title='Huh.  August 09?'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x-2sKWknRd4/TYpArUvLxNI/AAAAAAAAACs/DLj0Yn0XwS8/s72-c/veratile-blogger.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-824190780353011558</id><published>2009-08-12T11:04:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T11:28:14.624-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>I Need a Moment</title><content type='html'>We are in a busy season in Hicksville.  As well as at work.  The garden is producing produce at a manic pace, and I'm trying to keep up with the canning.   The one blessing from having been hailed out twice this spring?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The green beans didn't start really producing until this week - when the cucumbers are (hopefully) starting to die back.  I cannot imagine trying to can pickles and green beans and blackeyed peas all at the same time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking next year I just might plant beans and peas late on purpose!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When not trying to keep up with the garden and the yard and around the house (and you'll note - I said "trying" - let's not kid anyone.  I haven't washed towels in 2 weeks and just used the last washcloth.  I'm at a critical laundry point and we simply won't discuss the state of the rest of the house), I'm working extra hours at work in a vain attempt to keep up since we're down a person.  Our new graduate students started trickling in last week, and I fully expect a deluge of 'em on Friday.  It's also the end of our fiscal year soon, so I'm trying to make sure that funds are spent, and spent properly, and that everything is balancing correctly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like some days I'm in a whirlwind of activity - of paperwork and pickles, students and laundry and practices and weeding and accounts and phones and memos and beans and chickens and more and more I just want to stand still for a moment and yell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STOP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop  - and let me watch as my eldest progresses on his walk to manhood.  As he takes the  next steps toward being an adult - driving, SATs, college planning, girlfriends, and of course, football.  Let me have time to soak in his handsome face - the same one that once upon a time chewed on his tiny fist while scowling at me because he didn't understand why bottles in the hospital were so easy to drink, and nursing was hard.  The same face that would light up a room when he saw me - his mom - come in to pick him up at the end of the day.  The one that now will casually toss off a "later, crazy lady" and I quietly say to his back - "I love you too, E."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop  - and let me have a moment to see my youngest take those first few steps of his walk to manhood.  As he gets ready from his transition from his last year of junior high to high school next year.  Let me soak it all in as he begins to shed childhood - and Yu Gi Oh cards and The Suite Life - in favor Hannah Montana and his iPod.  Let me remember his sweet little face as he laughed uproariously whenever he was amused.  And let me slowly adjust to his deeper voice, his hairier legs and the new more grownup face he sports these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me time.  It's going by so FAST.  I only have a few years left with my boys and I need a moment.  A moment as I figure out how to let them go when I so desperately want to just keep them little. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some time to just....let mom adjust.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-824190780353011558?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/824190780353011558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-need-moment.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/824190780353011558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/824190780353011558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-need-moment.html' title='I Need a Moment'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-5417776799023693548</id><published>2009-08-06T09:28:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T09:59:47.191-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cassidy'/><title type='text'>The Cassidy Trifecta</title><content type='html'>As a child, like so many in the US, I thought the two Davids were just &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;DREAMY&lt;/span&gt;.  You know which Davids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;David Cassidy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Snrsi1rEHSI/AAAAAAAAACE/bXRVOye6-XM/s1600-h/feathered_cassidy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Snrsi1rEHSI/AAAAAAAAACE/bXRVOye6-XM/s320/feathered_cassidy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366861989232778530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/SnrsA5ZzQVI/AAAAAAAAAB8/92c0-ZiFTZI/s1600-h/davy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 219px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/SnrsA5ZzQVI/AAAAAAAAAB8/92c0-ZiFTZI/s320/davy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366861406118560082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and Davy Jones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;As I grew older, another Cassidy caught my eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Snrs8CZponI/AAAAAAAAACM/lalEY4TLjLM/s1600-h/shaun155.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 232px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Snrs8CZponI/AAAAAAAAACM/lalEY4TLjLM/s320/shaun155.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366862422146130546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would be the sublime Shaun Cassidy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;(oh shut up.  I'm telling ya - back when I was 12 - 14, Shaun Cassidy was HAWT.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Alas, as I grew older, my love for Shaun faded as I met boys my own age that lived in the same town and were all "Dude - why do you have that dork on your walls anyway?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pfft.  Philistines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why all this nostalgia?  Because last night I discovered quite by accident that Shaun was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not &lt;/span&gt;the hottest Cassidy brother after all.  No - that title goes to one of his little brothers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/SnruwgBMLgI/AAAAAAAAACU/ozAkOwNAZV4/s1600-h/headshot2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/SnruwgBMLgI/AAAAAAAAACU/ozAkOwNAZV4/s320/headshot2008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366864422961425922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;That's Patrick.  Take a little David, a little Shaun, toss in a lot of Jack (that would their dad) and dayum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a whole lotta hot for one family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-5417776799023693548?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/5417776799023693548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2009/08/cassidy-trifecta.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/5417776799023693548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/5417776799023693548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2009/08/cassidy-trifecta.html' title='The Cassidy Trifecta'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Snrsi1rEHSI/AAAAAAAAACE/bXRVOye6-XM/s72-c/feathered_cassidy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-5355940979817481008</id><published>2009-08-03T09:27:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T10:16:01.914-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><title type='text'>The Little Garden that Could</title><content type='html'>So - you remember back in June when our garden was decimated by the evil hail?  And that was just the first hailstorm.  Two days later - after we re-planted everything - it hailed again.  And it was even more devastating that the first hailstorm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we Digby's are gluttons for gardening I guess.  We just said to ourselves "Selves - time for another trip to the nursery."  Then re-planted again.  More corn.  More beans.  More cantaloupe, watermelon, squash, cucumbers, tomatoes and peppers.  And you know what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The garden grew.  And grew and grew and holy moly do you know how much yellow squash you get out of 5 well watered bushes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than there are unlocked cars in the church parking lot.  That I can assure you.  (We checked.  People in Hicksville are *way* more savvy about squash season than they were in Mid-Size City.  Hmph.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we have gone from this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Snb3tLROjlI/AAAAAAAAABU/HBxyhW0Lb30/s1600-h/DSCI0063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Snb3tLROjlI/AAAAAAAAABU/HBxyhW0Lb30/s320/DSCI0063.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365748361549745746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Please ignore the empty Sonic bags and other crap on my kitchen table)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Snb3jSkNvHI/AAAAAAAAABM/6-xyNnLSenI/s1600-h/DSCI0064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Snb3jSkNvHI/AAAAAAAAABM/6-xyNnLSenI/s320/DSCI0064.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365748191709740146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Canning season has commenced.  As you can see, it made me a little blurry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides cucumbers, we've also harvested our first cabbage and it was quite tasty.  I think cabbage will be a new addition on our garden plans from now on.  Remember that poor sad asparagus bed?  We're *still* getting new asparagus from that patch.  We had some last night with supper.  I think we only lost one plant in the whole bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love living in the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Snb4nJeZyCI/AAAAAAAAABc/_duMS6CEa4Y/s1600-h/DSCI0067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Snb4nJeZyCI/AAAAAAAAABc/_duMS6CEa4Y/s320/DSCI0067.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365749357500549154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That's from our back porch the other morning.  Just behind our new pecan tree is our garden, and beyond that is our property to the telephone poles, then someone else's field, then Hicksville.  And no - I didn't enhance the colors with Photoshop.  That's just how it looked Saturday morning.  Pretty, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We still don't have any tomatoes in the garden.  Well - we had 4 on one of the plants, but Mr. Rabbit decided to nibble on them yesterday and he's just damn lucky I didn't catch his furry hide.  Hmph.  Not sure what the deal is.  No one around here is having much luck with maters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E started two-a-days this morning.  Right now he's resting somewhere before the next practice session.  He's hoping for varsity this year, but he's just a sophomore.  He may have to wait another year.  He was ready to play ball this morning though.  Tomorrow J starts marching band (and tomorrow night they'll BOTH be at practice - woohoo! Nekkid supper at our house!), and we start winding down the summer.  This weekend we are thinking about taking another trip to the lake.  We didn't make it during my vacation this year since the hub's truck was in the shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mom-in-law may be coming down to see us around Labor Day.  She's is doing very well, and continues to be in complete remission.  Such a complete answered prayer there, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My folks will be here the 3rd week of September to hang with the kiddos while the hubs and I strike out for Nebraska to see one of my oldest and dearest friends.  I met Gina in 9th grade, and somehow, we have managed to keep in touch - off and on - all of these years.  Her beautiful daughter is getting married this fall, and we are using that as an excuse to go see Gina and her husband.  It's been 26 years since we've seen each other in person - to say that I am psyched doesn't even begin to cover it!  And we will ignore the fact that she is currently skinnier than I am.  With any luck, and Weight Watchers, I'll be a bit *less* by the time we get there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I'm up there, I'll also get to see one of my oldest and dearest 'net friends.  Jen was one of the first persons I met online - it's been close to 13 years now.  We've never met in person - so I'm really looking forward to that as well.  I've met so few of my "net" friends over the years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work continues to be crazy, but somewhat better.  I had hopes for a smooth Fall transition this year - until last Monday when my receptionist turned in her notice.  *sigh*  Something about getting paid $900 more a month.  Sheesh - some people are just so &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;*material*&lt;/span&gt;.  So - once again - I'm on a the hunt for a new girl.  Wish me luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would probably be horribly stressed if I didn't have this to come home to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Snb-JW7OqKI/AAAAAAAAABs/xfcKFduJpG0/s1600-h/DSCI0066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Snb-JW7OqKI/AAAAAAAAABs/xfcKFduJpG0/s320/DSCI0066.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365755442784807074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Makes it all easier somehow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-5355940979817481008?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/5355940979817481008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2009/08/little-garden-that-could.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/5355940979817481008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/5355940979817481008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2009/08/little-garden-that-could.html' title='The Little Garden that Could'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Snb3tLROjlI/AAAAAAAAABU/HBxyhW0Lb30/s72-c/DSCI0063.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-6411662488767971989</id><published>2009-06-22T09:58:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T12:48:56.897-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Memories of Water</title><content type='html'>We spent the weekend at the lake.  It's odd how someone who spent most of her life in a semi-arid region of the nation has so many lakes in my memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my first memories is of the 4th of July was seeing the fireworks show at Buffalo Springs Lake as a little girl.  I remember spending the day there, in the heat, and sand, with my family and my grandparents.  We had a picnic lunch of some kind and after a day of swimming and eating and playing, there was the cool that only comes after the sun goes down around here.  I remember how the breeze felt soft as silk on my skin - and the huge beautiful fireworks overhead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later we often went down to Lake Brownwood in the summers.  My grandparents on my mom's side would go down there to go fishing, and we would go down and camp for a few days.  Unlike Buffalo Springs Lake, Lake Brownwood had the muggy heat that I tend to normally associate with lakes.  Surrounded by live oak and mesquite, I remember walking along the beach, finding "sea shells" that were really the shells of lake mussels in all sizes.  Teeny tiny ones that were smaller than even the end of my little girl fingers, and the big thrill was finding one bigger than my entire hand.  Riding on the boat, fishing with Granma and Granpa, and Mr. Pibb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because back then, you could only find Mr. Pibb in South Texas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between my 7th &amp;amp; 8th grade years, we went on the road with my dad.  He was working on a power plant near St. Johns, AZ and the first couple months of summer, we camped out at Lake Lymon State Park.  We swam everyday, climbed to the top of the little mesa near the swimming hole and looked at petroglyphs, and at 3 pm everyday, headed to the tent, because that's when it rained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following summer took us to Washington State.  We lived in a little place called Smokey Point, and we were a short walk from Twin Lakes.  Again - days were spent swimming and sunning.  And although western Washington is known for it's nearly constant rain, I don't recall alot of rain in the summers.  Instead I remember walking the bike trail to Twin Lakes, helping ourselves to wild blackberries along the way, and hot muggy days in the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of years later brought us back to Texas - and Buffalo Springs Lake.  It's only a few miles outside of Lubbock, and my high school summers found us out there as often as it did at a city pool or cruisin' around Maxey Park.  Still hot, still sandy, my high summer memories of Buffalo tend to revolve around beer, looking good in my bikini and watching shirtless guys playing volleyball or tossin a football (and other activities that would be hidden quickly if any law enforcement drove by).  I lost my favorite pair of sneakers one summer out there - when I had a couple too many brewski's and forgot to grab them when I went riding around with a cute boy.  Never did find a pair of sneaks to equal those white Nikes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Pronounced Ni - KEEs by the way.  I never heard anyone in Texas pronounce it any other way.  Which it why it irritated the tar outta me when I saw Friday Night Lights and that kid kept referring to them as NIKES.  Puh-leez.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After high school, we branched out to White River Lake - again - hot, sandy, but you could put a boat on it.  I think that's all that mattered to us - could you swim?  Could you put a boat on it?  We didn't go out there as much as we did to Buffalo, but we did make visits.  Not long after I married MDH, we went fishing at White River, and one night at the crappie house (that's prounounced "croppie" even those it's spelt crappy.  Don't ask me why - it doesn't make sense to me either), during a thunderstorm, I think we encountered a little twister.   I can't think of anything else that would have snapped the inch thick bolt that was linking the crappie house to the shore.  Nothing like looking out the door of the crappie house, which is supposed to be fixed into position, and seeing the shore swing away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I don't go anywhere near a lake when there's a storm on the way anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I had E, some friends of ours bought a place at Lake Stamford.  It's about 3 hours away, and is like the lakes I remember most fondly - surrounded by mesquite, hot, muggy, and peaceful.  It's mainly a fishing lake - that's why our friends started going, and that's why we ended up buying a place there.  For some reason, when we get there - usually at night - I step into the steamy darkness, and feel at home.  I'm not sure I'd want to live at the lake - but I do enjoy visiting.  Our place is surrounded by huge mesquite trees and buffalo grass, with the occasional mulberry tree.   It's a little place - just a two bedroom trailer house.  But it's perfect for my little family.  We have a place to keep our boat, and we spent alot of weekends down there fishing and relaxing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to hate going down there.  When the boys were little, MDH would go out fishing most of the day, and I'd be stuck in the house with two rambunctious little boys.  You could only take them swimming for so long each day.  But now they're older, and we all spend our days out fishing, with breaks for swimming, so I don't mind so much.  In fact - we're going to be spending our vacation down there this year - so that my boys will have the kind of summer memories I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swimming.  Fishing.  Sunning.  Finding teeny weeny shells on the beach.  Just being.  Because isn't that what a vacation *should* be?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-6411662488767971989?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/6411662488767971989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2009/06/memories-of-water.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/6411662488767971989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/6411662488767971989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2009/06/memories-of-water.html' title='Memories of Water'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-4659516072312759446</id><published>2009-06-04T08:57:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T09:30:59.257-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chickens'/><title type='text'>Hail Sucketh.  Much.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/SifTzcOUokI/AAAAAAAAAAk/FSu7CEVBSVk/s1600-h/DSCI0017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/SifTzcOUokI/AAAAAAAAAAk/FSu7CEVBSVk/s320/DSCI0017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343472363601437250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few short weeks ago, I uploaded pictures of my cool weather garden to my Facebook.  My cabbage, brusell sprouts and cauliflower (shut up - I *like* veggies!) were so pretty.  And since then they have been growing like crazy.  I had even begun to find tiny heads of cauliflower here and there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday evening, as I was walking out of my office, my cell phone rang.  It was J, who had been at home all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;J:  Wow mom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  What son?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J:  It looks like it SNOWED!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Uh oh.  It's June.  It does not snow in June in West Texas.  It does, however, storm.  And it had indeed been storming Tuesday afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I found after driving home in the pouring rain:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/SifUjQUsEiI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aiDZbu6-niY/s1600-h/DSCI0052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/SifUjQUsEiI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aiDZbu6-niY/s320/DSCI0052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343473185040634402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life of a "farmer," eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't even tell you what it did to our garden.  It's too depressing.  And although I love shredded cabbage, this was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not &lt;/span&gt;what I had in mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, MDH, the boys and I got out there and re-planted tomatos, peppers, cucumbers and squash seedlings.  This morning, MDH will be re-planting green beans, corn and canteloupe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because we are nothing if not gluttons for punishment.  As for my cool weather plants, I think we'll just see if they recover.  It's fairly early in their development - who knows - maybe by fall we'll actually have some cabbage and a cauliflower or two.  And since the brusell sprouts hadn't started with the sprouts, maybe they'll be ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A girl can dream, can't she?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest - we certainly needed the rain.  And we got plenty of that.  But man - I sure hated seeing my plants and trees so beat up.  One of my daylilies was a week from blooming - all but one bud was beaten off the plant.  And my asparagus?  Oy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/SifWKgN0KpI/AAAAAAAAAA0/fQ_rn-Md4Ng/s1600-h/DSCI0053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/SifWKgN0KpI/AAAAAAAAAA0/fQ_rn-Md4Ng/s320/DSCI0053.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343474958833298066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Stalks.  No ferns.  I certainly hope it grows back some ferns.  Otherwise I guess I'll be re-planting *that* next spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our one and only chick is eatin', poopin' and growing.  It is very very cute.  It started growing tailfeathers the other day.  I'm hoping it's a hen, because I'm afraid I'm already too attached to the bugger to be eating him/her someday.  If it's a hen, then at least we might get eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know - if we get her some friends and a rooster and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's my life lately - work, a lot of gardening and talking to Chickie.    Our only other excitement was going to Sonic last night for our free rootbeer float.  I'm still convinced that my eldest is meant to be a lawyer - because that kid will argue about *anything* and hates to be wrong.  No idea where he got *that* from....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'd rather have free floats for excitement than this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/SifYn10EwkI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Q74KtTJby_g/s1600-h/DSCI0054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/SifYn10EwkI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Q74KtTJby_g/s320/DSCI0054.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343477661870375490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.  Hail sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-4659516072312759446?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/4659516072312759446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2009/06/hail-sucketh-much.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/4659516072312759446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/4659516072312759446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2009/06/hail-sucketh-much.html' title='Hail Sucketh.  Much.'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/SifTzcOUokI/AAAAAAAAAAk/FSu7CEVBSVk/s72-c/DSCI0017.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-1884074010040020375</id><published>2009-06-01T11:24:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T11:42:25.960-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chickens'/><title type='text'>Living the Hicksville Life</title><content type='html'>Life in Hicksville has been hectic lately.  What with all the planting, weed pulling, watering and glaring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glaring?  Yes - we have been glaring.  For the last two years, since we moved to the boonies, we have enjoyed the distance between us and our nearest neighbors who were a good 15 acres away from us.  At least until someone purchased the property between us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then, our new neighbors ( let's call them Jethro and Ellie Mae, shall we?) have&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a) let their 3 big dogs roam free - free to dig up and destroy my compost heap.  Our sand heap.  Our gutter that we hadn't put up yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;b) when informed that the folks to the north of them free range their chickens, and letting their dog roam wild might not be appreciated, Jethro replied "Heh huh - guess they won't be free range for long!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;c) put up a pole light 200 feet from my front porch.  Directly across from my bedroom window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;d) are now building one of those cheaply built homes about 6 feet off the property line - directly across from my front porch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know - I'm being petty.  But for pete's sake.  Control your dogs.  And don't be a tool if you're *not* going to control them.  I'm just waiting for someone to take a shot at those dogs because they were going after someone chickens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of chickens, we borrowed an incubator and put in 24 eggs and have one cute little baby chick to show for it.  We are such amateurs.  We actually had two hatch, but the hubby forgot to read all of the incubator directions and took one out of the incubator too soon - and died.  Our little chickie is very cute, and is pecking and cheeping very well.  I went to look online to see if we could get some buddies shipped in for him (since we apparently suck at this incubatin thing) and found this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mcmurrayhatchery.com/product/barbecue_special.html"&gt;Barbecue Special&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's so wrong.  FUNNY - but wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E made it through his first year of high school, and survived.  Now both boys are out of school and looking forward to sleeping late and surfing the internet and watching TV all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha. Like that's gonna happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hubs and I have already started our summer to-do list.  Starting with "Build a Chicken Coop for Chickie."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-1884074010040020375?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/1884074010040020375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2009/06/living-hicksville-life.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/1884074010040020375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/1884074010040020375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2009/06/living-hicksville-life.html' title='Living the Hicksville Life'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-5511684302682830278</id><published>2008-06-26T08:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T08:59:05.980-05:00</updated><title type='text'>She Lives!  And A Summer Yummy</title><content type='html'>Good heavens, has it really been since before *Christmas*?  Sorry folks.  I have been saving all my pithy ramblings for the &lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&amp;amp;friendID=70669575&amp;amp;blogID=408743137"&gt;evil MySpace blog&lt;/a&gt;, and lately - that addictive &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/Mysit"&gt;Twitter&lt;/a&gt;.  Life in the Hicksville is hot, windy, and oh so blissful.  But that's not what got me to finally put a blog up.  &lt;a href="http://thebigmamablog.com/"&gt;BigMama&lt;/a&gt; is looking for easy peasy summer recipes for supper, and since she put up a Mr. Linky rather than letting us just post comments, I thought I'd contribute the easiest, coolest summer recipe I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chef Salad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buy a bag of salad. Any version will do.  Dump into a big pretty bowl.&lt;br /&gt;Add whatever other veggies you might have in the fridge.  Cut up broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, cucumbers, tomatos, bell peppers - whatever floats your boat.  And was preferably in the fridge all day. &lt;br /&gt;Take deli ham and turkey, slice into quick strips, and dump on top.&lt;br /&gt;Sprinkle with cheese from your handy dandy bag o shredded cheese.&lt;br /&gt;Add slices of hard boiled eggs if you must.  I don't care for them, but the hubby sometimes likes to add some to his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most importantly - serve with sides of fruit - whatever fruit your kids like.  I've found that cantaloupe seems to go over pretty well.  And let 'em pick out what they like from their serving of salad - what they don't eat, you can - and it won't even have a ton of calories either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Top with your favorite dressing and voila.  Cool, easy, tasty.  Perfect for after a day broiling in the pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or so I've heard.  We don't have a pool.  And there are no community pools out in the boonies.  For me, it's perfect after spending hours baking while pulling weeds from the garden.  As a matter of fact, I just may make this tonight.  (No - I didn't do a menu plan this week. I'm a slacker.  I blame the hubby - he's the one who dragged us all out to the lake last weekend to go fishing.  Then I out-fished  him.  Heh.  That'll teach 'im.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow - that was much easier than I expected.  Maybe if I get a comment or two, I might try it again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-5511684302682830278?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/5511684302682830278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2008/06/she-lives-and-summer-yummy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/5511684302682830278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/5511684302682830278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2008/06/she-lives-and-summer-yummy.html' title='She Lives!  And A Summer Yummy'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-7629946658209608176</id><published>2007-11-30T10:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T10:17:06.487-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><title type='text'>When Contacts Attack</title><content type='html'>One of the unexpected benefits of living out in the boonies is the drive home after work.  Not only does it give me 30 minutes a day - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;by myself no less&lt;/span&gt; - to listen to the Backstreet Boys to my heart's content, but I also get to watch the sun set every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had forgotten how stunning a West Texas sunset can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the last month, I have had my breath taken away so many times as the sky glowed with all the muted colors you could imagine.  It has become a highlight of my day.  Yesterday I had to stop at the store and pick up milk on the way home, and missed the sunset.  I could not believe how disappointed I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time the kids can just wait another day for milk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday morning while putting my contacts in, I discovered that at some point I had somehow switched the caps on my lens case.  So for who knows how long I've been seeing out of the wrong eyes.  I wear gas permeable lenses (as I am as blind as Mr. Magoo and soft contacts simply do not correct my vision enough for me to see clearly.  And not seeing clearly would interfere with all kinds of things.  Like seeing sunsets.  And you know - driving.) so you think I would have noticed sooner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least now I know why I've looked like an extra from 28 Weeks Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas - I have nothing else interesting to post.  Other than I have no idea what to get my husband for Christmas. Every time he wants something, he just buys it.  (After comparing prices from a gazillion places and then buying it used somewhere.  Ah - the life of a wife of the thrifty man)  So I'm stumped.  If anyone knows of a good gift for a man who loves hunting, fishing, and giving me a hard time, for heaven's sake - leave a comment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(And if you have any idea where I might find a Wii console without paying eleventy billion dollars on ebay - drop me a line.  Because we didn't come up with the brilliant idea to buy one until THANKSGIVING and as you all know - the US is sold out.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-7629946658209608176?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/7629946658209608176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/11/when-contacts-attack.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/7629946658209608176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/7629946658209608176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/11/when-contacts-attack.html' title='When Contacts Attack'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-8520402552457085527</id><published>2007-11-27T09:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T09:45:42.161-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>Sports, Band and Trees - Oh My</title><content type='html'>Let me begin by just stating - I am a sports fan.  Even more - I am a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hockey&lt;/span&gt; fan.  I completely understand how a person can get caught up in a game and lose perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you would think parents would be able to behave better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, E had his 2nd basketball game.  We played at home.  We played a team from a prep school nearby, and we were obviously playing their A team.  E, since he did not play last year, is on the B team for Hicksville Middle School.  The team they were playing was very good.  They came out to rousing start and quickly managed to lead by over 20 points.  Their kids made fancy jump shots from all over.  They had fancy passing patterns and executed them flawlessly. And the parents were very enthusiastic in their support of their kids.  I have no objections to that.  Truly I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have objections to those parents taking up the home section of the stands.  We have a very nice visitor's section.  I fail to see why the parents couldn't do all their whoopin' and hollerin' from that section, instead of insisting upon sitting in our section and being obnoxious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only that, but if you're going to sit in the home team's section of the stands, and make a spectacle of yourselves when your team is winning, do not get annoyed when our little ole B team manages to come back in the 4th and WIN the game, ok?  I mean really - if you can whoop and holler, so can we.  And we're hicks - so we're *expected* to act that way.  You people are the ones who send your hot shot kids to a fancy prep school - show some class already! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This concludes my fan rant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, the mom-in-law is doing great.  She is scheduled to have a PET scan, and we are cautiously optimistic that the scan will come back clear.  For the one or two folks that read my silly ole blog, please continue to keep her in your prayers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E's football season ended with him scoring a few extra points, and the team winning district overall.  The high school team made the playoffs, and won the Bi-District title, but then lost last week.  It was still an awesome year for them.  The band qualified for the area competition, but failed to make the state competition.  We are still very proud of how well they did this year as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J is having a rougher year as a middle schooler.  He just doesn't see the point of not only doing his homework, but turning it in.  Consequently, he has been grounded until those grades come up.  *sigh*  It would be one thing if he just didn't get the material - but he aces his tests.  He just doesn't like homework.  He's also been branded "weird" by the oh-so-knowledgeable 6th grade girl club.  J has always been an individual, with a highly active imagination.  Apparently that's not appreciated by middle schoolers out here.  If anyone has any advice on how to comfort a sensitive, kind 12 yr old boy who thinks "any girl would be crazy to like me," I'd sure appreciate it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The days are getting cooler out in the boonies, and the nights even colder.  My beautiful ceramic tile in the kitchen is pretty darn cold in the mornings, so I picked up some slippers at Target during the big ole Black Friday sale.  My boys (all 3 of them) are pretty amused to see me  padding around the house rockin my new cheetah print slippers and red fleece with snowmen robe.  Pfft.  *I* like 'em.  And they're warm.  So there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tree is up, although I forgot to put the garland on before I put all the ornaments on.  It's still pretty.  I've been hanging fake pine garlands all over the place where I can - oddly enough, lengths that were perfect for my old house seem kinda short in this one.  I'm making do.  I may give in and buy a couple of new ones.  But until then, I'm just having fun finding new places for all my Christmas stuff.  I've started my Christmas shopping, and I'm *hoping* that I'll be done before the middle of December.  Yeah - I know, but we all gotta have dreams, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have planted more trees on our land, and just ordered a ton more from the Soil &amp;amp; Water conservation people.  Someday we'll have a windbreak.  Until then, the porch will be deserted until spring arrives.  I'll miss watching the sunsets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's hoping everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-8520402552457085527?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/8520402552457085527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/11/sports-band-and-trees-oh-my.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/8520402552457085527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/8520402552457085527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/11/sports-band-and-trees-oh-my.html' title='Sports, Band and Trees - Oh My'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-6959384292423703789</id><published>2007-09-27T09:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T14:36:13.197-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Family'/><title type='text'>Hate. Fear. Strength. Faith.</title><content type='html'>I hate Cancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate that the treatment for it is almost as bad as the disease.  I hate that my sweet little mom-in-law has to spend weeks in the hospital with sores in her mouth and throat while waiting for her stem cells to graft and start producing nice little white cells so she won't be in so much pain.  I hate that my husband has to sit in a hospital room for hours on end, seeing his mother in pain and feeling helpless to help her.  I hate that he has to worry when after 10 days she still hasn't started producing white cells - and that this latest course of treatment might not work.  I hate that after losing his favorite uncle, he now has to worry about losing her.  I hate that my kids have to be without their dad most of each week because he needs to be with his mama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But most of all, I hate the fear that creeps over me every time I even think of the possibility of losing the mom-in-law.  Not necessarily how the loss will affect me directly.  I do love her, and I would miss her terribly.  But I am terrified what it will do to M.  He tries to be so strong, but a man can only take so much. And he is on the very end of his rope lately.  I'm afraid what will happen if he happens to slip off.  And I hate being afraid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see - I'm the tough one.  The one who can handle anything.  Really - ask my friends.  I'm the "normal" person in the group - the one with the great marriage, the so-called normal kids, the job she enjoys - the one who never has a crisis.  When my grandparents died within 45 days of each other, I  handled it.  When my youngest broke his arm and had to have surgery, I handled it.  When he had meningitis, I handled it.  I'm a strong person, and I handle things.  It's what I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I start fearing things, it pisses me off.  *I* don't get scared!  But I am.  I worry that my strength isn't enough to hold my husband together if the worst happens.  I've seen him fall apart before.  I'm afraid he might again.  I wonder if I'm still strong enough to handle it this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I don't have to handle it by myself.  I know that.  I know I should let go, and Let God.  Sometimes that's easier said than done.  It was easy to do when it had to do with our mongo house project.  It was easy to do when I sent my kids off to school.  For some reason, when it comes to my husband's sanity and peace of mind, it's much harder to do.  I'm not sure why.  I consider myself a woman of faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately though, I feel more like a woman of fear.  And I HATE that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-6959384292423703789?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/6959384292423703789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/09/hate-fear-strength-faith.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/6959384292423703789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/6959384292423703789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/09/hate-fear-strength-faith.html' title='Hate. Fear. Strength. Faith.'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-4900628265359337546</id><published>2007-09-12T08:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T09:01:14.661-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Never Forget</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Originally posted on September 9, 2006.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's weird what you remember about events. I remember most clearly what I was wearing. It was my favorite pantsuit - when I put it on that morning, I remember admiring how well it fit me, and how it managed to make me look slimmer than I was. It was black, with coral trim on the lapels and coral buttons down the front. And I wore my black boots, the ones with the super high heels, because the pants were a little long for my little 5'3" legs, and the boots made the whole outfit perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How oddly appropriate that I wore black that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sitting in my office - on my computer, checking my message board and planning my day. One of my students came into my office and began the shattering of what I thought I knew about the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mysti - do we still have that TV?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure - it's in the file room - why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A plane just flew into the World Trade Center"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No s***?  How'd they not see that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that time - when he said plane - I thought a little prop plane. Because surely it was some inexperienced pilot that ran into the World Trade Center. And I had no idea what the day would bring - what kind of horror would be visited upon us as a nation that day. It was just a little ole plane, right? I figured maybe a few offices worth of damage. Tragic to be sure, but there was no way I could know what was coming. It was probably just a little prop plane. I mean hell - it never ever occurred to me that it could have been an &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;airliner.&lt;/span&gt;  Those pilots know what they're doing, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did they ever. &gt;:&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we went to the back, turned on the TV and saw the billowing smoke. We marveled over how someone could have missed seeing the building, then I went back to my desk and send an ICQ message to someone - Rog, Jen, I don't know. Someone. About the plane. Then I went back to check on the news coverage. And found Todd standing there staring at the TV in shock. Because another plane had hit the other tower. And as we stared at each other in dismay, we realized that maybe the first plane wasn't an accident. And maybe it wasn't a prop plane either. About that time, I pulled the TV out into the main office area. By now everyone knew what was going on. And we watched in horror at the billowing smoke, and heard Matt Lauer talk about people jumping, and the flames, and how the fire department was responding. Never &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dreaming &lt;/span&gt;what was coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the tower fell. And we watched in horror. Not knowing how many people were still inside the buildings. Amazed at how the tower fell straight down. Exclaiming to each other "Oh my God...oh my God." Then it hit me. Not only all the people in the buildings. But the paramedics. The firefighters. The policemen. And I bent over - in anguish, nauseated, physically nauseated at the loss of life, trying to control my tears, pacing back and forth between my office and the TV - unable to tear myself away, but hardly bearing to watch. Other faculty and students came out of their offices - as we watched replay after replay of thousands of people dying. Unable to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not &lt;/span&gt;watch.   And as we were watching another replay, Gopal (one of our professors) said something that made my heart stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is that the first tower?  Are you sure?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's the replay - they keep showing it over and over and...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No - look - there's not another tower there - the second tower just fell!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh God.  Not that one too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. That one too. And the horror ...well it refreshed itself. Seeing one tower full of people fall was bad enough - but BOTH of them? It was almost too much to bear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And through all of that - we never thought it was anything more than a couple of crazies. We knew it was on purpose - all you had to do was see the footage of the second plane flying into it's tower and there was no doubt it wasn't an accident. But a well coordinated attack on our country? Like the rest - it just never occurred to me. That day was full of assumptions I made based on the world I thought I knew. Not that I hadn't heard of Bin Laden. I actually had. A couple of years before I read a Reader's Digest article that was an interview with former president Clinton. Someone asked him what was the biggest threat to the US, and he replied "Osama Bin Laden." And elaborated. So I had heard of him. I had read about him. I knew he was a fanatic. But it just never occurred to me that he'd plan THIS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then someone on the news said that a plane had flown into the Pentagon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I said out loud, "That's it.  Oh my God, we're at war."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we were. And I finally learned what the phrase "and her blood chilled" felt like. It wasn't a fun feeling. I thought of my husband, my kids...where they were, what they were doing, were they safe? Would they stay safe? Were planes about to come raining down all over the country? I know I'm in Podunk, TX, but Pantex is just a couple of hours up the interstate....all these thoughts raced through my head, as I watched everyone run, listened to the folks on TV say what all of us were thinking, saw the people with the gray faces, shocked and unbelieving... and I continued to pace. I could hardly sit down. I'd sit at my computer, post another message on my hockey board, then it was back to the TV. I'd try to work, but I couldn't. How could I concentrate on accounts when the world was falling apart around me? When we were &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;under attack!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the TV saying that all planes had been grounded. I remember hearing about the flight that went down in Pennsylvania. And I watched TV. And paced - in my high heeled boots. In my favorite black pantsuit. All I wanted to do was go pick up my children and hug them and take them home. Where they'd be with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;me &lt;/span&gt;and safe. And when 5 o'clock finally got here, I left work - and went to pick up my children. And nearly ran into the after-school program and hugged them. I realized that while they knew something had happened today, they didn't seem to realize just how drastically our world had changed. When we got home, we sent them off to watch movies in another room, and Monty and I watched TV some more. Heard the story of someone who had ridden the debris down and survived - then the retraction when it was proven wrong. Hoped they'd find survivors - and felt the overwhelming sorrow when everyone started to realize that there just weren't many. Watched them try to dig through the debris to find survivors - and watched them run when someone thought there might be a shift of the wreckage - or another building came down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And listened. You could still hear them. It's a sound that I'd never heard before 9/11. And when I hear it now, it still sends chills down my spine. Granted, I only hear it when watching &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Rescue Me&lt;/span&gt;, but the sound of the alarms - the ones that the firefighters wear that only go off when they're motionless......hundreds of them.....once I knew what they were, what the sound was, and why they were blaring....how much Lord? How much can we all bear? Those were the thoughts in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stayed up too late watching the cable news channels. Trying to accept? adjust? to what I was seeing. And got up the next morning, and turned the TV back on. Went to work, and had the TV on...hoping that they'd find more survivors. And in the background....my ears adjusted to the fact that there were no more planes in the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several days later, I sat in my office and heard fighter jets go over our campus. (We had an Air Force base just outside of town most of my life - Reese is closed as a military base now, but I know the sound of a fighter when I hear one) Never before had that sound scared me. It did that day. And to this day - when hear a low flying jet, I tense up. I've flown once since that day. I didn't like it much. But I did it. Because no stinkin terrorists were going to stop me from living my life as I see fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I don't wear that pantsuit very often. I still have it. But every time I put it on, it doesn't seem to fit anymore. And not just because I've gained a few pounds in the last 5 years. Rather - the person that wore that pantsuit on the morning of 9/11/01 isn't the same one that tries it on now. But I still have it. And the boots. And every time I look at them, I remember. Because this Redneck Texan will &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;never &lt;/span&gt;forget that day.  And how it changed everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rocks In My Dryer&lt;/a&gt; hosted an I Remember 9/11 day at her site last year. I'm not sure if you can find the link, I haven't checked. But just in case, drop by.  So no one forgets those who died that day. Just for going into the office, or getting on a plane.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-4900628265359337546?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/4900628265359337546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/09/never-forget.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/4900628265359337546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/4900628265359337546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/09/never-forget.html' title='Never Forget'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-148339645393482627</id><published>2007-08-27T09:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T09:52:37.089-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><title type='text'>The End of Summer</title><content type='html'>Today is the first day of school in Texas, and that includes Hicksville.  I made a point of getting up a full TWENTY minutes earlier than usual to make sure the boys were up and ready in time to get to school before the bell rang, and still managed to be 25 minutes late to work.   Of course, that was thanks to the lovely road construction around Big University where I work.  I do wish they would tell us ahead of time that they are taking out a *major* section of my normal route to work.  Sheesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be a nervous wreck this afternoon, as they are taking the bus home for the first time since the move, and I've totally convinced they will somehow get on the wrong bus and get left in the middle of nowhere and it'll take me days to track 'em down.  I hope E remembered to take his cell phone.  I know - it's silly.  I mean really, when I called to find out what bus they need to ride home, I was told it was bus 3.  THREE.  Even when I went to school in AlmostHicksville right outside of Big Town, the buses had more numbers in them!  So it's not like they have too much of a chance of getting lost in the multitudes.  But still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You just never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hope they are not traumatized by their lack of actual trapper keepers that they were to have today.  I sent them off at the WalMart to track one down, and last night discovered what they came back with was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not &lt;/span&gt;a trapper keeper, but rather some kind of expanding file folder thing that just will not do.  Unfortunately, before I could give them the lecture about sticking to what the school supply list says, we discovered I had purchased two each of several colors of the WRONG folders that were listed.  There goes *that* life lesson, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all the fun we had procuring school supplies, I decided that I had entirely too many ripe tomatoes and made a batch of hot sauce to can.  Once again, despite following my grandma's directions *exactly* - I ended up with 5 pints instead of 8.  I have no idea why, but it happens every time.  I also decided to put on the big girl panties and cut up my own jalepenos instead of making the hubby do it, then spent the rest of the evening trying to stop the burning fires of hell that was underneath my finger nails, and not rub my eyes at any time.  This even after coating my hands in olive oil before starting to cut them up.  Hmph.  Next time M can do that.  Because that was not fun.  At all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend I attempted making dill pickles.  They certainly *look* like they'll taste yummy, but I'm too chicken to open them up and taste them.  I think I'll wait until our friends come out and get one of them to taste test them for me.  Preferably P.  As a former hockey player, I'm pretty sure he'll pretty much eat anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cantaloupe finally ripened and we've been enjoying those for the last couple of weeks.  Sadly, one of our vines just &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;died &lt;/span&gt;and we don't know why, so I'm hoping the other two manage to stay alive until the fruits on their vines ripen up.  We also have about eleventy billion watermelons to eat now.  I'm thinking we'll be leaving some of those with the yellow squash in any unlocked cars we come across.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drat - we went to church in Hicksville yesterday, and I forget to check the cars.  No wonder I still have that squash!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did manage to write out a menu plan, but I forgot to look at it this morning before coming to work, so I'll post that tomorrow.  It's the first week of classes here at Big University as well, so I had better get some work done.  I'm thinking this grad students are getting a little cranky waiting for their fee waivers to show up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y'all have a great week!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-148339645393482627?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/148339645393482627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/08/today-is-first-day-of-school-in-texas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/148339645393482627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/148339645393482627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/08/today-is-first-day-of-school-in-texas.html' title='The End of Summer'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-4715633004250408889</id><published>2007-08-10T15:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T15:46:35.563-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><title type='text'>Hey!  Who turned off Spring?</title><content type='html'>After months of pleasant weather, it seems as though the dog days of summer have hit West Texas, and hit hard.  You would think after 30-something years of living out here, I would be used to the heat and it wouldn't bother me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You would think wrong indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I was enjoying being able to work out in the yard each evening after starting supper.  I enjoyed (oddly enough) cleaning my pool in the evening.  