<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374</id><updated>2009-11-11T18:42:49.722-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A view from the middle . . .</title><subtitle type='html'>. . . thoughts from a "middle aged person" (am I really going to live to 100?) . . . with middle of the road political views (haha) I'm actually more in the left lane, swimming in the middle lane (neither fast, nor slow) . . . just random ideas as I have time to jot them down.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>155</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-8857331785948685534</id><published>2009-09-30T22:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T22:37:25.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>apologies and more to come. . .</title><content type='html'>my goodness my blogging license should be revoked, I've been so "absent" these past 6 months or more.&lt;br /&gt;I finished my triathlon on Saturday with a respectable, yet not too impressive time.  Kyle was there and took no less than 80 pictures of me!  Tomorrow he promises to download software onto my computer which will allow conversion of these gems to jpeg which is a much more publishing friendly extension.&lt;br /&gt;till then I'll give you a little narrative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night after work I had a quick bite (Randy was in Tahoe so it was a night alone) and then decided to get totally organized.  Kyle had lifted my bike into the Expedition the night before so all I had to do was collect all my other gear.  Swim cap and goggles, bike shoes, helmet, teeshirt and number, sunglasses and running shoes- hat if I could find one to fit my enormous head.  It took a little time but before long all was collected and bagged along with towels, a footwash basin, water etc.  In my nervous nellie phase I put the key in the ignition to "make sure" the car would start . . . don't you know, it didn't!  SWEAR WORD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture this now-  Randy is in Tahoe, Kyle is out and what am I to do?  I have a portable charger for just this occasion.  Hooked it up (using a flash light because by now it is totally dark) and , drum roll please, this is dead too!  Now, do I try to jump the Exped using my little Miata and possibly draining that battery?  HELL NO.&lt;br /&gt;Instead I move everything over to the Miata.  How does my bike fit?  Top down and crammed into the seat with the wheel sticking up in the back, that's how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to bed .  . . lots of very bad dreams about how the race will go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up and at em (sort of) at 5:45 am. (prime sleeping time) and on the road by 6:00am.  Kristi and I arrive within moments of each other and we are off to find a perfect staging area.  Time evaporates and before we know it, it's time to line up to begin the swim wave.  I stick to the front/center of the pack knowing I can stay ahead of the crew behind me.  Into the water (murky,dirty and full of fowl feces) we run and off we go.  Now, swimming SHOULD be my strongest leg-  for the first time ever I have a mild panic attack.  I can't breathe, there are people ALL AROUND me, oh dear.  I sprint out a little, flip on my back and swim 90% of the event on my back!  Despite my unorthodox approach my swim time is slightly faster than last year.  Out of the pond, a quick shoe and shirt application and off we go on the bike segment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops . . . I forgot to make sure the bike was in the lowest gear before I took off.  The bike portion begins with freakin hill that I cant get up.  I'm starting to get nervous when Kyle runs up and helps me gear down.  Okay, I wasted a couple of minutes there.  The first 1/3 of the ride was uneventful- then my chain came off.  Calmly I stop, fix and restart.  About the 2/3 mark it happens again.  DAMN I'm losing time on the bike instead of gaining as I had hoped!  Back to the park, sneakers on- off to the run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran the WHOLE run this time, excepting two hills I walked up, each about 25 yards.  So, why is my run time SLOWER than last year?  My guess is that I didn't complete the whole run last year as one loop was totally new to me this year!  Regardless I only added about one minute (which isn't bad as I also added about .25-.50 miles! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My overall time was 45 seconds faster than last year. &lt;br /&gt;Next year, I'm going to make that even better . . . just wish I didn't have to wait until next September to give this a go again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pictures will follow, just wanted you to know how it went!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-8857331785948685534?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8857331785948685534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=8857331785948685534' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/8857331785948685534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/8857331785948685534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/09/apologies-and-more-to-come.html' title='apologies and more to come. . .'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-4568718089447786540</id><published>2009-09-04T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T10:53:35.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Julia Child . . . rockstar!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SqFRpemwvxI/AAAAAAAAApA/TG-PLnMQaco/s1600-h/julia-child.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377669203089211154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 195px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 209px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SqFRpemwvxI/AAAAAAAAApA/TG-PLnMQaco/s320/julia-child.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My book club recently decided to read two books.  First, Julia Child's own book "My Life in France" which chronicles Julia's time, post world war 2, in France and Germany.  Secondly we read "Julie and Julia" a book by Julie Powell written to describe her journey cooking her way through Julia's first cook book, "Mastering the Art of French cooking".&lt;br /&gt;After we finished both books we went on a field trip to see the new movie Julia and Julie . . . Meryl &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Streep&lt;/span&gt; does a dead on Julia Child by the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie (and books) made me desperately want to do some Julia Child style cooking.  (Butter and Cream heavy).  Yesterday I did just that.  Julia's chicken with mushroom cream sauce.  All I can say it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;yummmmmmm&lt;/span&gt;.  Mind you, as a weight watcher member I had to significantly decrease my portion of sauce, but what I had . . . OH MY GOODNESS. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our dinner was this:  Chicken with mushroom cream sauce over roasted red potatoes.  Grilled beets and asparagus, fresh chopped tomatoes/onions/garlic in an olive oil vinaigrette over baby greens.  Julia invented the entree'  I made up the rest. &lt;br /&gt;I'm getting hungry just typing this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ordered the book today, (Mastering the art of french cooking) and look forward to adapting recipes in the future to make them a little "skinnier".  Next on my list of must makes, Beef Bourguignon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;till then, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bon&lt;/span&gt; appetite'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-4568718089447786540?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4568718089447786540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=4568718089447786540' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/4568718089447786540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/4568718089447786540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/09/julia-child-rockstar.html' title='Julia Child . . . rockstar!'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SqFRpemwvxI/AAAAAAAAApA/TG-PLnMQaco/s72-c/julia-child.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-973589589252415877</id><published>2009-08-22T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T09:48:09.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the fifteen minute rule . . .</title><content type='html'>I don't know exactly how or when it happened but I've had this fifteen minute window of time engrained into my psyche.  I was raised in a home where being fifteen minutes early for an appointment or meeting meant you were on time. &lt;br /&gt;I consequently passed this on to my kids.&lt;br /&gt;I can honestly say, we are very seldom late for anything.&lt;br /&gt;I am a precision German instrument in that respect.&lt;br /&gt;I can quite accurately gauge how long it will take me to reach my destination and, with my fifteen minute cushion, tardiness is seldom an issue.&lt;br /&gt;Why doesn't the rest of the population run like this?&lt;br /&gt;My first appointment today-  VERY LATE.&lt;br /&gt;Second- SAME&lt;br /&gt;so, what does this do to the rest of the day?&lt;br /&gt;How do I face the patient who actually runs on time but has to wait due to the inconsiderate behavior of those who came before?&lt;br /&gt;Moral of this rant . . . If you are waiting in the lobby for an appointment, frustrated that your MD  or whatever is running late- it may not be their fault, but the accumulated fault of those who came before you and gummed up the day!&lt;br /&gt;If you run on time- ALWAYS make your appointment FIRST thing in the morning, or FIRST after return from lunch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-973589589252415877?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/973589589252415877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=973589589252415877' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/973589589252415877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/973589589252415877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/08/fifteen-minute-rule.html' title='the fifteen minute rule . . .'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-7808466616073384248</id><published>2009-08-21T10:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T10:52:45.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whispering, a learned skill . . .</title><content type='html'>Last weekend Randy and I had a quick getaway to Reno.&lt;br /&gt;The drive was pleasant, the weather lovely.&lt;br /&gt;Randy had a great time playing in the casino and I caught up on reading, movie watching and working out in the gym.&lt;br /&gt;We had tickets to the new stadium where the AAA Diamondback team plays in Reno.&lt;br /&gt;Included in our package was seating and food in a giant luxury box.&lt;br /&gt;As we stood in line getting ready to enter the stadium a pair of local ladies stood behind us.&lt;br /&gt;Lady one kept pointing at me (mind you I was about 2' away from her) and saying (loudly) "that is the kind of hair cut I want, sort of short, but not diky".  She repeated this several times, each time with the "dike" reference.&lt;br /&gt;I was patient for a bit, and then thought I would have a bit of fun with her.&lt;br /&gt;I turned around, smiled sweetly and said, "thank you for complimenting my hair, but you should know, I am a dike"&lt;br /&gt;I thought she was going to die on the spot&lt;br /&gt;Her friend kept saying "oh my God, oh my God, oh my God"&lt;br /&gt;It was terribly fun.&lt;br /&gt;After about 20 seconds I told her to relax, I wasn't a "dike" but she should watch the volume a bit.  My phone rang and I started a conversation with Ashley- Randy called Kyle and we passed the next few minutes engaged in our separate phone conversations.&lt;br /&gt;As I hung up I heard her again, "now, see that lady over there, I thought she was a guy- that is diky hair"&lt;br /&gt;Clearly, this lady had not learned her lesson.&lt;br /&gt;I turned around, looked her in the eye and told her "she can hear you".&lt;br /&gt;Lady number two went back to the "OHMYGOD" refrain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny part of this whole story . . . I wish I had a picture of this woman who so desperately didn't want to look like a "dike"&lt;br /&gt;overweight, no makeup or styled hair,  mans flannel shirt, shabby jeans and old tennis shoes.&lt;br /&gt;I think the ship had already sailed . . . she looked the part already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-7808466616073384248?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7808466616073384248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=7808466616073384248' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/7808466616073384248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/7808466616073384248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/08/whispering-learned-skill.html' title='Whispering, a learned skill . . .'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-4503552274217991480</id><published>2009-07-17T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T22:59:23.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost . . . and found</title><content type='html'>as with many good intentions . . .my ability to "keep up" with my blog has been dismal.&lt;br /&gt;I think about this daily- I have brilliant ideas to share (okay, maybe not brilliant, but ideas to be sure) but then the day concludes and still no post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't nag Ashley about her lack of posting if I'm also negligent, can I?  and, let's face it, we would MUCH rather be hearing from Ashley than me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so this will be short- but sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've lost (to date) 24#&lt;br /&gt;I've found the ability to wear my wedding ring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've lost my insecurity in my workout 2 piece&lt;br /&gt;I've found (besides a great belly tan) more confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've lost (or rather put aside) some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Capri&lt;/span&gt; pants that fall off when I wear them.&lt;br /&gt;I've found my clavicle.  (collar bone which was hidden by a bit of FAT)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go on, but you get the picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have a ways to go- but I'm firmly on the right track.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, i can badger Ashley without guilt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've "found" the ability to badger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-4503552274217991480?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4503552274217991480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=4503552274217991480' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/4503552274217991480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/4503552274217991480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/07/lost-and-found.html' title='Lost . . . and found'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-7376797076666811635</id><published>2009-06-24T22:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T23:04:37.