Listening to the birds.  Watching the bunnies frolic and eat my new expensive grass.  I enjoyed sitting on my ginormous porch and reading without worrying about heat stroke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pfft.  Those days are over for a while.  Holy cow.  I had forgotten how bloomin hot it gets in the summer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, my garden seems to like hot.  I have cantaloupes that have been almost ready to harvest for  a week now (and honestly, I think they are purposely finding some way to stay green  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;just to taunt me &lt;/span&gt;because I love me some cantaloupe).  I have watermelon that continue to grow and grow.  I have so many green tomatoes on the vine that I'm already mentally counting to see if I have enough pint canning jars for all the yummy hot sauce I will be making come September.  My &lt;s&gt;four acres &lt;/s&gt;  one row of pinto beans, on the other hand, only produced a measly 4 plants, but those plants put out alot of green pintos!  And like all West Texans, we are cruising parking lots in the evening, searching for unlocked cars to gift with yellow squash. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I can only eat fried yellow squash once a week.  And our 4 plants are putting out enough to feed Afghanistan.  And Ethiopia.  I think we could make a dent in Pakistan as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of all the flower seeds I planted, only the zinnias came up.  They are now blooming prettily along my porch, along with snapdragons and marigolds.  I lost one of my lavender bushes, and I think my spanish broom has bit the dust, but I finally found me an old fashioned purple Texas lilac bush that is adjusting well.  As well as honeysuckle, purple lantana, and a gorgeous red crepe myrtle that will look lovely against our buff colored brick.  One of these days, maybe if I can get M to mow the lawn this weekend, I'll take pictures and share.  But you'll have to promise to ignore the weeds around the edges of my landscaping, as they seem to love this hot hot weather as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention my ugly not-so-easy set up Intex pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys claim they aren't ready for school, but E has already started marching band practice in Hicksville, and seems to enjoy that.  I think they have really enjoyed their lazy summer.  I know they've enjoyed sleeping until 10 or 11 am.  I know *I* would enjoy that.  I've started waking them up around 9:30 am so they can start getting used to earlier bedtimes and earlier wake ups.  We won't discuss how that earned me the title of Evil Mom.  Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom-in-law begins her 2nd hard core round of chemo on Monday.  If you have time, please drop a prayer to the deity of your choice for her to respond well to the treatment with few side effects, and grace and wisdom for her doctors.  As well as patience for M &amp; I over the next few weeks.  We plan on taking off most of next week to go up to Amarillo to help out when we can, and also to take the boys on a little mini summer vacation.  They need to have that, since so far their only trip out of town was to San Angelo for a funeral.  I'd like them to have some happier summer trip memories if possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-4715633004250408889?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/4715633004250408889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/08/hey-who-turned-off-spring.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/4715633004250408889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/4715633004250408889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/08/hey-who-turned-off-spring.html' title='Hey!  Who turned off Spring?'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-8402032287957888111</id><published>2007-08-02T09:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T09:17:40.268-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When In-Laws Become Family</title><content type='html'>When you marry, you not only gain a life partner, but a whole bunch of new family members.  If you are lucky, they like you and you like them, and Christmas and Thanksgiving and kid birthdays and family reunions are pleasant and full of memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are blessed, some of those new family members take in you into their hearts and love you and you do the same to them.  Eventually there comes a day when they are no longer "in-laws" but just family.  Beloved family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been blessed.  My darling hubby's family is not perfect, and there are those that I'd just as soon never see again, but for the most part, I've grown to love these folks as though I had grown up with them.  Even crazy Aunt Dottie.  Especially Aunt Dottie - because that girl has some *wild* stories!  For each family member, that moment where they became *my* family was different.  For Aunt Dottie, it was the first time I met her, the day after MDH's father had passed away (Dottie was his dad's sister).  She came up to me, gave me a hug and whispered in my ear "I'm the hussy of the family."  I loved her instantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Uncle Cooper, it was the first Christmas in our first house.  We bought it when E was 2 and I was pregnant with J. By the time Christmas rolled around, we had two little boys and I threw everything I had into making that first house that we owned a home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now remember - I love Christmas.  It's my favorite holiday.  I now spend a day and a half just putting up the tree and decorating it. Making my home full of Christmas cheer is something I love to do.  But a decorator I'm not.  Back then, decorating was buying things here and there, and getting hand me downs and throwing them together.  Most of *my* decorating sense at the time was left over from living with 3 other chicks in my early 20's - which could be called "Party Girl Chic 1988" at best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That Christmas, Uncle Cooper and Aunt DeDe came by the house after seeing his mother.  They live in San Angelo, but drove up to see his mom who lived in Lubbock pretty often.  And they always made time to come see us, and they just *adored* E &amp; J.  At the time, they didn't have any grandchildren, and I think our boys were substitutes or something.  So they dropped by for a visit, and shortly after Cooper came in, he looked around my home, and turned to me and said "Isn't that tree pretty?  DeDe, will you look at this house?  Boy - this whole room is just great.  Mysti - you did a great job."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with that, Uncle Cooper became family.  I was very fond of him before, but that moment of affirmation soothed the soul of this young mom and wife in a way that even I didn't realize I needed.  I felt like that maybe, just maybe, I was getting this wife &amp; mom thing done after all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had many years with Uncle Cooper.  I can still see him watching a little E or J and saying "DeDe, will you look at that?" with boundless pride and love at something they had done, whether it was crawling for the first time (which E did at 8 months at their home in San Angelo) or waving a toy and grinning.  Uncle Cooper was as close to a paternal grandfather as my kids will ever have, as MDH's dad passed away before we married.  He was a man who loved his wife and daughter, and never said an unkind word to anyone unless it was warranted.  And even then he was more likely to keep his counsel I think than to be ugly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He worked for Santa Fe until his retirement, and then spent his days golfing as well as with the Silver Hair Legislature.  And last night, after a battle with leukemia, Uncle Cooper passed away.  The world is much sadder place without him.  And this morning, my heart is breaking.  I know he's in a better place.  But I already miss him so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please keep DeDe and Denise, his wife and daughter, in your prayers today.  And my husband, who was always so close to him.  Today will be hard for all of us.  This weekend ....  well - I just don't think I'm ready to think about it yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still can't believe he's gone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-8402032287957888111?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/8402032287957888111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/08/when-in-laws-become-family.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/8402032287957888111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/8402032287957888111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/08/when-in-laws-become-family.html' title='When In-Laws Become Family'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-227238744599378716</id><published>2007-07-16T09:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T09:34:20.416-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Menu Plan'/><title type='text'>Menu Plan Monday - 7/16/07</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Rpt-eZNB64I/AAAAAAAAAAU/ODzG9yXw5QI/s1600-h/MPM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Rpt-eZNB64I/AAAAAAAAAAU/ODzG9yXw5QI/s320/MPM.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087799264671820674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I missed posting menu plan last week due to some family stress as well my son's birthday, but my mom-in-law is now home, and God willing, her PET scan later this week will be clear enough for them to extract her t-cells.  Thanks for all y'all's prayers, and if you could keep 'em coming, that would be great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now - for food!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday - Grilled chicken, potato packets, steamed broccoli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday - Homemade pizza, salad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday - Sonic night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday - Mom's burger stuff, tater tots, green beans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday - Teriyaki chicken, stir fried veggies, rice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday - Smorgasbord of leftovers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday - Fried fish, fried taters, shoepeg corn &amp; pea salad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After much effort, we finally got our &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not-so-easy&lt;/span&gt; set pool set up and filled with water.  It was lovely for about 3 days.  Then, like all pools that haven't been treated, it started to get a bit - discolored.  So of course, we tossed in some chlorine.  That's what you do with pool water right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that water in West Texas - especially &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;well &lt;/span&gt;water - has a high metal content?  And when that high metal content comes into contact with chlorine, it oxidizes?  Yeah - me neither.  And oxidized water can turn *colors*!  In our case, that color was brown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, we didn't know that's what was going on at first.  We just knew we had brown water.  So of course, M runs and buys a ShockIt pack and tosses it in.  Then we had REALLY brown water!  Or - as our friend Kenny said - it looked as though we would have a nice batch of fudge by morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It turns out the trick is to treat the water with something called "Metal Out" which bonds to the metal, and causes it so settle on the bottom.  Then you have to vacuum the bottom, then filter the pool for eleventy billion hours, and eventually the water turns clear again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've had this pool since before July 4th, and no one has swam in it since July 3rd.  Boy - we're getting our money's worth now!  In all fairness, I can't blame the kids for not wanting to swim in brown water.  Or slightly yellowish water.  But if they don't get in pretty soon, I'm going to be forced to shame them into swimming by forcing myself into a suit and getting in.  And honestly - is it fair to scare the bunnies and bird on our land like that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think so either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-227238744599378716?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/227238744599378716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/07/menu-plan-monday-71607.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/227238744599378716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/227238744599378716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/07/menu-plan-monday-71607.html' title='Menu Plan Monday - 7/16/07'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Rpt-eZNB64I/AAAAAAAAAAU/ODzG9yXw5QI/s72-c/MPM.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-363553102883043330</id><published>2007-07-10T09:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T10:00:56.171-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Family'/><title type='text'>The Big C</title><content type='html'>It's odd how when a doctor tells you a loved one is in remission, in this day &amp; age, you just take that to mean that everything is going to be ok.  That's how we felt back in &lt;a href="http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/12/our-own-christmas-miracle.html"&gt;December.&lt;/a&gt;  That everything was going to be ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um.  Not so much.  Last month, during my mom-in-law's 6 month check up, they found 3 new masses.  She was admitted to the hospital yesterday to begin a new course of chemo, then they will extract t-cells to re-implant after a 2nd heavy dose of chemotherapy.  She is only 60 years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She never smoked, although her first husband smoked.  She never drank much, although I've seen her have a wine cooler or two at a bbq.  She never did recreational drugs, although she has been on various other medications her entire adult life for various emotional issues.  In short, she didn't engage in any of the normal risk factors that have been shown to lead to cancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet she is fighting a particular nasty type of non-Hodgkin's lymphoma anyway.  And it irks me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's a nice lady.  I really do like my mom-in-law for the most part.  She lives 4 hours away, but she took me in and treated me like family from the first time my husband took me to meet his family.  She's had a rough life at times, and doesn't deserve to be in a fight like this.  For her very life.  But she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm at a loss because I can't just walk away from my job and go take care of her.  That's my first reaction.  I want to be there in Amarillo.  I want to be able to bring her whatever they'll allow her to drink, and hold that goofy little plastic pan they give you to hurl in, and just listen to her talk (because, good Lord love, that woman does &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;love &lt;/span&gt;to talk!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today is my son's birthday.  He turned 14.  His party is Thursday - he has waited all year to go see the new Harry Potter movie with his friends, and I can't take that from him.  But I am seriously considering taking off work early on Wednesday and driving to Amarillo, even if it's just for a few hours.  I don't like her being there alone.  Her "friend" can't be there everyday, as he has to work.   Her mother is in a nursing home, and I'm not really sure if she really knows how ill her daughter is.  Her brothers - well, let's just say they are not there for her.  All she really has is us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what her prognosis is.  The doctors were very vague with my husband and his mother, other than to tell her this t-cell thing has a 35% chance of working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35%.  That's a 65% chance it won't.  Having the cancer come back so quickly after her 1st round of treatment is bad.  I'm afraid - for her, for my husband.  That my kids won't get to know her anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cancer sucketh.  Much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Add to that - my husband's great-uncle, who is also the godfather of my children, has leukemia.  He &amp;amp; his wife, after months of fighting it, have finally called hospice.  They took him home.  And I don't know how much longer he has.  He is another member of M's family that I love dearly.  I am so blessed to have married a man with a family who was willing to accept and love me from the minute I met them.  I know not everyone has that.  The bad side of that is knowing that you might lose them soon - it's an ache I fight every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read the blogs of several young women - women who are just starting their lives, with small children, women whose faith in God astounds me on a daily basis.  &lt;a href="http://www.especiallyheather.com/"&gt;Heather. &lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://living-in-grace.net/"&gt;Kelli.&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a href="http://wilhoite.blogspot.com/"&gt;Amy.&lt;/a&gt;  I marvel at how they hang onto God's strength - how they use their illness as a way to minister to everyone around them.  I wonder if I would have that strength if it were me.  Or would I rail against fate, screaming "Why me? !  Why me?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had a point.  I wish I had some profound finish.  All I have is heartache and dread.  And a request.  A request that anyone who reads this consider adding my mom-in-law and my great-uncle-in-law to their prayers.  Pray for healing, pray for peace, pray for strength.  And pray that I'll find some way to be a help to my husband and his family in the days and months (God willing) ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because right now I feel pretty helpless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-363553102883043330?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/363553102883043330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/07/big-c.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/363553102883043330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/363553102883043330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/07/big-c.html' title='The Big C'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-7574720042072715529</id><published>2007-07-02T10:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T10:59:51.236-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Menu Plan'/><title type='text'>Menu Plan Monday - 7/2/07 Edition</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Rokg2b50iWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/jeC9pOTkjSc/s1600-h/MPM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Rokg2b50iWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/jeC9pOTkjSc/s320/MPM.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082629774039615842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seriously need to find more time to blog.  All I've blogged lately are menu plans.   We've just been so busy working on the landscaping at the new place, and work continues to be a mess.  Maybe I'll add a little bit after my menu plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday - Chef Salad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday - Spaghetti, salad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday - Sonic night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday - Fish fry, fried taters, fried okra, fried everything!  (pfft.  It's a holiday - calories don't count on holidays, right?) And watermelon for desert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday - Beef tacos, spanish rice, corn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday - Smorgasbord night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday - Daddy's choice again - last week it was Pizza Hut.  Wonder what he'll come up with this week?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case anyone wondered, we are now the proud owners of a big ole John Deere tractor and plow.  M had to drive the tractor home yesterday since he never could get the guy with a trailer to go out there with him.  It only took him 4 hours to drive it out here, which was an hour less than it took him to bring the plow attachment home Saturday hitched to his loaner truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think he's very glad to have that over with.  Although we're afraid that the roads between New Deal and Hicksville will never be the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He plans on plowing up all of our weeds this week.  Which sounds fine and dandy until I realized this means that I'll have 14 acres of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dirt &lt;/span&gt;surrounding me when he's done.   Because we don't have a way to *plant* all the land he's about to plow.  If only he had found a shreader for the tractor first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I meant to share with everyone our adventures in setting up one of those "easy set-up" 4 ft deep pools last week, but work got in the way.  For now I'll just say that when they claim that you have to put it on an absolutely level area, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;they are not kidding.  &lt;/span&gt;We had just a slight slope on the area we tried to set the pool, and sure enough, when it was about half-way full, the water caused the darn thing to collapse on that end, and it drained itself.  I guess that's better than it rippin a hole in itself or something, but it sure made a mess.  We have spent the last week trying to level the ground, and after much moving of dirt, last night we laid everything back out and voila.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it slopes the other direction.  We seriously suck at this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tonight we will either pull the tarps back and rake out some of the new dirt, or we'll try putting more dirt on the other end.  One way or another, tomorrow we start filling that pool, because we are SO going to have a nice cool pool full of water for the 4th of July y'all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if it means I have to build a dirt wall all the way around the darn thing.  Hmph.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-7574720042072715529?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/7574720042072715529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/07/menu-plan-monday-7207-edition.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/7574720042072715529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/7574720042072715529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/07/menu-plan-monday-7207-edition.html' title='Menu Plan Monday - 7/2/07 Edition'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m5UEAT9ro0I/Rokg2b50iWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/jeC9pOTkjSc/s72-c/MPM.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-4279261762608179824</id><published>2007-06-25T09:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T09:52:35.887-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Menu Plan'/><title type='text'>Menu Plan Monday - 6/25/07 edition</title><content type='html'>Last week went so well, I'm doing it again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday - Burgers &amp; chips (I never said I was into health food)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday - BBQ chicken bake, microwave potatoes, green beans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday - Sonic night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday - Smorgasbord&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday - Beef &amp;amp; Broccoli Stir fry, steamed rice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday - Grilled pork chops, fried taters &amp;amp; onions, english peas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday - Daddy's choice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope everyone has a fantastic week - I'll be back tomorrow to share with everyone the joy of the so called Intex "easy setup pool."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easy setup my rear area.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-4279261762608179824?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/4279261762608179824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/06/menu-plan-monday-62507-edition.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/4279261762608179824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/4279261762608179824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/06/menu-plan-monday-62507-edition.html' title='Menu Plan Monday - 6/25/07 edition'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-5302747187807229999</id><published>2007-06-20T11:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T11:18:36.203-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipes'/><title type='text'>Mysti's Pink Chicken</title><content type='html'>Wow - two comments and both of y'all wanting to know how to make my infamous Pink Chicken.  I know - Pink Chicken just sounds wrong doesn't it?  But honestly, it's one of those amazingly kid friendly dishes that I discovered totally by accident while on the South Beach Diet a couple of years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's scary easy too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically take about 4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts.  I've made them with either the breast from a bag o'chicken from WalMart or from just a regular package of chicken from wherever.  The bag o'chicken cooks faster, but the size shrinks a bit as well.  Put the frozen breasts into your skillet (all of mine are non-stick).  Take about a cup or so of raspberry walnut vinagrette dressing and pour it over the the chicken.  Then sprinkle about a teaspoon or two of worchestershire sauce over it.  Sometimes I've also cut up a few cloves of fresh garlic over them as well - especially in summer when I'm trying to prevent being eaten alive by skeeters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now - cover the skillet and turn it on low - I mean really low.  Like 2 or 3 low.  Then go read a book or break up a fight between your kids, or watch House Hunters, or whatever it is you enjoy doing.  Check back every now and then and turn your chicken so the sauce coats the chicken well.  After about 45 minutes, I usually take a spatula and start breaking the chicken into smaller pieces, then stir it up so that even &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;more &lt;/span&gt;chicken surface is covered with the raspberry walnut vinagrette goodness.  The last 5 minutes (it rarely takes more than an hour to cook, but since you can go off and do other things, like change out of your work clothes, or fold that last loud of laundry, or read your new People magazine, it doesn't seem that long), I take the lid off the skillet, and let the chicken brown up a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Serve over your favorite kind of rice, and voila!  Pink Chicken.  Too easy to even be called a recipe, but most kids will eat the tar outta it.  Add a veggie or two and you've got a meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now - if either of y'all try it, you have to promise and come back and tell me what you (and the kids) think, ya hear?  Unless they hate it.  Then you can just throw away the recipe and we'll just forget it ever happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(By the way - I noticed yesterday that my zinnias have sprouted!  Yes - I'm a dork.  No - I don't care - I just tickled that they came up!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-5302747187807229999?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/5302747187807229999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/06/mystis-pink-chicken.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/5302747187807229999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/5302747187807229999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/06/mystis-pink-chicken.html' title='Mysti&apos;s Pink Chicken'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-1973957906343216312</id><published>2007-06-19T09:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T11:18:53.722-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Menu Plan Monday</title><content type='html'>I actually sat down yesterday and wrote out a menu plan for the week.  I discovered pretty quickly not only how much smoother the week goes when we all know what is on the schedule, but also how much more *stressful* it is when I *don't* do it while going through this move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So without further ado - my first Menu Plan Monday posting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday - Pink Chicken, roasted broccoli, corn, saffron rice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday - Sonic night!  We love those half priced burgers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday - Spaghetti, salad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday - Chicken Enchiladas, spanish rice, leftover corn, salad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday - Left over Smorsgabord!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday - Grilled deer, potato, carrot &amp;amp; onion packets, salad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course - I have to convince the hubby to cook on the grill Saturday, but I'm pretty sure that he'll agree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the only thing I had to buy at the store for all this was the taters and milk for the kids.  It's so nice to be stocked up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-1973957906343216312?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/1973957906343216312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/06/menu-plan-monday.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/1973957906343216312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/1973957906343216312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/06/menu-plan-monday.html' title='Menu Plan Monday'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-1672627905454431050</id><published>2007-06-15T09:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T09:26:31.734-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='House Updates'/><title type='text'>Green Acres - HA!</title><content type='html'>No one tells you about landscaping when you plan to move a house out into the country.  Or I suppose when you build one.  No one mentions that when you try to plant those beautiful flowerbeds along your new front porch that the dirt there was originally part of the pad for the house - you know - the one they built up and levelled and PACKED SOLID so the house wouldn't slide down the property when you got 17 inches of rain since January.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because if they had, I wouldn't  have spent several hours with a hoe, hand tiller, shovel and mini rake trying to break it up enough so I could plant snap dragons, day lilies, marigolds and a plethora of verbena, zinnia and phlox seeds.  I would have just put my foot down and said to my husband "I don't *care* that you bought a huge ole tractor, that won't help me with my flower beds, now you get thyself to Lowe's and BUY ME A ROTOTILLER!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I must say - the flower beds do help with the house looking more like a home, and it will look even better once a few of those seeds sprout.  I took some of the leftover brick from the house and created a border that is straight in spots, and wavy in others.  That might have something to do with the unevenness of our yard.  We've also had sod put down over about half the yard - so we have grass.  Sure - it looks like it's gasping it's last breath before it dries out and turns to hay - but the landscape dude tells us that's just shock.  I had no idea that grass was so sensitive.  Apparently it has to adjust to its new home.  At least the grass doesn't wake me up 4 times a night like my dog did the first week out here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, we plant pinto beans in our garden.  Not because I'm a big fan of plain ole pinto beans, or beans and rice, or beans and cornbread, although my husband loves them.  Nope - I love me some green pintos.  That's right - I pick 'em before they get all big and beany and I plan to can 'em just like my grandma did, and y'all - if you love home canned green beans, you will LOVE green pintos.  Honestly.  They are the ultimate.  Cook 'em with some small new potatoes and I could just make a whole meal out of them.  Which is why we are planting &lt;s&gt;half an acre&lt;/s&gt; four rows of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're also growing a ton of tomatoes, which I think I mentioned before.  We had to re-plant due a hailstorm.  And when we did that, I sure as shootin got some peppers to plant too.  Both jalepenos and bell.  Mmmm - hot sauce!  M also decided to plant corn, cucumbers, watermelon and canteloupe in our "small garden."  Now mind you - he didn't bother to pull any of the weeds that had come up since the garden area was plowed up.  So guess what I get to do tonight?  Along with my &lt;s&gt;short&lt;/s&gt; young helpers otherwise known as my sons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Tuesday, I took off work in the morning so that DishNetwork could come install their lovely two-room DVR tuner in my new house.  I waited and waited, and planted lavender bushes by my porch steps.  I then waited and waited and watched the landscape dude lay sod in my yard.  After I planted my daylilies, I called the local phone service company to find out where the heck my Dish dude was and discovered that since the local phone service company couldn't install our land line for another month, they called Dish and canceled our appointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without telling ME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a couple of hours of frustrating phone calls between said phone company and Dish and getting hung up on TWICE, I finally said pfft - called Dish directly and got it all set up for the Dish dude to do his thing tomorrow afternoon.  I also expressed my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;extreme&lt;/span&gt; frustration with the phone company, and lo and behold, I get home the other day and there is some kind of trencher machinery out by our house and I'm thinking it may not be a month before we have a phone line after all.  Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah.  The country life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-1672627905454431050?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/1672627905454431050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/06/green-acres-ha.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/1672627905454431050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/1672627905454431050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/06/green-acres-ha.html' title='Green Acres - HA!'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-5599699073407874751</id><published>2007-06-06T08:44:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T09:00:22.900-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><title type='text'>Mom's, stove's and poo</title><content type='html'>I love my mom.  I do.  But I think she's getting tired of me calling her every single day asking "um - how do you get the &lt;s&gt;Mr. Ice Tea&lt;/s&gt; &lt;s&gt;oven&lt;/s&gt;&lt;s&gt; stove&lt;/s&gt; coffee pot to work?"  Because they left the fancy Mr. Ice Tea maker and coffee pot in the house, but not the manuals and now we are constantly calling her asking her dumb questions.  Which is better than just buying a new oven because we thought the old one (which, by the way, is a Fridgedaire wall oven that was installed when the house was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;built in 1963) &lt;/span&gt;had died during the move.  But no - apparently there is an extra dial you must turn to on and then it works like a charm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping I have more energy tonight to unpack the rest of the bathroom boxes and get the boys' rooms set up.  I admit it - I come home, putter a bit, cook supper, then veg out because oh my WORD we still have a lot to do to settle in.  And I'm nothing if not a champeen putter offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat out on my back porch the other night while the dog watered the new grass, and thanks to the eleventy billion inches of rain we've had this year, noted that there must be at least that many frogs out there.   It certainly changed my idea of a peaceful, quiet country evening.  Because frogs are &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;noisy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;This morning, after I had let the dog out and J was nearly done with his morning waffles, I walked by the french doors and noticed a fairly short but thick twig on the floor.  In the big town we just moved from, it wouldn't have phased me a bit, as we had decent sized trees in both our yard and the neighbors.  But out in Hicksville, we just planted new trees and they aren't all that large.  So - of course I had to go and poke it with my bare toe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know where I'm going with this, doncha?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't a twig.  Nope - apparently sometime between when I let her in and I walked by the doors, my dog had left us a present.  A &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;new &lt;/span&gt;icky squishy present.  I immediately &lt;s&gt;did the "oh my heck my toe touched POOP!  ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew get it off get it off get it OFF!!!" dance &lt;/s&gt; asked J quite calmly to run and grab me a wad of toilet paper from the bathroom, said ew only once and cleaned it up.  A lovely way to start the morning, let me tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how was y'all's morning?&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-5599699073407874751?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/5599699073407874751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/06/moms-stoves-and-poo.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/5599699073407874751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/5599699073407874751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/06/moms-stoves-and-poo.html' title='Mom&apos;s, stove&apos;s and poo'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-7072746774393252042</id><published>2007-06-05T10:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T10:58:05.944-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='House Updates'/><title type='text'>Home at Last</title><content type='html'>At last.  We are moved. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well - mostly moved.  As mentioned&lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.ListAll&amp;friendID=70669575"&gt; here (my evil myspace blog)&lt;/a&gt;, we moved what we four could because our helpers weren't able to help. So we still have to move our entertainment center, the big TV, the tall lamps, my washer &amp;amp; dryer, and the deep freeze.  But that's ok.  We're able to live in Hicksville now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, now begins the unpacking.  I have my kitchen pretty much done, but it's hard to unpack a living room when you don't have an entertainment center.  I think I'll work on our closet and bedroom tonight.  And the boys' rooms.  We still haven't set up E's bed.  He's perfectly happy sleeping on his mattress on the floor, so it just hasn't been done.  I'm hoping he and Dad will get it taken care of tonight, so he can unpack his stuff - I have two or three of his boxes in my living room, and I want them &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;out &lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've had major storms the last week, so our garden is toast.  I think we're going to attempt to re-plant this weekend.  And I can start putting in flower beds and honeysuckle and lilac bushes and mexican broom and line the drive with iris' and....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What!?  I can't help it if I like flowers.  I can finish unpacking later.  Those boxes aren't going anywhere, but if I don't plant soon, all I'll have is dirt around my new home.  And that just won't do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I cooked my first meal in our new house.  I was able to actually set the table (oh yeah - we still need to move my dining table and chairs - thank goodness the house has a built in kitchen table!) with real plates!  And silverware!  And I could fit the food on the table!  Which my prompted this conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"J:  Why is there food on the table?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M:   Because it's time for supper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E:  But we always just get our food from the stove.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M:  That's because our table was always covered with junk.  No more buster.  From now on we eat like this.  No more buffet style for you!  We're going to eat like normal people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J:  This is just weird."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Bless their hearts - they thought people only ate like that on holidays.  &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Just wait until they learn to set the table.  And clear the table.  And clean the table and the counters.  Muahahahahahahahahahahahaha....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though we have propane in the propane tank, and a line run to the house, and regulators on those lines, and all has been checked out by the propane people, for some reason we still do not have the propane turned *on* - so I don't have hot water on the kitchen end of the house.  Which also holds my bathroom.  Needless to say, we're all using the shower in the kids' bathroom.  It's much roomier than the itty bitty stall in *my* bathroom, so I'm not complaining *too* much - although it is kind of a pain to walk to the other end of the house with my contact stuff, towels, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of walking - you never realize just how small your house is until you move into a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;bigger &lt;/span&gt;house and you have to walk all around it unpacking.  If moving doesn't help me lose weight, I don't know what will.  (Of course, it would help if I hadn't just started my &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fifth &lt;/span&gt;oatmeal raisin cookie this morning.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I sat down at the table for supper last night, I looked around in surprise at how we seated ourselves.  I was sitting in my grandma's chair, my husband in my grandpa's chair, my kid's where either my mom and dad, or my uncle and his wife used to sit.  And I marveled that we picked those seats.  When visiting this house, while my grandparents lived there, I always sat on the other side of the table.  The kid's side.  Now I'm sitting on the adult's side.  Like my grandma did.  And I realized that I was content in this home.  My home.  And I was probably feeling the same way she did when they first moved into that house after they had it built.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oddly enough - I think that I'm about the same age she was when she moved into that house.  I just pray that Monty &amp; I have as many happy years in this home as she &amp;amp; grandpa did.  I hope that she checks us out every so often from heaven. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(And I hope she doesn't mind that I painted her paneling!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-7072746774393252042?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/7072746774393252042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/06/home-at-last.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/7072746774393252042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/7072746774393252042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/06/home-at-last.html' title='Home at Last'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-149470637416832483</id><published>2007-05-31T08:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T09:15:22.233-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='House Updates'/><title type='text'>Moving on up....</title><content type='html'>After months of of painting, cleaning, and frustration, I think we are finally making the big move this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say I think because my darling husband has found more reasons to put off this move than there is tea in China.  I'm hoping that the knowledge that while we will have friends to help us move *this* weekend, and they'll all be off partying in Cancun &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;without US &lt;/span&gt;next weekend will keep him focused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally got the house bricked.  We have a pretty brand spankin new fridge with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a water and ice dispenser in the door!  &lt;/span&gt;Which makes me feel just so uptown, let me tell ya.  M is laying some sod down this morning, so the dog will have something to relieve herself on (do not ask me why my cocker will not water dirt.  She will only water vegetation.  She is a weird dog.  Cute and lovable, but weird.)  We have a ton of stuff already moved in and unpacked.  Unfortunately, we have a lot &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;more &lt;/span&gt;stuff to move.  I'll be packing dishes and breakable baking dishes tonight.  As well as the getting the boys to pack the rest of their stuff in their rooms.  I've packed most of my clothes, so we *better* move this weekend, or I'll be running around nekkid next week, which won't be a pretty sight, let me tell you.  I've managed to gain TEN POUNDS in the last 6 months, although how I did that while working my tail off I have no idea.  So that too should keep M motivated to move this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, the boys will be less than thrilled, as we probably won't have our phone bundled with DishNetwork hooked up for a week or so, so they will be limited to the ridiculous collection of kid friendly DVDs we own as well as *&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;gasp&lt;/span&gt;* - local TV.  No Nik, no Cartoon Network.  Poor things.  I'd feel bad for them if they didn't try to take over the TV every single day.  Hmph.  *I* won't be going into TV withdrawals, because sweet Lord who watches over us all and meets every need, the Stanley Cup playoffs move from Versus to NBC on Saturday.  Muahahahahahahahaha.   Perfect.  Now if Ottawa would just learn how to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;score a freakin goal in Anaheim!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;The boys ended up doing very well in school this year, with both of them getting commended on all but one of their TAKS tests.  And they came very close to getting commended on the other ones, but J missed by one question, and I think E missed by 2.  Close enough.  We are very very proud of how well the did academically this year.  J was blessed with a wonderful teacher in Hicksville, and E does even better in small classes out there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started a garden.  Just a little one, M said - we don't want to overwhelm ourselves with so much to do still on the property.  Uh huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone explain to me how SIXTEEN TOMATO PLANTS constitute "a little garden"?  And he won't plant peppers.  I'm sorry, but if I'm going to do something with the tomatos from  16 plants, then by golly, there better be some peppers because I'm going to be making hot sauce, and while I'm willing to buy onions, we need PEPPERS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men.  Love 'em, but sheesh.  Besides the 16 tomato plants, we also planted cucumbers, yellow squash, watermelon and cantaloupe.  Which is good because I love me some watermelon and cantaloupe.  As soon as I get moved, we will be adding radishes and peppers.  Both bell and jalepeno.  But not so much jalepeno.  Because those things are HOT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y'all keep us in your thoughts as we move this weekend.  Primarily, pray that it will not rain another 5  inches, because seriously - having over 13 inches of rain this year already is so beyond weird, when our normal average rainfall is 5 1/2 inches. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Semi arid my hiney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-149470637416832483?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/149470637416832483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/05/moving-on-up.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/149470637416832483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/149470637416832483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/05/moving-on-up.html' title='Moving on up....'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-634389169756908562</id><published>2007-05-10T09:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T10:16:29.059-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><title type='text'>Breakin In to Hicksville</title><content type='html'>One of the things I really looked forward to about moving to a smaller town was getting to know my neighbors.  I was convinced that folks in small towns were infinitely friendlier than those in the big towns, and that I would be welcomed into the fold via my homegrown family members that had lived in Hicksville all their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umm.  Not so much.  After a year of having my kids in school in Hicksville, and attending a variety of school events, I still only know my 2nd cousin and his family, the gal I went to high school with that also moved out to Hicksville this last year and .... well.  That's it.  I've met a couple of others.  They've smiled politely when introduced.  But other than that, I don't really exist to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, I have a great group of friends here in the big town, so it's not something I dwell on.  It's not like I don't have people to hang out with.  But I'm sure Daddy found it a little weird when he came to the boys' spring concert, and I didn't have a single person to introduce him to.  I forget that we haven't really  made any friends out there until I arrive to one of these school events (spring concert, track meet, etc) and see everyone else greeting each other.  Then I realize that I really am the "outsider" still.  And my kids probably still are as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did small towns get so exclusive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in junior high, we moved around for about 3 years with  my dad.  We lived in small little towns all over the western part of the US.  And I was always welcomed.  I was new.  Fresh meat, so to speak.  I wasn't drop dead gorgeous, so the girls didn't feel threatened, and didn't hesitate to reach out to me.  I wasn't butt ugly, so the boys were intrigued, and wanted to date me.  I loved smalled towns.  My folks loved small towns.  My husband grew up in a small town.  Why &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; I want to move my family to one and have my kids enjoy that lifestyle?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to admit - I'm a bit shy.  I'm not the gal that will immediately walk over to you and talk you up, unless of course, I'm in "my element" - then I will definitely try to reach out and make you feel welcome.  So maybe it's my own fault, for not finding someway to connect with the people of Hicksville.  Maybe once we move, and are living out there full time instead of being commuters, we'll manage to make some friends.  Maybe once we start going to church out there, it will give us more of a chance to interact, and the Hicksvillians will realize what fun, witty, fascinating people we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe not.  What if we end up being the outsiders forever?  For myself, it would make me a bit sad, but wouldn't kill me.  As I said - I have real friends in the big town that I will continue to be friends with.  We're not that far out, and we've already discussed what a great place the new house will be to gather and drink and eat and laugh, etc.  For my husband?  Pfft.  He's not that social anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for my kids?  THAT'S what I really worry about.  Just how long will my boys be considered &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the new kids?&lt;/span&gt;  When do they become locals?  After a year?  Two?  Five?  It doesn't  help that the local bully brothers are in the same grades as my kids, and my kids are their latest targets.  Or that the BB's (as I shall call them now, because heaven knows, I don't want them discovering this blog out of nowhere and threatening to sue ME because I've dared to say &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;what everyone else tells us &lt;/span&gt;about their darling boys.  And believe me - I wouldn't put it past them to run a daily google search on themselves, their boys, and Hicksville &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;just to make sure proper respect is being shown to them.  Pfft.&lt;/span&gt;) have learned their interaction skills from their folks.  Yes - because if you dare to assign consequences to these kids, their parents are more than willing to bribe or threaten until the administration backs down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to sic them on Osama.  Trust me - dude would be TOAST.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh dear.  This has turned into a whiny "why don't they like my kids?" post, hasn't it?  Actually, my kids seem to get along with the other Hicksvillians well enough, but they haven't really made &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;friends &lt;/span&gt;with anyone.  We've yet to get a call from anyone out there.  That makes me so sad.  While not a popular kid growing up, I always had a group of friends.  And I think that my oldest would &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;like &lt;/span&gt;to be that way, but he hasn't yet learned how to do that.  After years of being bullied at his big town school, he just lost all confidence in himself.  He doesn't know how to be a friend anymore, because those punks never let him have any.  And I don't have a clue how to teach him that.  I didn't learn those skills, I just "was".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wish it were easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just thought it would be easier for them.  And it's not.  And that sucketh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-634389169756908562?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/634389169756908562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/05/breakin-in-to-hicksville.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/634389169756908562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/634389169756908562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/05/breakin-in-to-hicksville.html' title='Breakin In to Hicksville'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-5543869075416274829</id><published>2007-05-02T14:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T14:44:25.012-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='House Updates'/><title type='text'>Slowly but surely</title><content type='html'>Goodness - imagine that.  A whole month and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;still&lt;/span&gt; my house has not been bricked.  To be fair, they were &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;supposed &lt;/span&gt;to start that today.  Before it started raining.  And raining.  And I'm pretty sure it's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;still &lt;/span&gt;raining out there.  It's just bizarre.  Technically we are in a semi-arid zone.  At some point this last year, the "arid" part seems to have disappeared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite all that - we are making some progress.  We're moving things into the house.  We're unpacking.  I've ordered - and received - the cutest drapes &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ever&lt;/span&gt; which I will  hang in the living room soon.  Our new bedroom furniture has been delivered and arranged and is entirely too big for the current master bedroom - I've reassured M that once we re-do the old garage, it will look PERFECT in that room.  We have two new couches which are much larger than M thought, and I've managed to not say even &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;once &lt;/span&gt;"I told you we should have bought a love seat and a couch" or "YOU wanted two couches."  We've planted trees, our brick has been delivered to our property, and each time we are out there we just count our blessings.  It won't be much longer.  And we just can't WAIT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some day.  Maybe even before summer!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-5543869075416274829?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/5543869075416274829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/05/slowly-but-surely.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/5543869075416274829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/5543869075416274829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/05/slowly-but-surely.html' title='Slowly but surely'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-7503065114710411207</id><published>2007-03-29T09:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T09:29:04.242-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='House Updates'/><title type='text'>Thy Will Be Done</title><content type='html'>Living in West Texas, the coming of spring is discovered in different ways than up north.  There is no crocus pushing up through the snow.  No - in West Texas, it's the first green of the dandelions in your lawn.  Your iris' beginning to put on new broad leaves.  The dirt blowing so hard you can't see more than two blocks and the sky turns brown.  And of course, the most &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;definite &lt;/span&gt;sign of spring....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The appearance of Ron Roberts on channel 28.  To report on the latest round of thunderstorms and tornados and hail and torrential rain.  Weeeehaaaa!  Spring has sprung!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend we had a couple rounds of storms, including twisters over in New Mexico, and my favorite, low energy funnels in Lubbock during lunch on Sunday.  My darling M, while down south at the lake "relaxing," was too busy cleaning bass to answer my phone calls informing him that his wife and children were about to take a trip to Oz, and to be sure and feed the dog because we don't want her to be barking at Toto and we'd miss him and for heaven's sake, DO NOT GIVE AWAY MY CLOTHES because I'm sure we'll only be gone a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, it wasn't anywhere near our home, and I did get a great deal of amusement of watching the plethora of Tech students who climbed on top of their duplexes to see if they could see the funnels, despite the large amount of thunder and lightening.  Hey - we're in Texas.  When there is a twister in the area, you can find us in two places - the front yard or the back yard.  (or the roof apparently if you're young and immortal)  The kids did get to see their first "live" funnel and as they are their mother's sons, both were tickled to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we had another round, with bad storms off the east, then a line developing around bedtime on the Tx/NMX state border.  I had hoped that we wouldn't have any rain out in Hicksville, because the ground is beyond saturated, and we can't get the house bricked until it dries out.  I quickly gave up that wish in favor of praying that there would be no GOLF BALL SIZED HAIL! break out all of the windows in the new house and ruin everything inside.  I spent two hours gritting my teeth and saying over and over "Thy will, Lord...thy will.  If you must have rain, then let it rain.  If you have a reason for busting out our windows and having us start all over, thy will, Lord.  Thy will.  But if you could have that hail dodge us, Lord, we sure would appreciate it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M went by this morning.  Lots of rain, no hail that he could see.  The new trees he planted last week still have their leaves.  My iris' that were planted by the road aren't shredded (unlike the ones in my flower beds in Lubbock). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thy will, Lord.   And thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-7503065114710411207?