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love my Czech friend . . .</title><content type='html'>do you remember quite a while ago when I mentioned that my lovely Czech friend was the one who told me "you have a beautiful color . . ." in reference to my unwanted tan?&lt;br /&gt;Well, today she struck again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In mid April I finally decided to join weight watchers.  I'm not sure what my final motivation was, and it really doesn't matter . . . regardless, I've been faithful and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;thus far&lt;/span&gt; have lost 21.8 pounds.  I still have a bit to go, but so far, so good.  My blood pressure is fantastic, lipid levels fantastic, glucose great . . . HEALTHY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past several weeks I've heard many different things.  First it was, "did you get a new haircut?"  second "you look so tan"  third, and this the most ridiculous "you look taller".  But today, my lovely friend Helena (of you have beautiful color fame) said to me . . ."you look fantastic, you have lost weight"   I could have kissed her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hasn't been hard.  No sacrifices at all.  Healthy eating and healthy results.&lt;br /&gt;I really don't want to become one of those "come to Jesus" ladies extolling the value of weight watchers but . . .  I'm off all prescriptive &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt; now and I'm feeling healthy.  Appearance isn't a goal, it's a side affect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-7376797076666811635?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7376797076666811635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=7376797076666811635' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/7376797076666811635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/7376797076666811635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/06/love-my-czech-friend.html' title='Love my Czech friend . . .'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-121944578598809769</id><published>2009-05-27T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T09:31:00.479-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday, what's on my mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/Sh4dj5dvmhI/AAAAAAAAAoo/CbP0sg69L_8/s1600-h/pedi+pics.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 122px; height: 122px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/Sh4dj5dvmhI/AAAAAAAAAoo/CbP0sg69L_8/s320/pedi+pics.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340738710666189330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a couple of things on my mind this evening and I'll start with the easiest.  Do you remember just a bit ago my complaining about having "pediatric illnesses"?  Well, again, I've been struck with the problems of a typical two year old.  Over the weekend, while Travis was home, I started feeling quite punk.  My head hurt- my ear hurt- I was nauseated and dizzy.  When I swam I was shaky and tired.  Yesterday I felt so crummy I didn't even go out for my regular swim . . . that was when Randy knew for sure something was wrong.  (that, and I looked like shit)  Regardless- I went to work today feeling crummy.  I went downstairs to visit with my friend Marcie- to commiserate with her after yesterday's supreme court decision (her marriage stands)  anyhow . . . during our visit she commented that with all due respect, "you look terrible"  I told her my pain problems and she looked into my ear-  Yupp, as expected.  Left ear is infected with a ruptured ear drum.  So upstairs I run to make an appointment to be seen by a "grown up" MD.  I made an appointment and then found my manager to explain the situation.  "you can leave early, but why no have one of our pedi's examine and treat you?"  Since I didn't want to get Marcie in trouble I agreed to her plan and the chief of the department examined me-  Yupp same as before.  Now I have one week of oral antibiotics to take, and a nice ear drop that numbs the pain-  Tomorrow I'm hoping to feel much better.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/Sh4hF3VzhLI/AAAAAAAAAow/AJHqCqvFN4I/s1600-h/weight+loss.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/Sh4hF3VzhLI/AAAAAAAAAow/AJHqCqvFN4I/s320/weight+loss.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340742592746456242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, I have something to keep me feeling a bit better.&lt;br /&gt;Remember before I told you about my Czech friends who comment on my "beautiful coloring" and now whenever someone tells me "you are really tan" in that snarky tone I substitute (in my mind) "you have beautiful coloring"?  I have a new such thing going on.&lt;br /&gt;THREE time today I got complements on my new hair cut and or hair style.  THREE times, three different people.  Strange, because I haven't done a single thing different with my hair.&lt;br /&gt;Here is the rub.  I've been diligently "working the program" of weight watchers for the past 7 weeks.  So far I've lost 14 pounds (one stone in the British measurement system) and not one SINGLE person has noticed.  I've been around people who haven't noticed, but don't see me frequently-  and, I have to say, it's been a little discouraging.  Well today I realized, they don't know what is different, it MUST be my hair.  Finally, to one of my work friends I said, "nope, my hair is exactly the same, there is just a little less of me"  She looked at me and then said "okay, yes, that's it"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the pool one of my friends Carl says, "I like your hair, it's different, isn't it?"&lt;br /&gt;to him I replied "Carl, when do you see my hair?  it's always in a cap!"  He said,  "I don't know, your hair just looks different"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't tell him what was really going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, from now on-  you say "you are so tan"  I hear "You have beautiful coloring"&lt;br /&gt;you say, "Did you do something new with your hair?" I hear, "Damn you look fine with that weight loss"&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/Sh4ir6Yei4I/AAAAAAAAAo4/Pcms1rlXQ_s/s1600-h/stones.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 149px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/Sh4ir6Yei4I/AAAAAAAAAo4/Pcms1rlXQ_s/s320/stones.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340744345909627778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, one stone down- two more to drop&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-121944578598809769?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/121944578598809769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=121944578598809769' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/121944578598809769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/121944578598809769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/05/wednesday-whats-on-my-mind.html' title='Wednesday, what&apos;s on my mind'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/Sh4dj5dvmhI/AAAAAAAAAoo/CbP0sg69L_8/s72-c/pedi+pics.