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/7503065114710411207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/03/thy-will-be-done.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/7503065114710411207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/7503065114710411207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/03/thy-will-be-done.html' title='Thy Will Be Done'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-2554829397895829591</id><published>2007-03-07T09:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-07T09:46:35.756-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>Through the years....</title><content type='html'>I am not a tall person.  I'm all of 5'3 and 3/4" tall.  (and yes - I do need to mention that 3/4, because when you're short, every. bit.counts!)  My husband is taller, but he's still not basketball tall - he's only 5'10" - which is perfect for *me*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So would someone please tell me how I ended up with a son who is apparently going to be 6'4"???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has managed to outgrow all of the jeans we bought him at the start of school - the ones I bought kinda long hoping that he'd wear them longer.  We already replaced 3 pair around Christmas.  Today - as I stood in the new Target and approved the length (I'm tellin ya - I'm not buying any more jeans until next fall darnit!) and fit of 3 more pairs of size 16 boys jeans - I realized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the last time I'll buy him clothes in the boys department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He'll be 14 this summer.  And he's quickly growing out of the size 16 boys clothes - and when I buy him clothes next time - it'll be in the mens department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The. Mens. Department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How the heck did &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;happen?  I watched him walk out and place the jeans into the basket and I remembered the tiny baby he was - who gnawed so fiercely on his tiny fist - not understanding why nursing was so hard after being bottle fed by the nurses at the hospital when he had jaundice.  And the trusting looks he gave me when he (we) finally figured it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered the joyous moment when he smiled at me the first time - and how thrilled I was at that first wide toothless grin.  So thrilled I didn't even notice that I had left my car keys in the seat when I took him into the nursery and told everyone he had just! smiled! at! ME!  I didn't notice until I tried to open my car door and saw them sitting there - and I just laughed, turned around and went in to call my husband to come let me in my car - but first I told him about that smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered his first steps - with his arms flung out to the sides for balance and his smile and his joy at being able to finally walk like the big people in his life.  I remembered the first time he patted my pregnant belly and said "hi baby J! Come out now!"  And the time he bit his baby brother's toe when I was nursing him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I drove us to Sonic for a drink and then home - several E memories floated through my mind.  Memories of the story of the baby bear - where he told me they had one in his daycare class - and if they were good they got to take it out and pet it and feed it a little bear chow, and how he told it so convincingly - that even though I *knew* better - I still looked around the room carefully when I dropped him off.  I should have known right then that embellishing would be his forte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That little boy isn't a little boy any more.  He's nearly a young man.  One that is bright, witty, and onery.  And while I'll always miss that little boy that used to run to me when I arrived to pick him up - I'm pretty proud of the young man that saunters up to my truck after school now - even if it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;does &lt;/span&gt;annoy the tar outta me when his first words are "'Sup momsie-o?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's just all part of it, eh?  And does it make me a total dork that I literally got tears in my eyes about 5 times while typing this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-2554829397895829591?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/2554829397895829591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/03/through-years.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/2554829397895829591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/2554829397895829591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/03/through-years.html' title='Through the years....'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-1574332725617376550</id><published>2007-02-22T09:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T10:14:53.688-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><title type='text'>Green Acres</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;New York&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;     is where I'd rather stay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;    I get allergic smelling hay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;    I just adore a penthouse view&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;    Darling, I love you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;    but give me Park Avenue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;As you might have noticed, &lt;a href="http://www.thepioneerwoman.com/confessions_of_a_pioneer_/"&gt;Confessions of a Pioneer Woman&lt;/a&gt; is one of my must-reads every.  single. day.   What's not to love?  She  can &lt;a href="http://www.thepioneerwoman.com/confessions_of_a_pioneer_/burps/index.html"&gt;burp "good morning"&lt;/a&gt; for pete's sake!  And honestly, I'm getting a wee bit of a crush on her &lt;a href="http://www.thepioneerwoman.com/confessions_of_a_pioneer_/marlboro_man/index.html"&gt;Marlboro Man.&lt;/a&gt;  I mean - she posts pictures of him in CHAPS!  A Texas girl like myself has a hard time resisting that kind of manliness.  Luckily for her - I live eleventy bagillion miles away and I'm not near as gorgeous as she is.  I think Marlboro Man is safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wondering why I'm rambling about PW?  Because this morning, she had a picture of her youngest.  On a HORSE!!!  He's like TWO!  Who knew two year olds could ride already?  I mean - horses are BIG!  And he's LITTLE!  And I'm so impressed that her two year old can ride and the last time I was on a horse my butt was so sore I couldn't sit on anything but PILLOWS for a week that I've resorted to use ALL CAPS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm such a city girl.  I had no idea kids that young can ride.  How in the world am I going to manage living out in the sticks?  On my way home from the house last night, I was plotting where I was going to plant my millions of iris bulbs that I dug out of our flowerbeds in town.  I had visions of lining my drive with them - purple ones on the north, white ones on the south.  I could &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;see &lt;/span&gt;myself tilling the ground, planting bulbs - spacing them out enough that I didn't have to thin them for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;at least&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;5 years, then watering them in......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And realized that I would  have to have a 100 foot hose to water all the way down the drive.  Not to mention those I've already planted down by the road last fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just never occurred to me before last night.  I've always lived in homes where you just hook a hose to a faucet and bam!  Water.  You know - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;city &lt;/span&gt;lots.  But I'm about to be on a BIG country lot and the well is a long ways from the drive and oh my hell - what am I gonna do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does Gebos carry 100 foot hoses?  Cuz if they don't - I'm screwed.  Oh!  I wonder if a spray nozzle can shoot water that far? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See?  I'm so unprepared for this.  What if we get snakes?  I HATE snakes! It's one thing to imagine "living in the country."  I beginning to realize the reality will be a whole nother story.&lt;br /&gt;What if a coyote eats my dog?  I love my dog.  I would not be happy if a coyote ate my dog.  As a matter of fact, if said coyote &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;did&lt;/span&gt; eat my dog, said coyote would not be long for this world.  At least I don't have to worry about deer eating my garden like Katrina.  But I'm betting I'll be battling bunnies all summer long to keep them out of my garden.  Not that I have any clue how to battle bunnies that want to eat my black eyed peas and okra.  Everything I know about battling bunnies I learned from Monty Python and the Holy Grail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone know where I can find a Holy Hand Grenade?  Cuz I think I may need one......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-1574332725617376550?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/1574332725617376550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/02/green-acres.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/1574332725617376550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/1574332725617376550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/02/green-acres.html' title='Green Acres'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-117207344682777355</id><published>2007-02-21T09:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T08:57:20.133-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='House Updates'/><title type='text'>Brittney shaved her head?  Who knew?!?</title><content type='html'>Oh it is fun times in this part of the state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Friday?  The local city council of the town I will be moving *from* had the po-lice arrest - get this - The Chippendales.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I. Am. Not. Kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20 minutes into the show I hear.  I actually didn't go last Friday for varied reasons (including my husband was sick as a dog and *someone* had to keep the children from eating all the candy in the house and watching racy movies on TV).  But many of my friends did - and some were not at all happy.  I  mean really - these guys &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;didn't even get a chance to take their pants off!  &lt;/span&gt;And they were wearing *hotpants* under the pants.  Not g-strings.  Not thongs.  Not even BREIFS.  Hotpants.  Oooo - thank goodness the city council saved all those consenting adult women from being subjected to THAT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes - I'm being sarcastic.  I think it was dumb.  I also think they really just wanted to shut the club owner down for whatever reason, and I get *really* annoyed when those in power use that power to a) punish those they don't like or b) tell me what I can &amp; can't do morally.  Excuse me - I'll make my *own* moral decisions, ok?  And if they want to run all "sexually oriented entertainment" out of town - then just have the ouevos to say that.  Sheesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND - we get to hear all about it.  Every newscast has another spin. Every day the paper has a new article.  The local talk radio?  All about it.  We even have radio dj's raising cain at city council town meetings.  I hear tell it made CNN.   I'm telling ya - we're just quite the cosmopolitan town here in good ole West Texas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't even hear about Brittney's hair escapade until yesterday &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;afternoon!  &lt;/span&gt;Or maybe it was yesterday morning.  Either way - we've been entirely too busy to worry about Brittney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo - for the two who read on a regular basis - I have 3 of the color walls done - and one coat on the red wall.  We got the paneling painted yesterday.  Of course, my youngest tells me that his wall isn't navy enough.  Navy?  No one said *anything* about navy - he said "like the Denver Broncos" and I thought I had gotten close enough to that color....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently not.  Now I have to fix it.  And I'm betting that E's wall isn't "St. Louis Rams" blue enough either.  *sigh*  I wonder if I can talk the hubs into going back to the paint store?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-117207344682777355?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/117207344682777355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/02/brittney-shaved-her-head-who-knew.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/117207344682777355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/117207344682777355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/02/brittney-shaved-her-head-who-knew.html' title='Brittney shaved her head?  Who knew?!?'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-117163891252243232</id><published>2007-02-16T08:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T08:58:49.973-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hockey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>Adjusting to Hicksville</title><content type='html'>I find it ironic that the last post I did was about hockey.  Why you ask?  Because they fired our coach Sunday night.  AFTER a win.  A win against a pretty decent team too.  Now they've hired some former NHL superstar type who has never coached before for the rest of the season.  This should be interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My &lt;a href="http://p223.ezboard.com/bthekingscourt"&gt;message board &lt;/a&gt; has just been a bundle of fun all WEEK.  I don't think we've ever had this kind of traffic before.  It just makes me glad we renewed our Gold (aka - no popups) status in the summer - I don't even want to think of what it would cost now to do it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are those who think it was wrong to fire our coach this late in the season.  They go on and on about how &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hard &lt;/span&gt;he works - and how &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hard &lt;/span&gt;he tries.  You know what?  William Hung tried really hard too - but he still couldn't sing.  If you ain't got the talent, you ain't got the talent, capesh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house is coming along - the hubs has painted all the tan walls with two coats, and this weekend we intend to get the color walls done.  Then we wait a few days - paint the paneling and the ceilings.  Then we get to start cleaning - woohoo! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E is having a harder time adjusting to Hicksville than I had hoped.  While he's not getting bullied like he was in the big city, now - he's just kinda ignored.  I don't know what to do - or what to tell him.  I remember very well what it was like coming into a new school.  It's not easy making friends.  Sure - at first everyone is nice to you because you're new - but after awhile - if you don't find something in common with them - then they go back to their lives and forget you're there.  And for a kid that really seems to *need* buddies - it's so hard for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if it might have been easier if he had stayed in basketball instead of opting for off-season training after football season was over?  Now they're about to start track season, and he's going to be involved in that.  Maybe that will help?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, it doesn't help that he was struck by the acne curse - from both sides of the family.  Both his dad and myself have such oily skin - and he does too.  Poor kid - he started getting breakouts when he was 10.  Now he's 13 and it's just a never-ending battle just to get him to wash his face twice a day and treat the bigger zits and scrub hard enough to get the blackheads....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I worry too much?  Auuuuugggghhhhh!!!!  WHY don't we get a teenager manual?  Seriously - what do *I* know about raising a BOY?  I was supposed to have DAUGHTERS!!!!  Girls that I could teach how to apply makeup so they didn't look like mini-hos, and insist that they start wearing a well fitted bra early so they never had to worry about boob saggage at an early age.   GIRLS!!!!    By the time my little brother was this age, I was in the midst of teenage rebellion and totally ignored him - I have no idea what to do for E.  How to help him make this transition - how to teach him NOT to piss everyone off.  Because my son - he doesn't have that filter that keeps us from saying thoughtless stuff.  Nope - he's brutally honest with others because he just doesn't filter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also tries to be funny.  Sometimes he is - the kid is bright and witty and sometimes says things that literally have me laughing my rear area off.  And he revels in that.  But more often than not he tries to be funny - and unintentionally hurts someone's feelings instead.  How do you teach them the difference?  Or is it something that is just ingrained in someone?  I have no idea.  But it breaks my heart to see him hurt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-117163891252243232?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/117163891252243232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/02/adjusting-to-hicksville.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/117163891252243232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/117163891252243232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/02/adjusting-to-hicksville.html' title='Adjusting to Hicksville'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-117106298972687388</id><published>2007-02-09T17:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T08:59:04.006-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hockey'/><title type='text'>For the Love of Hockey</title><content type='html'>I may have mentioned once or twice before that I'm a bit of a hockey fan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A bit" would be putting it mildly.  I'm a hockey  fanatic.  Truly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In September, I start the ice watch.  Where  we wait for them to put the ice in at the coliseum.  And once we  (that would be me and  my fellow fanatic, Jules) know that it's in - we go to  smell the ice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smell. The. Ice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because we're freaks that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh - we don't get down to ice level and sniff it - it's just mainly walking into the building. There is a certain smell to a hockey rink.  (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No - not the locker room - that's a completely different stench&lt;/span&gt;)  We go up to our seats and check out the ice - see how the logos look - if the red line is straight, stuff like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then we wait patiently for training camp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok - no I don't.  I complain everyday unless there is a signing announced.  I hope against hope that this year we'll finally have a team that will not only make the playoffs - but GO somewhere - maybe even the finals.  Maybe even win the Cup.  So I spend too much time on The King's Court, and wait for training camp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which I go to, by the way.  For the entire first week.  And take &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;notes.  &lt;/span&gt;Yes I do.  Then I write up reports on the message board.  I actually make a point to save up my vacation time so that I can take off for two hours a day for a week to attend a minor league hockey team training camp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told you.  I'm a freak.  I admit it.  I'm not ashamed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm right there when the season starts.  I'm in the booster club.  I was even president for a couple of years.  I go to all the games, and enjoy the thrill of the game, and the sound of skates on ice - a sound like no other.  And as we start off the season with hopes of the playoffs - I'm excited and thrilled and wear my goofy crown and my hockey bracelet and one of my many jerseys (I'm from Texas y'all - we call 'em jerseys because a sweater is something you wear skiing.)  and put on my hockey necklace and I'm so optimistic!  And I just know THIS. WILL. BE. THE. YEAR!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then - the last few years, anyway- reality sits in.  And we start losing.  But I still go.  Even though I'm pretty sure our coach just doesn't have what it takes to put together and coach a playoff team.  Even though our team doesn't have what it takes to win a cup.  I still go.  Even when sneezing eleventy billion times an hour - I still go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Of course, Jules hates it when I do go then - because she sits next to me and has to spend the entire evening spraying me with Lysol.  But I digress.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because when it comes down to it - I love hockey.  And even when I detest the low down dirty sneaks that own this team, and the coach that is in over his head and too clueless to realize it....I still go.  For the game.  For the thrill of a goal.  For the fun of seeing grown men duke it out then sit in the penalty box like chastened boys in time out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I love hockey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's all there is to it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-117106298972687388?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/117106298972687388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/02/for-love-of-hockey.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/117106298972687388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/117106298972687388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/02/for-love-of-hockey.html' title='For the Love of Hockey'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-117106030644934418</id><published>2007-02-09T16:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T09:00:06.319-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Mundane'/><title type='text'>Attack of the Cold....</title><content type='html'>Could I please stop sneezing now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear - I just sneezed eleventy-BILLION times just now.  And I took a generic  sudafed (that I had to SIGN for when I bought them - just so they would have PROOF that I bought them - just in case I used them to make crack or crank or whatever it is you make with 2 boxes of generic sudafed.  Pfft - like I'd waste generic sudafed on CRACK!) just a couple of hours ago, so I can't take another one for another hour or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colds are no fun.  Although, after a couple of generic sudafeds and a couple of beers at the hockey game tonight - I bet *I'm* alot of fun.  Or at least entertaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My buddy Lacasse better have worn his earplugs tonight - because unless he scores a few goals, I'd bet money that a doped up Mysti will be hollering that he sucks again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because, you know, I'm mean that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially after a couple of generic sudafeds.  (yes yes - I know - it's really psuedopherineahuckahookasomething, but I can't SPELL that without digging out the package, and then I'd just be tempted to take one early, and we don't want Mysti getting loopy on psuedohookasomething so early, do we?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm.  Apparently just one is enough to get me typing in the 3rd person.  That's a scary thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep thinking I'm seeing little white things falling outside.  I certainly hope if they ARE falling - it's psuedohockasomething induced hallucinations, because I'm in no mood for more snow.  We have to start painting the house this weekend.  And we'd really like to be able to open a few windows.  Otherwise - it won't be psuedopheromonehoookas that we'll be loopy on - it'll be paint fumes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I've scared off the two people who seem to read this blog - I think I'll go do my to do list for next Monday, and find something totally unredeeming yet amusing to watch on You Tube.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And sneeze.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-117106030644934418?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/117106030644934418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/02/attack-of-cold.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/117106030644934418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/117106030644934418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/02/attack-of-cold.html' title='Attack of the Cold....'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-117086427443143024</id><published>2007-02-07T10:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T08:59:27.483-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='House Updates'/><title type='text'>Psst.  Rumorville in Hicksville....</title><content type='html'>I hear tell - now - it's just hearsay.  But I hear tell that a cement truck is supposed to head out to Hicksville today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, you know, might actually pour some of that cement in these frames.  Ones that will actually form my porches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I know - you shouldn't listen to gossip.  But just in case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may have a porch tomorrow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woohoo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-117086427443143024?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/117086427443143024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/02/psst-rumorville-in-hicksville.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/117086427443143024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/117086427443143024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/02/psst-rumorville-in-hicksville.html' title='Psst.  Rumorville in Hicksville....'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-117035642033283595</id><published>2007-02-01T12:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T09:00:23.738-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Mundane'/><title type='text'>Did we REALLY love the 80s?</title><content type='html'>So - while perusing blogs instead of working hard this morning (ok - so I was opening mail while perusing blogs, so it wasn't a complete goof off morning), I came across &lt;a href="http://alphadogma.blogspot.com/2007/02/oh-joys-of-ohthejoys.html"&gt;this post&lt;/a&gt;.   And I thought to myself....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(after watching the MC Hammer video)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the HELL were we thinking back then?  What on &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;earth &lt;/span&gt;possessed us to think that wearing spandex workout gear in public - out of the gym - was a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;good &lt;/span&gt;idea?  I mean really.  I think back - and distinctly remember not only the pink bike shorts I wore on a regular basis in the summer - but the GREEN ones M wore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I love my hubs, this was not a good look.  For either of us.  I shudder to remember our horrendous taste in clothes.  I remember sleeveless t's and acid washed jeans and ankle boots and huge earrings and heavens to betsy - PARACHUTE PANTS - and wonder ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Were we *doing* that many drugs back then?  Or were we drinking THAT much beer?  Because my LORD - those were not good looks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we won't even discuss the whole running around in nothing but bike shorts and a black bra trend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-117035642033283595?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/117035642033283595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/02/did-we-really-love-80s.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/117035642033283595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/117035642033283595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/02/did-we-really-love-80s.html' title='Did we REALLY love the 80s?'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-117019350888309589</id><published>2007-01-30T15:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T09:01:07.278-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='House Updates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>Rain rain - go away.....</title><content type='html'>I am &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;done &lt;/span&gt;texturing the house.  Yes sirree - I've swirled my last swirl, dabbed my last crow's foot, and will be covered in mud no more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well - until it's time to do the utility room.  But other than THAT - I'm done.  Now we just have to mask off the trim, tape and cover the floors and then Monty can paint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tile in the kitchen, utility room and entry way looks &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wonderful.  &lt;/span&gt;I love it.  The new french door looks pretty cool too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No progress on the porches, as it's been too wet and muddy after the Not-So-Great Blizzard of 2007.  I had hopes for later this week, but according to Intellicast, we have a 30% chance of wet crap tonight, 30% chance for wet crap tomorrow, and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;50%  &lt;/span&gt;chance of wet crap tomorrow night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe next week. Maybe next month.  Maybe by my birthday......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, J got a "Notice of Concern" for science.  Seems he's acing his tests, but not turning in his daily work.  We recently discovered that he is supposed to be bringing home a science folder every day.  That he hasn't been bringing home.  Apparently  he loves doing the hands on stuff - up until they start doing .... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;paperwork.  &lt;/span&gt;Like worksheets and other evil handouts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The horror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So - last night he brought brought home his science folder.  But not his incomplete worksheets.  OR his science book.  In case you haven't guessed, organization is *not* his strong suit.  And I have yet to figure out how to help him get *more* organized.  If anyone has any bright ideas, please let me know.  Soon.  Before he manages to you know, actually FLUNK science - while acing all the tests?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I did manage to scar him for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;life &lt;/span&gt;this weekend.  After spending the day Sunday finishing up the ceilings out at the house, I came home and wanted nothing more than to take a shower and get the sand and mud and gunk off of me before I went to the hockey game.  I go into my bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;MY &lt;/span&gt;bedroom.  I disrobe.  Because the door is shut and it's MY bedroom.  I hear J and the dog outside my door.  I say - because I'm a mom and all psychic like that - "Don't come in  here!" And what does he do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pfft.  Opens the door when I'm standing there wearin nothing but my panties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm telling ya -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scarred. For. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Life&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the very least, I'm betting he'll never be a boob man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-117019350888309589?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/117019350888309589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/01/rain-rain-go-away.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/117019350888309589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/117019350888309589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/01/rain-rain-go-away.html' title='Rain rain - go away.....'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-116974114291118379</id><published>2007-01-25T09:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T09:01:14.165-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='House Updates'/><title type='text'>Nationals and a house report...</title><content type='html'>(because I know both of y'all are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dying &lt;/span&gt;to hear about the house....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't posted anything in a while, but I did blog about Nationals &lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&amp;friendID=70669575&amp;amp;blogID=221812492&amp;MyToken=576db959-9379-49a0-99c6-98729bba1d6f"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;   I love Nationals.  I just want to giggle like a goofy kid when I think about it being on tonight.  I just hope I can keep from reading all the spoilers online before then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house - well - the kitchen tile is down, grouted and sealed, and looks &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;spectacular. &lt;/span&gt;No - really - I'm not just saying that.  It brightens up the entire kitchen.  And the entry way (we were able to do the entry way in the same tile after all.  Of course, we have 3 boxes of broken tile to return) It's awesome.  After the Not-So-Great Blizzard of 2007, the "farm" is tres muddy and it's utterly impossible for the porch dude to come pour my porches.  :-\  I continue to gently pray for sunshine.  And warmer temperatures.  And NO MORE RAIN FOR TWO MORE WEEKS!!!  Then maybe we could get this thing DONE.  If you are so moved, feel free to drop a prayer about that as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be texturing and muddin' and swirlin' this weekend.  Wish me much luck - because if I can get that all done this weekend, next week - M can start painting the house.  And once we're all painted - porches or not - we can get my matching bedroom furniture delivered, as well as the new couch and loveseat that my beloved is ordering today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby steps...it's all about baby steps....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-116974114291118379?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/116974114291118379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/01/nationals-and-house-report.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116974114291118379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116974114291118379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/01/nationals-and-house-report.html' title='Nationals and a house report...'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-116913568457272508</id><published>2007-01-18T09:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T09:05:01.108-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Country Living'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='House Updates'/><title type='text'>Stock Show Day...</title><content type='html'>One of the advantages of my boys going to a small town school is that they have different holidays than the big city.  (Ok - Lubbock is NOT a big city - but it's bigger than Ropes).  This was a source of delight for my boys when they started school later than their friends, and when they got out of school earlier for the Christmas holidays.  It was *not* a source of delight when they had to go back to school two days earlier than Lubbock did.  Nor was it a source of delight when they had to go to school Monday while Mom got to stay home in honor of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.  (pfft.  I spent the day working on the house.  They got to go to school 2 hours late due to the ice storm. Whiners.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another advantage is "Stock Show Day" where my kids get out of school at noon today.  Now - they don't have any animals to take to the stock show, but by golly - apparently there are enough kids at Ropes ISD that do so that EVERYONE gets to leave school!  Woohoo! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, Mom still has to work.  So DAD gets to go pick 'em up and spend the day with his sons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heh Heh heh.  I should feel envious.  But I know that I will spend the entire weekend cooped up with the 3 of them when the Great Blizzard of 2007 hits Friday, so I'm cool with working today while Dad entertains the boys.  Muahahahahahahahahahahaha......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;House report - (because I know that the two people who stop by due to bizarre google searches are just DYING to hear how it's going....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hubs has finished caulking the corners and baseboards and where ever else he needed to caulk, so I have the greenlight to finish texturing the ceilings and walls.  The sliding glass patio door was replaced Monday with my new fancy french doors with the mini-blinds between the glass - and we discovered that new fancy french doors made today are about 5 - 6 inches shorter than sliding glass doors installed in 1963.  Goody!  More sheetrock for me to texture.  Good thing I'm so darn good at that, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tile guy has laid all the tile in the kitchen, utility room and in front of said new fancy french doors, and will be grouting it today.  I can't &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;wait &lt;/span&gt;to see it!  Of course, the tile they gave us for the entry way is the wrong darn color, so we have to pick some other tile for the entry way.  I have a feeling that I'll be doing that at lunch - trying to find something that Lowe's has in stock.  It doesn't *have* to match the kitchen - although it would have been handy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The porches are still mounds of frozen dirt because apparently you can't pour concrete when it's eleventy-million degrees below freezing.  And that situation isn't looking to improve anytime soon.  I will be sending up gentle prayers, in between really important ones (like for my mom-in-law, who is doing very well, and my kids' godfather, who is not doing quite so well, and &lt;a href="http://www.especiallyheather.com/"&gt;Emma Grace&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://boomama.net/?p=740"&gt;Kelli - and wow - what an amazing miracle THAT was! &lt;/a&gt;) asking for the good Lord to please let it warm up for a few days next week so they can pour my porches.  Of course, he's so busy with the important stuff, he may just tell me no and to quit my whining because I'll get moved into my new house in His own good time.  *sigh* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would be out there today texturing, but classes started last week and I just can't justify taking off.  So that's where we are, and that's where we'll be for the next week or so.  I'm off to see how many new grad students we have - woohoo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-116913568457272508?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/116913568457272508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/01/stock-show-day.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116913568457272508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116913568457272508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/01/stock-show-day.html' title='Stock Show Day...'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-116855568542010855</id><published>2007-01-11T16:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T09:05:46.213-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='House Updates'/><title type='text'>And this is the post in which</title><content type='html'>I brag about how well I did texturing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah - yesterday was a bit gloomy at Casa de Digby.  I was *so* discouraged and extra nervous about try to texture the ceilings and walls of the new house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I got out to "the Farm" and M informed me that the tile guy will start on our kitchen Friday (which has now been changed to Monday, but that's still cool).&lt;br /&gt;And the cement guy will start framing my humongous porch on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEN - I mixed me up some mud, rolled it on the ceiling, took my little whisk broom and made me some swirls.  Yes ma'am - and they looked just darn near perfect.   I so wish I had taken pictures so I could show everyone what a swirling ceiling mama I am!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(No.  I am *not* being overly proud.  Ok - maybe a little)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I tried doing the texture on the walls and did a pretty decent job on THAT too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may have a whole new career future........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, a great end to a day that started out like poo.  In about 15 minutes I'm going to go see  how it looks now that it's dried and plot when to do the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Monday - oh Monday!  Monday the final steps before we move get started.  Because after they do the porches, they can re-brick the house!  And once the kitchen tile is done, and the house is textured and painted....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We can move!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(And does it make me a super geek to be excited to discover that &lt;a href="http://owlhaven.wordpress.com/"&gt;Owlhaven&lt;/a&gt; not only *read* my little blog, but even commented?  Granted - it was about our mutual admiration for &lt;a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/shannon/"&gt;Rocks in my Dryer,&lt;/a&gt; but still!  She's like - one of the *real* bloggers! I feel like one of the cool kids just walked by and said hi in junior high.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yup.  I'm a geek. Oh well.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-116855568542010855?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/116855568542010855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/01/and-this-is-post-in-which.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116855568542010855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116855568542010855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/01/and-this-is-post-in-which.html' title='And this is the post in which'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-116845003429858948</id><published>2007-01-10T11:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T09:07:28.095-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='House Updates'/><title type='text'>The Post In Which...</title><content type='html'>I gripe about how I have no desire to do anything at my job.  And just whine alot in general.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to love this job.  I really did.  And parts of me still do.  But I would much rather work on &lt;a href="http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/11/making-progress-and-kid-pride.html"&gt;the house.&lt;/a&gt;  I need to move.  I really really need to move.   My kids need to be in their own rooms and and I need a house large enough to put all my stuff and not have boxes everywhere so it won't seem like a disaster area anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I attempt to texture the ceilings.  I've decided to start with the old master bedroom/going to be M's office.  That way I have some practice on a ceiling that only M or I will see on a regular basis.  Grandma had pretty circular swirls on her ceilings - and I'm going to attempt to replicate them.  Apparently it's done with a straw broom.  When I decided to keep the ceilings as is, I thought those swirls were so pretty and unique.  Today - hours away from figuring out how to do them myself, I see them as a big ole pain in my rear area!  Wish me luck - I'm going to need it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing witty nor thoughtful or entertaining to blog about.  I'm entirely too busy stressing about work and the house.  Today is the first day of classes, I'm 2 months behind on reconciling my accounts, and instead of taking care of all those things, I'm blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah - that's me.  Ms. Responsible!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of it is my frustration with my new "advisor" person - who seems incapable of thinking for herself some days.  This morning, a faculty member didn't show up for class.  So said person came to me and asked *me* to find him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ummm - excuse me?  I'm YOUR boss.  You go find him, I have blogging to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;kidding!  really!   I was actually going through my to do list for the day)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But seriously.  She does seem to have a problem realizing that both she and the other clerical staff member work for me and she is *not* my equal.  I know - it's petty - but sheesh.   I can't run an office if one of the staff thinks she can tell me what to do.  Nope - Mysti don't play that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not the best way to start off my day.  Especially after my 13-yr-old came in this morning and said "Mom - why do all the clocks say 7:19?  Don't you usually get us up before then?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops.  So begins what is shaping up to be a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;stellar&lt;/span&gt; day.  Overslept an hour, the coke came out of the machine hot this morning, and now I've got a staff member with attitude.  Woohoo! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I know why I'm cranky.  I know exactly why I'm cranky.  I haven't had a smoke since Saturday night.  And while I didn't smoke all *that* much - just knowing that I'm not going to have one seems to be making me cranky.  Heaven help my boys and hubby - they don't even realize I've quit because I didn't want to make a big deal out of it - in case I change my mind again - and they probably think I've lost my ever lovin mind.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I just go home now?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-116845003429858948?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/116845003429858948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/01/post-in-which.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116845003429858948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116845003429858948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2007/01/post-in-which.html' title='The Post In Which...'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-116671307678337306</id><published>2006-12-21T08:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T08:57:56.796-06:00</updated><title type='text'>All that glitters...</title><content type='html'>My mama and I went on a marathon shopping session yesterday.  So marathon that my feet - that were clad in perfectly serviceable sneakers all day - are killing me to the point I hobbled around like an old granma this morning when I got up.  Ow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I did manage to get  my shopping done.  I have Christmas for everyone except my evil step-grandmother, and frankly, I just could not find anything tacky enough to give her.  I know I know - that makes me sound like such a horrible person.  But really - her taste is....just so out there.  She likes glittery.  Not cute glittery either.  Tacky, oh my what were they thinking when they made THAT glittery.  And oddly enough, even after spending 3  hours in a craft mall, I could not find anything THAT glittery.  Maybe there's something at Kmart.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still need to do some crafty type stuff to finish up presents.  I have to make the kids' cd wallets, and I'm so looking forward to doing the ones for my best friend's daughters.  I don't *have* any girls, so D's girls are as close as I get.  I can't wait to glue maribou trim and little pink sunglasses and write names in pink fabric paint!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah - I'm a dork.  But when you don't have daughters of your own, that sort of thing sounds FUN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also need to paint the hubby's box.  Since we decided to not buy Christmas for each other - because we're getting a HOUSE and new bedroom furniture - that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;matches! - &lt;/span&gt;we didn't see the point on trying to find time to buy for each other.  So I saw this great idea for a praise box on someone's blog.  I don't remember who - Owlhaven, Pastormac - someone.  You just write down on pieces of paper something you admire, like, love, etc about the person you are giving the box to.  I'm so very proud of how hard he has worked on the house project, so I thought this would be the perfect inexpensive gift for him.  He can spend the rest of the year getting a pick me up every time he gets discouraged.  I'm going to get the boys to write things too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;was &lt;/span&gt;going to get my folks to do it to - but he and Daddy had some kind of disagreement regarding the electrical work in the house, so I'm thinking maybe I'll skip that this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have to work today and tomorrow, so I'm not sure *when* I'll get to do my painting.  Maybe he'll work late tonight &amp; I can work on it before he gets home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HA!  I never thought I'd *want* him to work late the week before Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After hearing the good news about my mom-in-law being in remission, we found out earlier this week that my hubby's great uncle, who is godfather to our sons, has been diagnosed with leukemia.  So anyone that was praying for my mom-in-law, could you add Cooper to your list?  He's such a wonderful man - I can't imagine life without him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should quit rambling now - and go pick up my gifts from my hockey buds.  I had to miss lunch with them yesterday to go pick up the boys, then shop w/ my mom.  Woohoo!  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Presents!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-116671307678337306?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/116671307678337306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/12/all-that-glitters.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116671307678337306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116671307678337306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/12/all-that-glitters.html' title='All that glitters...'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-116654102273910650</id><published>2006-12-19T08:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T09:10:22.763-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Down the stretch</title><content type='html'>So - are YOU ready for Christmas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naw - me neither.    I did get  cd wallets for the guys in the family done last night.  So easy and cheap!  I found these perfectly adequate cd wallets at WalMart for $1.97 each, I then wrote names on them with fabric paint - took me all of 5 minutes to do 4 of them.  I've about decided to go back and get more for my hockey buds - I wanted to make them all earrings or bracelets, but we're supposed to have our Christmas lunch tomorrow and I &lt;s&gt;put it off forever what to get them &lt;/s&gt; don't have enough time!!!  I'm putting gift cards in them for the guys, so maybe I'll find a cute little something to put in them for my girls too.  I've got to run to Hobby Lobby today to get a gift card for my sis-in-law, so maybe I can find some little cute something for them too.  Mom's taken care of, mom-in-law is taken care of.  Since we decided with all the house stuff we just don't have time to do the normal &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;shopping for the most perfectest gift ever&lt;/span&gt; this year - everyone is getting gift cards.  They'll just have to understand.  Really.  Or if they don't, I guess they can hate me.  Either way.  I'll live.  At this point, I. Just. Don't. Care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized last night that I packed my bundt pan back in October when I thought I'd be moved by Christmas.  This would be no big deal except that I have to make grandmother's fresh apple cake and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I can't do that without a bundt pan!!!!  &lt;/span&gt;Yeah - I'm in a panic.  I've got to find a bundt pan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Score.   One of my hockey buds has one I can borrow.  Friends.  What would we do without them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still need to take the boys shopping for their dad, as well as take E shopping for his brother.  And of course, my big day shopping with my mom.  Although - she taunted me last night that she is going to KK's (the bestest ever craft mall here in town) today.  WITHOUT &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;That's just wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our family bible study is going so well.  We weren't able to do it one night because Monty was out with a customer, and E - my teenager! - told me he was disappointed, because, you know, he kinda looks forward to that every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moments like that give me hope.  And believe me.  When you have a 13 yr old - you need all the hope you can get!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-116654102273910650?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/116654102273910650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/12/down-stretch.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116654102273910650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116654102273910650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/12/down-stretch.html' title='Down the stretch'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-116619693205610392</id><published>2006-12-15T09:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-15T09:35:32.073-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Friday Rambling...</title><content type='html'>Oh man!                It's the &lt;a href="http://boomama.net/?p=641" target="_self"&gt;Bloggy Christmas Tour of Homes&lt;/a&gt;!  As I just told Jules, I'm not getting shit done today now....  Go!  Check it out!  Especially if you want to feel woefully inadequate in your home decorating skills.  Or just to steal ideas.  Either works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of homes, I realized the other day that the desk I had planned to put in the desk nook in the new house &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;won't fit.&lt;/span&gt;  I am bereft.  I had such plans for that desk....My cookbooks on the first shelf, doodads on the second, my laptop on the desk part, I'd be able to do my stuff there instead of trying to navigate Monty's disaster area desk...*sigh*  My tin collection and enamelled water pitchers were going to go on the top....Hmph.  Darn dinky desk nook.  So now I have to find another desk.  I wonder if my desk from high school is still over at mom's?  Of course, it's bright YELLOW, so it would have to be re-painted, but that's no big deal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooo!  Someone brought cookies!  Breakfast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll put Monty's desk in the "red room" (because it will have a red wall, and since it's not going to be a living room, or a dining room and I don't know WHAT we're going to do with that room, Red Room will have to do.).  With the piano.  And my dining table.  And my beautiful inlaid veneer chest of drawers.  And Monty's *current* desk.  Hmm....maybe I'll call it the "furniture I dont' know what to do with right now" room....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still trying to figure out where to put furniture in the front room.  It's particularly difficult because Monty is taking the spot I WAS going to use for my sectional for his flippin &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;wood burning stove.  &lt;/span&gt;Hmph.  So now I have to rearrange in my head where to put stuff in the living room.  (Living room, front room - maybe I'll just call that room the "glazed" room - since the wall color will be "glazed pears."  Think that would work?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, while I discussing having to go to a hundred places to pick out 6 squares of vinyl tile for the boys bathroom, I mentioned how much I like the tile we have in their bathroom now.  And Monty says, "have you checked to see how many we have left over in their towel cabinet?  Maybe we have enough."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://x.myspace.com/images/blog/smileys/blah.gif" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SCORE!  We have 5 tiles left over from when we did the boys bathroom 11 years ago.  I'm thinking that might just work - it's a small space, we may not need 6....Woohoo!  More time for other stuff Saturday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like, you know Christmas shopping.  Because I haven't done any.  Like - at all.  And Christmas is 10 days away.  Less if you figure in the fact that we'll most likely have our Christmas next weekend when all the parental units are in town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blyat!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-116619693205610392?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/116619693205610392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/12/some-friday-rambling.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116619693205610392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116619693205610392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/12/some-friday-rambling.html' title='Some Friday Rambling...'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-116602763097760166</id><published>2006-12-13T10:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-13T10:33:50.996-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Own Christmas Miracle</title><content type='html'>Back in September, we discovered that my mother-in-law had &lt;a href="http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/stage-iv.html"&gt;Stage IV non-Hodgkins lymphoma. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, after 4 months of chemo and antibody therapy, we found out she is in remission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are thrilled beyond measure.  To go from tumors in 4 different places to total remission - it can't be anything &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;but &lt;/span&gt;a miracle!  She has dealt with losing her hair, and feeling tired and weak, but it has all been worth it.  She &amp; Richard are coming down for Christmas, and while it will make my life infinitely more chaotic, we'll deal, because &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;she'll still be here.  &lt;/span&gt;And now we don't have to worry that it's her last Christmas or any of that junk.  God is so good to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have started having nightly Bible study at our house.  We just finished Ephesians, and started Matthew last night.  I am just having all of us ready several verses, then have the boys talk about what they have learned, or what they can take from what they've just read.  I'd love to say that it's turned everything around, but we've only been doing it a week or so.  I was so worried about the boys not know much about our faith, so this helps.  Everyone has their own Bibles, we all do our reading, and I think it will help us stay close.  As the boys turn into teenagers, I want to do everything I can to keep some part of their lives turned to the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house - oy veh.  We now have the house on its foundation.  Of course, we discovered that the guys doing the basement placed the opening for the stairs 12 inches off from where it was *supposed* to be - therefore the extra support underneath for the house footing was in the wrong place.  When M called the basement dude, he told him "oh - that's not bad. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excuse me?  When I have to worry about my house falling into my basement, that is *too* bad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now we have to put extra support beams in the basement so it doesn't fall in.   