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-2850000911673775056</id><published>2009-05-20T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T22:56:53.317-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lesson learned last year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/ShTrlA19NjI/AAAAAAAAAog/dfqGJD8-svA/s1600-h/triathlon+suit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 261px; height: 294px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/ShTrlA19NjI/AAAAAAAAAog/dfqGJD8-svA/s320/triathlon+suit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338150479454877234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;If you remember the tale of last years triathlon you will recall the enormous transition times I endured trying to get the appropriate gear on for each leg of the race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went totally old school- one piece bathing suit for the swim, donning a tank top and bike shorts for the cycling and then just changing into sneakers for the run.  Of course  fretting about going to the bathroom between legs didn't help either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I decided I was going to shave at least 5 minutes off of last years time in transition only.  I'm also hoping to shave another 5 minutes off in the course of the three events.  Step one, which I have easy control over, change my "outfit" for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consequently I ordered (and have received) a "tri suit"  this one piece wonder will take me from swim to run with no changing.  My only obligation will be to change into appropriate footwear.  This year I'll forgo all the bathroom fussing as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, in anticipation of "tri season"  I'm beginning my cross training in June determined to be more succesful this year.  Anyone out there care to join me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-2850000911673775056?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2850000911673775056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=2850000911673775056' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/2850000911673775056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/2850000911673775056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/05/lesson-learned-last-year.html' title='Lesson learned last year'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/ShTrlA19NjI/AAAAAAAAAog/dfqGJD8-svA/s72-c/triathlon+suit.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-702882587296534120</id><published>2009-05-19T18:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T18:37:11.019-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Travis!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/ShNaMiQWFTI/AAAAAAAAAoY/VVRwRt5Lnf0/s1600-h/n500403983_982082_8438.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/ShNaMiQWFTI/AAAAAAAAAoY/VVRwRt5Lnf0/s320/n500403983_982082_8438.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337709154764461362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happy 22&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; Birthday Travis!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a weekend of record breaking heat yesterday we had clouds and a couple of raindrops.  I said to Randy, "the weather was exactly like this 22 years ago when I had Travis!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, that time has flown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In less than a month Travis will graduate from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;UCSB&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With boundless pride, admiration and love-  Happy Birthday Travis!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch out world- here he comes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-702882587296534120?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/702882587296534120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=702882587296534120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/702882587296534120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/702882587296534120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/05/happy-birthday-travis.html' title='Happy Birthday Travis!'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/ShNaMiQWFTI/AAAAAAAAAoY/VVRwRt5Lnf0/s72-c/n500403983_982082_8438.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-1092083215729984852</id><published>2009-05-18T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T13:17:44.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>been gone, haven't forgotten</title><content type='html'>where exactly does time go?&lt;br /&gt;I have every intention of updating this thing on a regular basis but the day slip away and no update!&lt;br /&gt;Currently I have nothing important on my mind . . . so, this is a quick hello and a promise for more than monthly updates in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;scouts honor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-1092083215729984852?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1092083215729984852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=1092083215729984852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/1092083215729984852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/1092083215729984852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/05/been-gone-havent-forgotten.html' title='been gone, haven&apos;t forgotten'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-6649665099679602854</id><published>2009-04-20T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T13:02:54.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>some observations</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SezUxqUDh2I/AAAAAAAAAoI/1KDz1qCBVRo/s1600-h/nyc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326866408909539170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 226px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SezUxqUDh2I/AAAAAAAAAoI/1KDz1qCBVRo/s320/nyc.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm a little mad with myself that I don't have the cord to my phone to upload pictures.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I haven't commented on my recent trip to NYC and had a couple of cute shots to share, oh well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was my first visit to Ashley's new apartment. The observation here: If you watch any TV set in NYC you are bound to believe that everyone has spacious apartments. Seinfeld, Will and Grace, Mad about You, How I met your Mother, scenes from CSI NY or any other show would lead you to believe that living space in the city is relatively the same as here in California. NOT!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ashley has a darling new apartment, in a fantastic location but her bedroom is roughly the size of Randy's truck (maybe a teeny tiny bit bigger). The living room/kitchen combined are about the size of my bathroom (granted I have a huge bathroom). We take big space for granted here, the average New Yorker does not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other observation: in NY a scarf is not a accessory, it is a necessity. Living in California I'm always amused by coats and scarves. It really isn't that cold here. I packed two coats and two scarves for the trip. Glad I did, it is cold there . . and when the wind kicked up YIKKES.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My daughter loves her new city, and I love my daughter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will enjoy visiting her as much as time permits, but I know that I could not be an Urban dweller at this point in my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Big spaces and the ability to drive wherever I want, buy enough groceries for a few days and DRIVE them home, now that's what I'm all about!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-6649665099679602854?