M was complaining last night that we have to go yet MORE lumber after framing in the garage doors (as that will be my new master suite) and framing in the basement, and building the well house.  I just told him to be glad we can afford to buy lumber.  The poor thing - he's getting so burnt out on all this work on the house....but we are so close now!  The electricity should get hooked up this week, the plumbing and water should be done this week, the septic system should be done this week.  We can start cleaning the inside as soon as I have some electricity to VACUUM!  And water to clean surfaces with.  As soon as the septic is done, we can get the porches poured.  As soon as THOSE are done, we can re-brick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean - it's almost done!  As of the 21st, we can repair sheetrock cracks and finish painting!  Then we can MOVE!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh hell.  And I'm not even *close* to being done packing......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must. Not. Panic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-116602763097760166?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/116602763097760166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/12/our-own-christmas-miracle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116602763097760166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116602763097760166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/12/our-own-christmas-miracle.html' title='Our Own Christmas Miracle'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-116524584276439485</id><published>2006-12-04T09:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T10:07:13.270-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Love Rocks In My Dryer</title><content type='html'>Several months ago, my husband sent me a link to a site called Hillbilly Housewife (which apparently is no longer at the link I had bookmarked, darnit).  I'm pretty sure it had something to do with &lt;s&gt;cheap&lt;/s&gt; inexpensive meals, because my darlin hubby is nothing if not &lt;s&gt;cheap&lt;/s&gt; thrifty.  That site led me to &lt;a href="http://www.boomama.net/"&gt;Boomama&lt;/a&gt; , which cracked me UP.  One day, while checking Boomama,  I clicked on the link for the &lt;a href="http://boomama.net/?p=376"&gt;Tour Of Homes&lt;/a&gt;, which led me to &lt;a href="http://www.rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/"&gt;Rocks in my Dryer&lt;/a&gt;.  And y'all - it changed my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.  Really.  I know - it sounds so &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dramatic, &lt;/span&gt;but if it weren't for &lt;a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/shannon/worksforme_wednesday/index.html"&gt;Rocks in my Dryer&lt;/a&gt; and the oh-so-fabulous Works for Me Wednesday, I wouldn't be frying my hamburger before I freeze it.  Or planning my menu for the week.  Or using my crockpot on a regular basis.  Or using &lt;a href="http://www.bloglines.com/myblogs"&gt;Bloglines. &lt;/a&gt; Or using Firefox.  Or reading a chapter of the Bible each day via &lt;a href="http://www.bibleplan.org/"&gt;Bibleplan.org.&lt;/a&gt;  It changed my LIFE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My house is cleaner.  My attitude is better.  We're eating better, and life is seriously less stressful, due to just little changes that I discovered on WFMW.  The wonderful folks who post their tips made &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt; life so much easier.  My husband keeps asking what happened to his wife.  Not that he's not tickled pink by the changes - he is.  He just has a hard time believing that it all came about because of the internet.  But it &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;did!  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I am so incredibly grateful for that one little email he sent me.  It makes me smile that God knew that it would lead me to those blogs, and all the other wonderful blogs that I've discovered through them.  I try to be a better mother now.  Not that I didn't try before, but I feel less like a failure now.  Reading the blogs of other moms that are struggling day by day, and yet still finding the  one wonderful moment out of 50 &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;oh-my-hell-why-the-heck-did-I-ever-think-I-wanted-ONE-child-much-less-TWO!&lt;/span&gt; moments....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It gives me hope.  And smiles.  And even though I'm a lurker, and rarely if ever comment, I hope that maybe some of those ladies might someday see this post, and know that they changed my life, as part of God's plan.  And I hope they realize just how valuable their posts, which I'm sure they think are silly or pointless, inspire a lot of us every day to keep trying and not give up and to remember to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Because they make *me* laugh every single day.  Or make me think.  So thank you ladies.  (And&lt;a href="http://www.kevincharnas.com/"&gt; Kevin&lt;/a&gt;. )  Y'all made my life better.   You truly are God's blessings.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-116524584276439485?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/116524584276439485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/12/why-i-love-rocks-in-my-dryer.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116524584276439485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116524584276439485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/12/why-i-love-rocks-in-my-dryer.html' title='Why I Love Rocks In My Dryer'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-116403979660607471</id><published>2006-11-20T10:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T10:25:31.756-06:00</updated><title type='text'>If you can't change one thing, then change another</title><content type='html'>Apparently the great delay in our move has bothered me so much that I decided that if I can't move, then I'll just change something else by golly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I cut 6 inches off my hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hair grows pretty quickly, but I've had it below my shoulders or longer for...well...forever.  I'm pretty sure the last time it was even close to this short was back in high school or shortly thereafter.  Proof of this was when I walked in with my new do, and my 13 yr old said "that's kinda....creepy looking Mom."  Gee.  Thanks.  My youngest said it was weird.  But they've never seen me with short hair, so I'm sure it does seem weird to them.  Luckily, everyone &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;else &lt;/span&gt;who have seen it like it just fine.  One lady even said it looked SASSY (which, of course, was just what I was going for.  After all - when you're 41 and tired of having the same do you wore in high school - sassy is the way to go!  No sense in looking old &amp; tired when you can prove that even while old -  you are still &lt;s&gt;hip&lt;/s&gt; &lt;s&gt; cool&lt;/s&gt; "with it," you know?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And y'all - it takes me all of 5 minutes to dry it.  FIVE MINUTES!!!  This is seriously saving me time in the mornings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the move, they finish the basement this week, and they are scheduled to set the house on it's foundation next week.  I am so ready.  I try to tell myself to be patient - even with the house being set next week, we still have to frame in where the garage doors were, put in the windows  for that room, put in the new HVAC system, get the septic system installed and hooked up, pour the porch and back patio and *then* - rebrick it.  That doesn't include fixing the sheet rock on the inside, repainting, putting tile down in the kitchen &amp;amp; utility room, and replacing the patio door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And THEN we can move!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.  It's gonna happen.  Finally.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-116403979660607471?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/116403979660607471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/11/if-you-cant-change-one-thing-then.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116403979660607471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116403979660607471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/11/if-you-cant-change-one-thing-then.html' title='If you can&apos;t change one thing, then change another'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-116361815838159871</id><published>2006-11-15T10:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T13:15:58.450-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Great Cookie Bake</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.cs.ttu.edu/%7Edigby/wfmwheadersmallchristmas_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.cs.ttu.edu/%7Edigby/wfmwheadersmallchristmas_1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my boys were small, I wanted to start a Christmas tradition that was all our own.  Since I had such fond memories of cooking with my mom as a kid, I thought that making Christmas cookies would be fun.  So - every year, we have the Great Cookie Bake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, when we started this tradition, Mama &amp; I would make the cookie dough from scratch.  But as the  boys got older, and our life got busier, we found that you can get just as yummy cookies in other, easier ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My *first* choice was always the cookie dough we have to buy from our kids during those school fundraisers.  I figure if I have to buy any, then by golly, I'm buying something I can USE!  So always consider the sugar cookie dough bucket, and the day before you bake cookies, just put it in the fridge, and voila - it's all ready to go the next day.  No muss, no fuss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year we don't have any cookie dough, because apparently small towns don't do 4 fund raisers like they do in the big city ;-).  So we're keeping an eye out for the Pillsbury cookie dough to go on sale (and use a coupon for it), and that should do us.  For last minute cookie bakes, don't hesitate to buy the pre-mixed packages either.  We tried that one year, and the cookies were great!  Just mix it up, chill a bit, then roll 'er out and you're good to go!  I dig out all of my cookie cutters and we have ourselves a grand ole time.  E &amp;amp; J still seem to enjoy decorating the cookies last year - we'll see if they're up to it this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any and all of these options &lt;a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/shannon/"&gt;work great for us!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-116361815838159871?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/116361815838159871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/11/great-cookie-bake.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116361815838159871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116361815838159871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/11/great-cookie-bake.html' title='The Great Cookie Bake'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-116343285058803418</id><published>2006-11-13T09:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T09:49:25.880-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Counting our Blessings....</title><content type='html'>Reading &lt;a href="http://toniwrites.blogspot.com/2006/11/worrying-happiness-vomit-and.html"&gt;this post&lt;/a&gt; this morning made me think I needed to do my own list of what I'm thankful for.  And I *really* need to do it because I realized this morning that the earliest I can move will probably be during Christmas BREAK!!!! and that just bums me out. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I'm thankful for the health of my children, my husband and myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I'm thankful that my mom-in-law is having so few negative side effects from her chemo.  She's mainly just tired.  And there's that whole losing her hair thing.  And did you know that they don't *just* lose the hair on their head?  Oh no.  They lose it *EVERYWHERE* - yes - there too.  Why my mom-in-law decided to share this with me, I'll never know, but as bad as it was for me, I think it's traumatized my poor hubby for life.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  I'm thankful for my job - which I truly do love as frustrated as I've been with it lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I'm grateful for my friends, who make me laugh on a daily basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  I'm thankful that my beloved Cotton Kings pulled out two home wins this weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  I'm thankful that we can afford to get someone to finish out the basement work on our house, because the hubby simply doesn't have the time.  And once the basement is done we can set the house!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  I'm thankful that I found the perfect tile for the kitchen last Friday and it's HALF the price of the original tile I wanted to buy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  I'm thankful for Ropesville schools - last week when J was sick, as I picked him up, he asked if he would be able to go back to school that day.  Because, you know, "school is pretty fun here."  After 3 years of him absolutely detesting school at Hardwick, this truly is a blessing from God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  I'm thankful that I can go to God when I get down and let go - and he *always* takes care of us.  (See item number 6 above).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  Now I'm thankful for this being number 10!  I need to be more thankful for stuff!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-116343285058803418?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/116343285058803418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/11/counting-our-blessings.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116343285058803418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116343285058803418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/11/counting-our-blessings.html' title='Counting our Blessings....'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-116299740985924536</id><published>2006-11-08T08:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T08:50:09.876-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Works for Me Wednesday</title><content type='html'>I'm gonna be brave and post something that makes my life easier.  If you haven't made of habit of checking &lt;a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/shannon/2006/11/works_for_me_ca.html"&gt;Shannon's Works for Me Wednesday&lt;/a&gt;, for pete's sake, what are you waiting for??  I LIVE for WFMW!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kids love homemade pizza.  My husband loves homemade pizza.  I love the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;price&lt;/span&gt; of homemade pizza.  And with both of us working, I tend to buy the package of pizza dough mix that you just add water, let it rise 5 minutes then roll it out on your pan.  The instructions say you  just "press the dough out with your fingers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh huh.  Unless you're *me* and you spend 30 minutes getting you hands covered in sticky dough and it looks like the most uneven splat of dough you've ever seen with it paper thin on one end and 3 inches thick on the other.  Using a rolling pin doesn't work because my rolling pin is too big for my pizza pan.  So instead of doing that, I just pull out my handy dandy jelly glass (you know - the glasses that you buy jelly in, then you soak off the label and voila!  Free glass the perfect size for iced tea!), flour it, and use it to roll out the dough.  It's quick, easy, and when I'm done, I just rinse it off, pop it in the dishwasher and that's the end of my cleanup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Works for me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-116299740985924536?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/116299740985924536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/11/works-for-me-wednesday.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116299740985924536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116299740985924536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/11/works-for-me-wednesday.html' title='Works for Me Wednesday'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-116291705965319799</id><published>2006-11-07T10:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-07T10:30:59.670-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Living in contentment</title><content type='html'>I saw this over on &lt;a href="http://boomama.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-would-like-to-announce-that-i-have.html"&gt;BooMama's blog&lt;/a&gt; this morning:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Lucida Sans;font-size:78%;color:#7b3900;"&gt;&lt;xi&gt;&lt;xb&gt;I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty.&lt;br /&gt;I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation,&lt;br /&gt;whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  &lt;/xb&gt;&lt;/xi&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Lucida Sans;font-size:78%;color:#7b3900;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Philippians 4:12&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was on her daily Biblepromise quote sidebar thingy.  And it just made me catch my breath.  Because that's how I try to live my life.  To be content with what I have now, and not spend my life longing for the 3 story mansion, or the Lexus SUV, or diamonds aplenty, or perfect kids, or the husband who always remembers to bring flowers for every little occasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I've know people who have that, and you know what?  They're not all that happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for all my trials with the house and work lately, at the center of it all, I'm &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;happy&lt;/span&gt;.  I'm happy that we will eventually be in this other home that housed my grandparents for 40-someodd years.  I'm happy that my kids are healthy, and doing well in school, and that they're happy with their new school.  I'm happy with my husband the majority of the time (after all - it *is* deer season), and I feel loved by so many - family and friends.  Life is good.  And it is beyond cool to find a Bible verse that describes *me* so perfectly - what I'd like to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because as you  know - I love it when God sends us those odd coincidences.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-116291705965319799?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/116291705965319799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/11/living-in-contentment.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116291705965319799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116291705965319799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/11/living-in-contentment.html' title='Living in contentment'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-116291226145209975</id><published>2006-11-07T08:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-07T09:18:31.506-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Making Progress, and Kid Pride</title><content type='html'>It's been forever since I blogged  here (I tend to blog more regularly over on that evil &lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog&amp;pop=1&amp;amp;ping=1&amp;indicate=1"&gt;Myspace&lt;/a&gt; ), but I thought it would be nice to have something here just in case anyone pops in.  Besides that, I've almost convinced myself to post something on &lt;a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/shannon/worksforme_wednesday/index.html"&gt;WFMW &lt;/a&gt;tomorrow.  Might as well have an update for anyone who happens to be like me - you know - reads the tip, then browses through the blog to see if it should be added to their bloglines.  (Surely I'm not the only one who does that?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo - first up - I must brag on my kids.  They had their first academic UIL competition yesterday, and they did so well!  J placed 2nd in Ready Writing, and E placed 1st in Math, Science &amp;amp; Spelling!  I'm one proud mama today.  It's just one more example of how wonderful Ropes has been for my kiddos.  Today they will go into school with a little more confidence.  And that just makes me smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house project is coming along slowly.  Ssssllllloooooowwwwlllllyyyy.  I don't know *why* I thought we'd be different.  I'd always heard that these types of projects take 3 times longer than you think.  I should have believed them.  Currently, the basement has been dug, the basement walls poured, cleaned off, and the floor should (*should*) be poured this week.  Hubby intends to order the ceiling joists for the basement today, and we're hoping (*hoping,* praying) that we'll get the ceiling done next week.  And maybe by then he will have decided how to do the floor in what was the garage, but will eventually be our master suite.  He can't decide - cement floors, or wood decking.  But he has to decide before the house is set.  (Did I mention that once the ceiling of the basement is done, we can SET THE HOUSE?????)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night, I re-drew the floor plan for the master bath because apparently the toilet has to be in the corner we were going to use for the tub/shower.  Now I have to figure out what to do with the vanity.  Apparently stock vanities only go up to 60".  Double sink vanities that size have minimal counter space, and I need counter space!  I'm a chick - I must have a place for my &lt;s&gt; crap&lt;/s&gt; stuff.  Husbands don't always understand the need for &lt;s&gt;crap&lt;/s&gt; stuff space.  I almost had him convinced that we didn't need double sinks, but then last night I was watching House Hunters and saw this bathroom, with a corner tub, that had &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;two&lt;/span&gt; vanities - one on each side of the tub.  Now &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;there's&lt;/span&gt; an idea!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also picked out the tile for the kitchen (Grandma had carpet, and I am &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; not a kitchen carpet kinda gal), which actually is almost exactly the same color and pattern as the counter tops.  Which boggles my mind, as those counter tops were put in back in 1964.  Now I just have to decide on paint colors.  I decided on a creamy white for the paneling, but decided against sage for the walls above it since Monty's office will be that color.  The boys are deciding on colors for their rooms as well.  Grandma always had white walls, but I'm in the mood for some color!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still packing a little at a time, but until we get the house set, I have boxes everywhere.  I'll be ready to get those out of the house as well.  Our current hope is to be moved by Christmas.  (Actually - I hope to be moving Thanksgiving weekend, but Christmas is probably more realistic.  *sigh*)  I just can't wait to not only be out of the house we've outgrown, but also to be out in the country.  It's so peaceful out there.  I had to go out to water the two willows we planted a couple of weeks ago, and you could hear the birds chirping....and the quiet. It's so very quiet.  All I could do is thank the good Lord for leading us to this place - and long for the day when I can go out on my front porch (you know - the one that will run the entire length of my house!?) or my back patio and just.....rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's not too much to want, is it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-116291226145209975?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/116291226145209975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/11/making-progress-and-kid-pride.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116291226145209975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/116291226145209975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/11/making-progress-and-kid-pride.html' title='Making Progress, and Kid Pride'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-115893885934253728</id><published>2006-09-22T10:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-22T10:27:39.353-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day by Day...</title><content type='html'>Oy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is hectic.  Ok  - it's not like this is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;news &lt;/span&gt;to anyone out there.  But to be perfectly honest, until here lately, my life was pretty stress free.  I had a well-trained office staff that kept things running smoothly, kids going to school close enough they could just ride a bus home, only had activities 3 times a week, and a home that while small, was still well maintained enough that I didn't have to do too much beyond the average cleaning and laundry once a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh have times changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have one new staff member that I'm trying to train, another staff member who is having complications from surgery at the end of August (and bless her heart, she has only been able to work maybe 6 days this month), and of course, this is our busiest time of year.  My kids are going to school 25 minutes away from our home currently, which means I have to take off work to go pick them up every day when my husband isn't able to (which is every day lately).  We are in the process of getting a house moved to 15 acres we just bought and we have a ton of stuff we need to do to both the new property and house, as well as to the one we are currently in now to get it ready to sell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew!  Add to that the kid's activities (E is in football, both are in band), and my mother-in-law being diagnosed with cancer and starting chemo last week, you've got the makings for a world of stress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But - except for the odd "Oh. My. Hell." moments - it hasn't been that bad.  When I'm stressed about taking off from work to go pick up my kids, I think "At least I'm blessed with a job where my boss doesn't mind me doing that - especially if I take my laptop home and make up the time after the kids go to bed so I don't have to burn vacation hours."  When I'm stressed because my husband is gone all the time either working his business or working on the new house, I think "At least he is being blessed with work - to pay off the huge loan we took out for this project.  And thank goodness he is able to do all of these things on the house so we don't have to spend extra money having someone else do them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just all seems to be working out.  Other than one week being at work by myself, I've had at least one other office person here with me, which keeps me from being overwhelmed with work.   My mom-in-law  has had virtually no side effects from her first round of chemo.   I have enough vacation time saved up to cover the hours I don't make up  working at home.  And I get to spend extra time with my kids in the afternoons that I normally don't have.  Plus I get to go to all of E's football games,  and hear them practice their new instruments (ok - so that's not always a plus - who knew that a trombone sounds like someone passing gas and that clarinets can make the most god-awful noise known to MAN?)  as they learn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take last Tuesday for instance - after picking up the boys and running over to the local convience store to get a snack (ok - the *only* store in town - that makes it convient, right?), we headed over to "the farm" as the hubby likes to call it - to check if they had started digging on the basement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had - they had dug one trench and left.  I guess that qualifies as starting though, right?  The well guy had also come out and finished up, so now we have water!  As we started to leave, I turned onto our main road and stopped dead.  I couldn't go anywhere because there was a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;house &lt;/span&gt;coming at me!  MY house!  We had heard the day before that they had finally gotten it up on beams, but we had no idea they were going to move it Tuesday.  So by the weirdest of coincidences, I got to see them move my house onto our property - which I wouldn't have seen if I hadn't had to take off from work to pick up the boys because Monty had to work to get that huge project under control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See?  Odd blessings all connected! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now our house is parked in what will someday be our driveway, and according to Monty, they have dug all four basement walls now, so he'll build some forms tomorrow and hopefully - they pour those walls Monday.   Let 'em cure a couple of days, then dig it out and pour the floor - then it's just putting the top on, call the foundation guy out to set the footings, then they can set the house!  Woohoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is good.  Stressful, but good.  And we are blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-115893885934253728?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/115893885934253728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/day-by-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/115893885934253728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/115893885934253728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/day-by-day.html' title='Day by Day...'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-115867760266067045</id><published>2006-09-19T09:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-19T09:56:21.306-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hangin in there</title><content type='html'>At long last - an update! Sorry folks (hahahaha - I think maybe three people might have seen this blog - I ought to get one of those sitemeters installed, huh?), but work is a nuthouse right now, I'm training the new chick, and my other office girl has been out sick alot, plus I'm having to take off at 3 pm every day to go pick up the kids. (The hubby has a project out of town, and since he's making the moola to pay for this house project, he doesn't need to take off work!). Someday things will return to normal. I hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo - we found out yesterday that the house is now up on beams!! Woohoo!! Step number 453 is now complete. Next is step 454 - the diggin' of the basement, which is to commence today. Now that it's stopped raining and dried out a bit. Y'all continue to pray that it doesn't rain in Ropes for the next two weeks (oh pfft - it's not gonna hurt the farmers - they've all got cotton in the fields out there and they need it hot &amp; dry right now too!), and maybe we'll get this thing done after all &amp;amp; I won't be moving during Thanksgiving!