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6649665099679602854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=6649665099679602854' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/6649665099679602854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/6649665099679602854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/some-observations.html' title='some observations'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SezUxqUDh2I/AAAAAAAAAoI/1KDz1qCBVRo/s72-c/nyc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-4316272447153541068</id><published>2009-04-17T21:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T21:11:42.447-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fantastic!</title><content type='html'>I'm so cross at myself for not posting this a couple days back when I first heard it . . . better late than never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;go to this &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxPZh4AnWyk"&gt;you-tube link&lt;/a&gt; for a treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson:  NEVER judge a book by it's cover.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-4316272447153541068?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4316272447153541068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=4316272447153541068' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/4316272447153541068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/4316272447153541068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/fantastic.html' title='Fantastic!'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-170440514647977903</id><published>2009-04-15T23:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T23:06:15.119-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's all in the presentation</title><content type='html'>You've heard this before right? &lt;br /&gt;For good food to be considered great, it's in the presentation.&lt;br /&gt;A great screenplay is only as good as it's presented.&lt;br /&gt;A compliment, is only that when presented correctly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you may or may not know I ABHOR being called tan.  To my ears this translates  to "oh dear, you should take better care of your skin"  or " you will look old before your time"  etc.  I know people don't all mean that, but it's the hanging pause . . . "you are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;soooooo&lt;/span&gt; tan..........."  how do you respond to that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This evening, after my swim, I was headed to the comfort of the hot hot shower.  My pool friend Helena, a lovely Czech woman said to me, "you have the most beautiful beautiful skin color"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was all in the presentation.&lt;br /&gt;A compliment which I received, and didn't doubt.&lt;br /&gt;I will continue to use my 70 sunscreen, but the next time someone gives me the "you are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; tan . . . . "   I will instead hear, " you have the most beautiful beautiful skin color"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-170440514647977903?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/170440514647977903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=170440514647977903' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/170440514647977903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/170440514647977903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/04/its-all-in-presentation.html' title='It&apos;s all in the presentation'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-1003156391971974419</id><published>2009-03-24T11:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T11:24:40.019-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A fond farewell</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SckjCeOrW3I/AAAAAAAAAoA/NnRdxeCjRzY/s1600-h/Murray-4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SckjCeOrW3I/AAAAAAAAAoA/NnRdxeCjRzY/s320/Murray-4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316819360468917106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will be a long time before I will be able to look at this, or any other picture of Murray without spontaneously breaking into tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Wednesday we had to say goodbye to our dear Murray.  He has been slowing down recently, but heck at over 10 1/2 years old- that is allowed.  Randy commented on Tuesday night that he would walk Murray on Wednesday when he got home from work.  He attempted that walk but found him too weak to even return home and subsequently took him to the vet.  I just "knew" that there would be something wrong.  I called Kyle at school who left his class and met Randy at the vet.  I left work early and drove as quickly as I could to the vet.  When I entered the room about 45 minutes later the vet had made her diagnosis and recommendations.  It appears that Murray had one or several tumors in his abdomen.  Of particular concern was one in his liver, wrapping around organs and compressing the bowels.  He was uncomfortable and we knew what we had to do.  The cancer was inoperable and the most humane thing to do was to let him go.  Fortunately we  were with him, hugged him, reassured him and loved him as he passed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what your belief system is, and I don't really care.  I am sure Murray is in heaven now, chasing squirrels and waiting for the rest of us to join him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you Murray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best dog . . . ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-1003156391971974419?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1003156391971974419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=1003156391971974419' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/1003156391971974419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/1003156391971974419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/03/fond-farewell.html' title='A fond farewell'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SckjCeOrW3I/AAAAAAAAAoA/NnRdxeCjRzY/s72-c/Murray-4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-7381408285470769015</id><published>2009-03-18T14:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T15:07:13.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Second post of the day</title><content type='html'>De &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Quervain's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tenosynovitis&lt;/span&gt;.  Can you say this?  It's my latest "issue"  Also known as "washerwoman sprain"  (clearly not me) or "Mother's wrist" which new mom's get from the repetitive motion of picking up a baby (who's weight increases daily).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from the Mayo clinic website:&lt;br /&gt;In &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Quervain's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;tenosynovitis&lt;/span&gt;, the sheath of the tendons on the thumb side of your wrist becomes inflamed or swollen, restricting the tendons' movement. The result with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Quervain's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;tenosynovitis&lt;/span&gt; is discomfort and pain every time you turn your wrist, grasp anything or make a fist.&lt;br /&gt;Treatment for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Quervain's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;tenosynovitis&lt;/span&gt; may range from immobilizing your wrist and taking medications to surgery in more serious cases. If you start treatment early on, your symptoms of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Quervain's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;tenosynovitis&lt;/span&gt; should generally improve within four to six weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From personal experience I can tell you that it also interferes with sleep.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't had an uninterrupted night of sleep since Saturday when this flared.&lt;br /&gt;Today I was fitted with a large splint, and a smaller wrist splint.  So NYC here I come, splints and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like my knitting will have to wait for now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-7381408285470769015?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7381408285470769015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=7381408285470769015' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/7381408285470769015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/7381408285470769015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/03/second-post-of-day.html' title='Second post of the day'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-4412452769331437347</id><published>2009-03-18T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T15:07:37.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The perfect color</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I had my hair cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, big news (not)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what is funny was my hairdressers comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said to me, "I know I don't color your hair, but I LOVE the color and highlights, how do you do it" She went on to say that in this current economy her clients are electing to do home color and save a few dollars. If I could possibly share my secrets, she would gladly pass them on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, here it is. Be sure to follow exactly or I cannot guarantee the results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/ScFsQuFhHDI/AAAAAAAAAng/oZdkfxOJu9I/s1600-h/color.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314648069778775090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 98px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/ScFsQuFhHDI/AAAAAAAAAng/oZdkfxOJu9I/s320/color.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PLUS&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314648858645182338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 127px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 84px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/ScFs-o17N4I/AAAAAAAAAn4/Jl_I4apJeow/s320/swim+pool.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, what you have here. Use "perfect 10" by Revlon- I favor light brown. Swim in a public swim pool, you may use a cap. Be sure to apply the latter 5-6 times per week.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It will work. You should have a nice light brown color which is insanely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;shiny&lt;/span&gt; like Barbie hair. If all fails, contact Mattel to see if they have some spare hair for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-4412452769331437347?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4412452769331437347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=4412452769331437347' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/4412452769331437347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/4412452769331437347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/03/perfect-color.html' title='The perfect color'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/ScFsQuFhHDI/AAAAAAAAAng/oZdkfxOJu9I/s72-c/color.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-2723444891191830665</id><published>2009-03-03T12:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T12:57:54.929-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ringtones</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/Sa2YycWZGtI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/PdUe1Dp2Mm0/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 88px; height: 126px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/Sa2YycWZGtI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/PdUe1Dp2Mm0/s320/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309067528110676690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did we do before technology?&lt;br /&gt;As you know (if you have been reading) I have a new I-Phone.&lt;br /&gt;With all me previous phones I have had the kids make me ringtones which I assign to different callers.   Randy has the theme from Sanford and Son, Ashley a Cake song called Opera Singer etc.&lt;br /&gt;It's so helpful when you can hear who is calling, run in a sprint if its family and let the phone mail deal with strangers!&lt;br /&gt;Well, the i-phone only lets you have personal ringtones if you use their music.  HUH?&lt;br /&gt;So, last night I started a new project.&lt;br /&gt;I found a resource on you-tube and using both of my computer screens put the video on one and worked the other to create new ringtones.&lt;br /&gt;Now the dilemma is what song to assign to who?&lt;br /&gt;Randy is still Sanford and Sons.&lt;br /&gt;Ashley is now Frank Sinatra "New York, New York"&lt;br /&gt;Ingrid is Lady Marmalade "hey sister, soul sister"&lt;br /&gt;Oma and Opa have John Mayer's "Daughters"&lt;br /&gt;and now I'm open for suggestions for other songs.  If you suspect you are in my address book- please suggest your own ringtone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-2723444891191830665?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2723444891191830665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=2723444891191830665' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/2723444891191830665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/2723444891191830665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/03/ringtones.html' title='ringtones'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/Sa2YycWZGtI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/PdUe1Dp2Mm0/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-4100059927799123533</id><published>2009-03-03T00:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T00:40:34.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>good Karma</title><content type='html'>From &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sanfords&lt;/span&gt; lips to God's ears.&lt;br /&gt;I had called the pool twice . . . no bag.&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;despaired&lt;/span&gt;, but finally gave in and ordered a new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;swimp&lt;/span&gt;3 and new fins . . . my swim essentials.&lt;br /&gt;I went off to the pool in a foul mood. &lt;br /&gt;The swim was cold and rainy . . . I was still grouchy.&lt;br /&gt;I came in from my shower and noticed a bag hanging on a hook behind another woman midway through dressing.&lt;br /&gt;"is that your bag?" I asked&lt;br /&gt;"no" . . . quickly I grabbed it and ta-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;da&lt;/span&gt; , my bag was found.&lt;br /&gt;"that's amazing" commented the woman.  I told her I would be most amazed if all contents were intact.&lt;br /&gt;They were.&lt;br /&gt;she commented on my good Karma and wondered if I had given a parking spot to someone.&lt;br /&gt;Now I see what my reward is for letting people ahead of me in the grocery line.