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E got to hear his name over the loudspeaker during his last game ("Making the tacke was number 55, E D") Of course, I was SUCH a mom - practically giddy with pride and delight and "didja hear that? They said his NAME!" Geez - I'm such a goof. But it *was* pretty cool. He thought so too. Bless his heart - it's tough being 3rd string in 6-man football. But he's trying, and he's still having fun, and I guess that's what matters. Now if he'd just quit being such a bully to his brother!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom-in-law had her first chemo last Friday, and so far hasn't had any ill effects. She's actually felt pretty good. Y'all keep praying for her if you could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night the hub and I discovered that *someone* had been looking at x-rated sites on our laptop. We knew it wasn't *us* - so that left our eldest. He and his little friend from Lubbock were on the laptop Saturday afternoon while I was working in the yard, so I'm guessing that's when they were "exploring." Tonight after schoool we are going to have a little talk about what &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; appropriate, and what is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not.  &lt;/span&gt;Just looking at the history list - that stuff looked gross. I'm no prude, but man. You try so hard to teach them right from wrong, but then they go off in another direction. :-\ If any of y'all have any good advice on how to convince a 13 yr old to not try and surf porn on the net, I'd love to hear it (and yes - we set up passwords on the laptop last night - we have one the desktop - just didn't think of the laptop, because it's always in the living room and it never &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;occurred &lt;/span&gt;to me that he'd be that brazen. Boys.) For the moment, he's going to be completely grounded from either computer for a month (unless it's school related) and when he *does* get to use it, it will only be with either me or his dad sitting next to him. He seriously broke a trust, in my opinion - he'll have to earn back the right to use the computer unattended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least when I was doing my Bible reading last night (which was about the same time my husband discovered that someone had been looking at that stuff), I was reading Leviticus, and found some scripture I can use to help make my point about defiling yourself, etc. Once again, God provides, eh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-115867760266067045?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/115867760266067045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/hangin-in-there.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/115867760266067045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/115867760266067045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/hangin-in-there.html' title='Hangin in there'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-115807259164513099</id><published>2006-09-12T09:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T09:49:51.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reaching out....</title><content type='html'>I just noticed that &lt;a href="http://juliesjoyfuljourney.blogspot.com/"&gt;Julie&lt;/a&gt; posted a comment on my 9/11 story.   When I went to check out her blog (because I'm just nosy that way - besides!  She noticed me!  It's only polite to return the favor), I found &lt;a href="http://juliesjoyfuljourney.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-determined-purpose-part-2.html"&gt;this post&lt;/a&gt; about getting closer to God.  Isn't it wild how when you're searching for something, God finds a way to lead you to just what you need?  Here I am, searching for someway to feel God in my life again, and here is a post on how to do that - to draw closer to Him.  Just what I needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love it when little things like that happen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my mother-in-law gets her catheter thingy put in so she can start her chemo on Friday.  The Hubs and I hate that neither of us can be up there with her today - both of us because of work.  But he's trying to get enough done at his current project so he can take off on Friday to be there for the chemo treatment.  If anyone is reading, please pray for her to stay strong, and for the procedure today to be as pain-free and without complications as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I wore that pantsuit yesterday.  Even the boots.  Only this time, I had a little USA flag pin on the lapel.   My feet were killing me by the end of the day, but I just told myself that my sore feet were nothing compared to what the families of the 9/11 victims were dealing with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;completely &lt;/span&gt;change the subject - one of my hockey friends just informed me that the New York Islanders signed Rick DiPietro to a 15 year, $67 million contract.  15 &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;years.  &lt;/span&gt;What are those people thinking????  I know goalies have longer careers than the average hockey player, but still - 15 YEARS?  It just boggles the mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had another inch of rain yesterday, so the house project continues to move oh so slowly along.  Boy - when the Lubbock mayor asked the citizens to pray for rain, did the Lord ever come through.  Wonder if I can get them to pray for an end to it for a month or so???  I'd really really like to get moved before hockey season starts.    Or gas goes back up.  Ropes continues to be a blessing to my kids - J is getting the best grades ever, and E is starting to make friends.  He really enjoyed playing in his first football game last Thursday.   They would probably be able to have more after-school interaction with their friends there if we didn't live in Lubbock still - that's a long way to drive for a playdate, eh?  Soon - just a few more weeks.  I continue to pack boxes, and am convinced that I have yet to make a real dent in the contents of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck.&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-115807259164513099?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/115807259164513099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/reaching-out.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/115807259164513099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/115807259164513099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/reaching-out.html' title='Reaching out....'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-115772605116481355</id><published>2006-09-08T08:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T09:56:53.320-05:00</updated><title type='text'>September 11 - what I remember</title><content type='html'>It's weird what you remember about events. I remember most clearly what I was wearing. It was my favorite pantsuit - when I put it on that morning, I remember admiring how well it fit me, and how it managed to make me look slimmer than I was. It was black, with coral trim on the lapels and coral buttons down the front. And I wore my black boots, the ones with the super high heels, because the pants were a little long for my little 5'3" legs, and the boots made the whole outfit perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How oddly appropriate that I wore black that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sitting in my office - on my computer, checking my message board and planning my day. One of my students came into my office and began the shattering of what I thought I knew about the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mysti - do we still have that TV?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure - it's in the file room - why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A plane just flew into the World Trade Center"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No s***?  How'd they not see that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that time - when he said plane - I thought a little prop plane. Because surely it was some inexperienced pilot that ran into the World Trade Center. And I had no idea what the day would bring - what kind of horror would be visited upon us as a nation that day. It was just a little ole plane, right? I figured maybe a few offices worth of damage. Tragic to be sure, but there was no way I could know what was coming. It was probably just a little prop plane. I mean hell - it never ever occured to me that it could have been an &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;airliner.&lt;/span&gt;  Those pilots know what they're doing, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did they ever. &gt;:&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we went to the back, turned on the TV and saw the billowing smoke. We marvelled over how someone could have missed seeing the building, then I went back to my desk and send an ICQ message to someone - Rog, Jen, I don't know. Someone. About the plane. Then I went back to check on the news coverage. And found Todd standing there staring at the TV in shock. Because another plane had hit the other tower. And as we stared at each other in dismay, we realized that maybe the first plane wasn't an accident. And maybe it wasn't a prop plane either. About that time, I pulled the TV out into the main office area. By now everyone knew what was going on. And we watched in horror at the billowing smoke, and heard Matt Lauer talk about people jumping, and the flames, and how the fire department was responding. Never &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dreaming &lt;/span&gt;what was coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the tower fell. And we watched in horror. Not knowing how many people were still inside the buildings. Amazed at how the tower fell straight down. Exclaiming to each other "Oh my God...oh my God." Then it hit me. Not only all the people in the buildings. But the paramedics. The firefighters. The policemen. And I bent over - in anguish, nauseated, physically nauseated at the loss of life, trying to control my tears, pacing back and forth between my office and the TV - unable to tear myself away, but hardly bearing to watch. Other faculty and students came out of their offices - as we watched replay after replay of thousands of people dying. Unable to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not &lt;/span&gt;watch.   And as we were watching another replay, Gopal (one of our professors) said something that made my heart stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is that the first tower?  Are you sure?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's the replay - they keep showing it over and over and...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No - look - there's not another tower there - the second tower just fell!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh God.  Not that one too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. That one too. And the horror ...well it refreshed itself. Seeing one tower full of people fall was bad enough - but BOTH of them? It was almost too much to bear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And through all of that - we never thought it was anything more than a couple of crazies. We knew it was on purpose - all you had to do was see the footage of the second plane flying into it's tower and there was no doubt it wasn't an accident. But a well coordinated attack on our country? Like the rest - it just never occurred to me. That day was full of assumptions I made based on the world I thought I knew. Not that I hadn't heard of Bin Laden. I actually had. A couple of years before I read a Reader's Digest article that was an interview with former president Clinton. Someone asked him what was the biggest threat to the US, and he replied "Osama Bin Laden." And elaborated. So I had heard of him. I had read about him. I knew he was a fanatic. But it just never occurred to me that he'd plan THIS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then someone on the news said that a plane had flown into the Pentagon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I said outloud, "That's it.  Oh my God, we're at war."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we were. And I finally learned what the phrase "and her blood chilled" felt like. It wasn't a fun feeling. I thought of my husband, my kids...where they were, what they were doing, were they safe? Would they stay safe? Were planes about to come raining down all over the country? I know I'm in Podunk, TX, but Pantex is just a couple of hours up the interstate....all these thoughts raced through my head, as I watched everyone run, listened to the folks on TV say what all of us were thinking, saw the people with the gray faces and the shock on their faces... and I continued to pace. I could hardly sit down. I'd sit at my computer, post another message on my hockey board, then it was back to the TV. I'd try to work, but I couldn't. How could I concentrate on accounts when the world was falling apart around me? When we were &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;under attack!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the TV saying that all planes had been grounded. And hearing about the flight that went down in Pennsylvania. And I watched TV. And paced - in my high heeled boots. In my favorite black pantsuit. And all I wanted to do was go pick up my children and hug them and take them home. Where they'd be with me and safe. And when 5 o'clock finally got here, I left work - and went to pick up my children. And nearly ran into the after-school program and hugged them. I realized that while they knew something had happened today, they didn't seem to realize just how drastically our world had changed. When we got home, we sent them off to watch movies in another room, and Monty and I watched TV some more. Heard the story of someone who had ridden the debris down and survived - then the retraction when it was proven wrong. Hoped they'd find survivors - and felt the overwhelming sorrow when everyone started to realize that there just weren't many. Watched them try to dig through the debris to find survivors - and watched them run when someone thought there might be a shift of the wreckage - or another building came down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And listened. You could still hear them. It's a sound that I'd never heard before 9/11. And when I hear it now, it still sends chills down my spine. Granted, I only hear it when watching &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Rescue Me&lt;/span&gt;, but the sound of the alarms - the ones that the firefighters wear that only go off when they're motionless......hundreds of them.....once I knew what they were, what the sound was, and why they were blaring....how much Lord? How much can we all bear? Those were the thoughts in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stayed up too late watching the cable news channels. Trying to accept?adjust? to what I was seeing. And got up the next morning, and turned the TV back on. Went to work, and had the TV on...hoping that they'd find more survivors. And in the background....my ears adjusted to the fact that there were no more planes in the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several days later, I sat in my office and heard fighter jets go over our campus. (We had an airforce base just outside of town most of my life - Reese is closed as a military base now, but I know the sound of a fighter when I hear one) Never before had that sound scared me. It did that day. And to this day - when hear a low flying jet, I tense up. I've flown once since that day. I didn't like it much. But I did it. Because no stinkin terrorists were going to stop me from living my life as I see fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I don't wear that pantsuit very often. I still have it. But every time I put it on, it doesn't seem to fit anymore. And not just because I've gained a few pounds in the last 5 years. Rather - the person that wore that pantsuit on the morning of 9/11/01 isn't the same one that tries it on now. But I still have it. And the boots. And everytime I look at them, I remember. Because this Redneck Texan will &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;never &lt;/span&gt;forget that day.  And how it changed everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rocks In My Dryer&lt;/a&gt; is hosting an I Remember 9/11 day at their site. While I've yet to figure out how to add the graphic, please drop by and share YOUR memories of that day. So no one forgets those who died that day. Just for going into the office, or getting on a plane.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-115772605116481355?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/115772605116481355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/september-11-what-i-remember.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/115772605116481355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/115772605116481355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/september-11-what-i-remember.html' title='September 11 - what I remember'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-115765777981660569</id><published>2006-09-07T14:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T14:36:19.870-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stage IV</title><content type='html'>That's what stage my mom-in-law's cancer is in.  Her official diagnosis is Stage IV Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma.  She gets a stent next Tuesday, then starts her chemo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know the abbreviation for Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma is NHL.  Just like my favorite sport.  Life is weird.  And this whole thing has me slightly freaked, so forgive me if I seem sporadic for awhile.  I'm really trying to concentrate for work, but I knew if I didn't get this down, it would just run through my head over and over and  I'd never be able to get on with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It?  Why the business of life, of course.  Of cupporting my husband, and being a positive influence for him while he deals with his mama having cancer.  Maybe this is why I've felt the need to work on my faith lately.  Because God knew this was coming, and knew I'd need Him - as usual.  And my hubby will need Him as well.  It's hard, as we're 4 hours away from my mom-in-law, and 2 hours away from where she'll get treatment, and I work full time, and the boys are in school...but we'll find someway to make sure she is taken care of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight is E's first football game.  I was really really looking forward to it before we got the news about MIL.  Now I'm just really looking forward to it.  I enjoy football - and this will probably be the first community activity I've gone to in Ropes, our soon to be new home.  I'm hoping I'll have a chance to meet some of our neighbors, maybe see my cousin's wife, and taking plenty of pictures of E's first game.  Hopefully he'll get some playing time.  And hopefully - it'll help ground us all - since right now I feel like everything just shifted under us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-115765777981660569?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/115765777981660569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/stage-iv.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/115765777981660569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/115765777981660569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/stage-iv.html' title='Stage IV'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-115756865275860220</id><published>2006-09-06T13:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T13:50:54.100-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding my way back....</title><content type='html'>One of the things I've enjoyed most since discovering &lt;a href="http://whitetrashmom.blogspot.com/"&gt;White Trash Mom  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and &lt;a href="http://www.rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/"&gt;Rocks In My Dryer&lt;/a&gt;,  is reading the words of women who are moms (like me) and strong in their faith (not so much like me).  I feel like my faith is strong, but I've drifted away.  I love God - but I don't glorify him in my daily life like I feel I should.  And reading the words of the women who participate in &lt;a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/shannon/worksforme_wednesday/index.html"&gt;What Works for Me Wednesday&lt;/a&gt; on a regular basis, I feel...well - like I'm really missing something in my life.  And it sorta inspires me to try to find my way back to that.  To once again read my Bible every day.  To actually study God's word and find ways to apply it to my life - and my family.  And it makes me think.  Boy does it ever!  Try reading the &lt;a href="http://www.everydaymommy.net/everyday-mommy/2006/9/5/moms-for-modesty.html"&gt;Mom's for Modesty&lt;/a&gt; stuff - if that doesn't really get you thinking, nothing will.  I have boys and it made me really think twice - about whether to allow them to wear tshirts with smart alec sayings on them, how I should teach them to react when they see a girl dressed immodestly, stuff that frankly, I hadn't really thought about.  Is it any wonder that my boys have a problem being respectful when I let them wear - and buy them - tshirts with smarta** comments?  Duh.  No wonder, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm going to try more.  To think more about what I teach my boys.  To think more how I live my life on a daily basis.  To see if I can glorify God as I go about my daily living.  Or at least do better than I've been doing.  And see if it changes me from the person I think I am - and how I'll deal with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't hurt, right?  And it's got to help my boys in the long run.  And that's what it's really all about - raising my boys right.  And heaven knows God has shown himself to be there for me whenever I've needed him.  When we were at our wits end trying to figure out where we were going to find brick, what did I do?  I let go and let God.  And he not only led us to a place that treated us as human beings - but also provided that the brick we picked out for the house be &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;in stock!  &lt;/span&gt;Do you know how rare that is now with the entire nation in the midst of a building boom?  Trust me.  VERY rare.  See?  God provides.  And if he can be there for me, I should try harder to be there for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's my plan.  Which is all well and good sitting here at my computer at lunch.  We'll see how it holds up when I have to listen to my 11 yr old and 13 yr old fight about who'd turn it is to pick a show.  (Wait a minute - E doesn't get to watch TV tonight after the remote fight last night...heh heh heh.  Mama gets to watch tennis!  Woohoo!)  Y'all pray for me, ya hear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And go check out WFMW - I've started planning my lunch hours on Wednesday around going through those links.  I always find something I can use!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-115756865275860220?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/115756865275860220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/finding-my-way-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/115756865275860220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/115756865275860220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/finding-my-way-back.html' title='Finding my way back....'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-115746646557062530</id><published>2006-09-05T09:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T10:02:54.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Raindrops keep fallin on my head...</title><content type='html'>Ok - so *today* they have finally stopped. After raining 4 1/2 inches this fine Labor Day weekend. I cannot even imagine how saturated our land must be. No way to get any work done on that this week. Our only hope is that it dries out this week and maybe we can get the basement done next week. *sigh* I'm thinking my hope of moving the last week of September is a little optimistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J brought home his trumpet this weekend. He looks so cute trying to play it. I tried to be all supportive, even though every time he blows into it, it sounds like nothing more than his dad passing gas. I'm sure eventually it will sound like wonderful musical notes. Maybe. I even had him play it for his grandparents, who are in town this week. We all made a fuss, and then E, my eldest, proceeded to turn into the pesterwart from hell. Sibling rivalry indeed. Bet E brings his clarinet home tonight.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today J turns 11. I can barely believe that I'm old enough for an 11 yr old, much less my 13 yr old. How'd *that* happen? He wants nothing more than home made pizza for supper tonight. So I guess that's what we're having - I'll have to stop on the way home and pick up a cake. (Hey! I work full time! Besides that - I'm not the best baker in the world. Trust me - he'll enjoy a WalMart cake much more than anything *I'd* make. Actually - I think he was hoping for a cookie cake.....even better!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pray that I make it through another week at work - my receptionist is supposed to come back tomorrow, and my other staff person will start late next week. So there is an end in sight to being here by myself. Hey - maybe I'll actually get caught up before Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think that's all the rambling I have!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-115746646557062530?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/115746646557062530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/raindrops-keep-fallin-on-my-head.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/115746646557062530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/115746646557062530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/raindrops-keep-fallin-on-my-head.html' title='Raindrops keep fallin on my head...'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33703629.post-115712114807705431</id><published>2006-09-01T09:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T09:32:28.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And so it begins....</title><content type='html'>Ok - we're not really moving to Hicksville, TX.  It's Ropesville, Tx, thank you very much, and we really *are* excited about it.  My husband has always wanted to live in the country, and I've always wanted my boys to go to school in a small town, so that's what we're gonna do!  I've already seen how it's affecting my boys, even though we haven't moved out there yet.  (We're moving my grandparent's home to some land we bought, and well - THAT is a whole nother blog by itself)  I've seen my eldest start to regain some of the confidence he lost being bullied at his school here in town, and my youngest actually doesn't hate school with the blind passion he's exhibited for the last 4 years.  That in itself is a blessing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also looking forward to being a part of a smaller community.  Of course, it may take a while before the locals really accept us "big city types."  I'm hoping that having family out there already will help some.  And it turns out that a girl I went to high school with, has also moved *her* family out there.  Our oldest children were actually in the same daycare when they were little.  How's *that* for a weird coincidence?  So maybe that will help.  Once we get moved, we'll be able to visit the churches (hey - this is west Texas - EVERY town of 500 has at least 3 churches - Baptist, Methodist &amp; Catholic.  Although I hear tell Ropes actually has 4 - but only because they're down to one Church of Christ church now.)  and hopefully get back to going regularly.  I've really missed that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up going to church - every Sunday morning, every Sunday night, every Wednesday night.  And it just feels weird when we aren't going.  Oh - it's *easier* - without a doubt.  But weird.  And I worry about the boys not having that foundation.  We found a church we really liked in Lubbock - but it was across town - and while 20 minutes may not seem like a long drive to you REALLY big city types, it was such a major ordeal to get everyone up and ready and over there in time for church...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who am I kidding?  We got lazy.  There' s no excuse.  We should be going and we're not.  I can say it's a long drive, or that I'm not up to getting the boys up and ready and over there by myself during hunting season or whatever.  It's still just me taking the easy way out.  It's so easy to get caught up in secular life in town - I'm hoping being out in the country will help us *all* to get closer to God.  Focus less outside our family and more on it.  We can hope. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow - this is turning out to be alot longer than I planned.  Not that anyone knows it's here - but if anyone happens across my little corner of the net, hi!  Welcome!  And for pete's sake - comment so I feel loved and noticed ;-)!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33703629-115712114807705431?l=lihtx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/feeds/115712114807705431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/and-so-it-begins.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/115712114807705431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33703629/posts/default/115712114807705431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lihtx.blogspot.com/2006/09/and-so-it-begins.html' title='And so it begins....'/><author><name>Mysit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03298292240186357514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