&lt;br /&gt;This is far better payback than I could have imagined!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-4100059927799123533?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4100059927799123533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=4100059927799123533' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/4100059927799123533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/4100059927799123533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/03/good-karma.html' title='good Karma'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-5656484777333731965</id><published>2009-03-02T16:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T16:18:07.441-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sad . . .</title><content type='html'>second post of the day, yippee- but kind of a whining one.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I had a wonderful swim. As I said before I'm trying to make up for some lost time and have been hitting it as hard as possible whenever I manage to make it to the pool. Yesterday I put in 4200 yards- no slouch swim to be sure. I must have been exceptionally tired when I left the locker room after my shower because I left my mesh bag behind which contains my goggles, fins and paddles, gloves and beloved Finis &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;swimp&lt;/span&gt;3 player which allows me to swim and listen to music during those long swims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem was discovered when at lunch time today I went out to the car to find and recharge my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;swimp&lt;/span&gt;3 player. I quickly placed a phone call to the pool, not yet too nervous as I was one of the last to leave yesterday and it was only 11:30 am this morning. The desk clerk looked but found nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/Sax29FwlgbI/AAAAAAAAAm4/7tbNXAnPIkg/s1600-h/bedazzled_10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308748852653031858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 216px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 219px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/Sax29FwlgbI/AAAAAAAAAm4/7tbNXAnPIkg/s320/bedazzled_10.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart just sunk to my stomach.&lt;br /&gt;I can't swim without my cap or goggles.&lt;br /&gt;I don't really want to swim without my music&lt;br /&gt;My shoulder requires I use the fins as part of my workout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insert a long string of epithets here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Randy, always rational reminds me this isn't a huge issue. "just replace everything"&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I will . . .&lt;br /&gt;and this time I'm going to bedazzle the SHIT out of everything.&lt;br /&gt;I find it hard to believe anyone is going to want to swim with fins or goggles with all kinds of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bling&lt;/span&gt; on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm doing it. Imagine this hello kitty bedazzled all over my swim stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;something tells me my bag would still be in the locker room.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-5656484777333731965?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5656484777333731965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=5656484777333731965' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/5656484777333731965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/5656484777333731965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/03/sad.html' title='sad . . .'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/Sax29FwlgbI/AAAAAAAAAm4/7tbNXAnPIkg/s72-c/bedazzled_10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-2556351248559643954</id><published>2009-03-02T15:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T15:58:11.839-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a different kind of love</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/b-awVQkTeVE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/b-awVQkTeVE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to put politics aside and wonder aloud, just what is gained by breaking up these families?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-2556351248559643954?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2556351248559643954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=2556351248559643954' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/2556351248559643954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/2556351248559643954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/03/different-kind-of-love.html' title='a different kind of love'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-873072933682916337</id><published>2009-02-25T21:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T21:42:26.891-08:00</updated><title type='text'>bubbles . . .</title><content type='html'>Two posts in one day!&lt;br /&gt;I went to the pool today trying desperately to get my February numbers up.&lt;br /&gt;If you know me well, you know I'm not the neatest person around.  The past couple of days, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;apres&lt;/span&gt;' swim I haven't hung my suit to dry and have accumulated a pile of wet suits in the trunk.  So, since I was in a big hurry I pulled my old pink suit out of dry dock to give it a spin.&lt;br /&gt;oh dear.&lt;br /&gt;I noticed after turns that as I came up my suit would fill with air.  Mind you this is a super baggy, stretched suit . . .not a good look.  Then, when I made a turn the air would squeeze out and make sort of a big "fart" noise.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt;, I was laughing, and trying not to choke on water.&lt;br /&gt;I kept going though- as if nothing was amiss. &lt;br /&gt;The swim went something like this.  Stroke, stroke, stroke, turn (fill with air) swim swim swim, turn- (big fart noise) followed by (fill with air).&lt;br /&gt;I swam 2300 yards before I could take it no more.  When I got out of the pool the bottom hung down about 8 inches- it looked like I was wearing a big diaper in my suit.&lt;br /&gt;I showered and intended to dump the suit then and there but held on to it, just in case some very large person ever wants to swim in our pool and doesn't have their own suit-  I've got them covered . . . literally.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-873072933682916337?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/873072933682916337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=873072933682916337' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/873072933682916337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/873072933682916337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/02/bubbles.html' title='bubbles . . .'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-8043311164214712284</id><published>2009-02-25T08:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T09:54:07.904-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ash Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SaWCzY0KFPI/AAAAAAAAAmo/Kdy1CRT0NC0/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 109px; height: 151px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SaWCzY0KFPI/AAAAAAAAAmo/Kdy1CRT0NC0/s320/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306791555272152306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ash Wednesday, in the Western Church, the first day of Lent, being the seventh Wednesday before Easter.  On this day ashes are placed on the foreheads of the faithful to remind them of death, of the sorrow they should feel for their sins, and of the necessity of changing their lives.  the practice, which dates from the early Middle Ages, is common among Roman Catholics, Anglicans and Episcopalians, and many Lutherans; it was also adopted by some Methodists and Presbyterians in the 1990's. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember so vividly, when the children were young, Ashley observing a woman with Ashes on her forehead on Ash Wednesday.  Insistently, Ashley turns to me and in a VERY LOUD preschooler whisper says, "Mommy, that lady has dirt on her face".  My face of course turned red as I tried to explain Ash Wednesday to my then four year old.  Those days are past but each year Ash Wednesday is a visual reminder of lent.  In many countries, the last day before  Lent (called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mardi&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Gras&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Shrove&lt;/span&gt; Tuesday, Carnival or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Fasching&lt;/span&gt;) has become a last fling before the solemnity of Lent.  For centuries it was customary to fast by abstaining from meat during Lent, which is why some people call the festival Carnival, which is Latin for farewell to meat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/span&gt;:  Lent, in some, is the forty-day long liturgical season of fasting and prayer before Easter.  The forty days represent the time Jesus spent in the desert, where according to the Bible he endured temptation by Satan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many modern Protestants (of which I am one) consider the observation of Lent to be a choice, rather than an obligation.  they may decide to give up a favorite food or drink (e.g. chocolate or alcohol) or activity (e.g., going to the movies, playing video games, etc.)  for Lent, or they may instead take on a Lenten discipline such as devotions, volunteering or charity work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I drove to work today I thought about what I would "give up" for Lent.  Following a news story about alcohol consumption and a subsequent increase in breast cancer risk (Even as little as one drink per day!) the choice was easy.  for the next 40 plus days, I'm alcohol free.  I joked with Randy about this, had I known I was going to make this commitment, I would have partied up on Fat Tuesday!  Randy thought he might give up working in the vineyard for Lent-  I needed to gently remind him it was not giving up a chore or something you find difficult in the first place, rather something you find pleasure in or enjoy.  He is still thinking about what that might be .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, let's see how it goes.  Is it too early to be planning Easter dinner . . . and the appropriate wine to go with it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-8043311164214712284?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8043311164214712284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=8043311164214712284' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/8043311164214712284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/8043311164214712284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/02/ash-wednesday.html' title='Ash Wednesday'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SaWCzY0KFPI/AAAAAAAAAmo/Kdy1CRT0NC0/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-143952075149795233</id><published>2009-02-24T09:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T09:23:38.135-08:00</updated><title type='text'>love and appreciation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SaQpkAhT6zI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/mmJED-lfxnw/s1600-h/Hershey%27s+Kisses+Chocolate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 188px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SaQpkAhT6zI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/mmJED-lfxnw/s320/Hershey%27s+Kisses+Chocolate.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306411959541033778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After a weekend away from home I returned Sunday night wondering just exactly what I was going to find (having left two "bachelors" alone for the weekend.)   When I had parked the Expedition outside I was immediately greeted by Murray and Tucker (no, these aren't the two bachelors, rather happy, exuberant dogs.)  I walked inside, wondering what kind of disarray I might find.  The family room was tidy, the kitchen was clean and the counter was filled with items already packaged for Ebay.  "There you are" was Randy's comment as he came around the corner, a wide smile on his face which lite his eyes.  A big hug and kiss followed by "I missed you".  You know you can feel when someone is genuine . . . he really was happy to see me, and he really did miss me.  The most telling thing here . . . all the wrapped and ready packages on the counter.  That is typically "my" job for Ebay and represented hours of work- he had done that for me to save me that work on Sunday evening.&lt;br /&gt;Heart squeeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a quiet dinner, followed by an evening of Oscar watching while I made the labels for all those packages Randy had done.  Kyle was out, not expected home for a couple of hours.  Later I called Kyle, wondering when I might see him, he thought they would leave and be home in an hour or so.  Well, that hour came and went but I couldn't wait up any longer and took my book off to bed with me.  Much later, while I was sleeping, Kyle came in said good night and gently kissed me on the cheek.  I actually incorporated this into and dream and it wasn't until yesterday that I asked him about it.  "did you kiss me on the cheek last night?"  "yes", he replied . . ."I didn't want to scare you, or make you mad by waking you, but I missed you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if being loved and missed could ever make a Mom mad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-143952075149795233?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/143952075149795233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=143952075149795233' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/143952075149795233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/143952075149795233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/02/love-and-appreciation.html' title='love and appreciation'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SaQpkAhT6zI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/mmJED-lfxnw/s72-c/Hershey%27s+Kisses+Chocolate.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-6512278951767745654</id><published>2009-02-23T13:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T13:42:11.595-08:00</updated><title type='text'>fusion . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SaMWnGIu4hI/AAAAAAAAAl4/wPsDJJsj7FM/s1600-h/IMG_0042[1]"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306109646890525202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 212px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 147px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SaMWnGIu4hI/AAAAAAAAAl4/wPsDJJsj7FM/s320/IMG_0042%5B1%5D" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Everyone, at one time in their life, should have a job that makes them appreciate what they do later in life. My such job was between my Junior and Senior year of college. I worked on an assembly line making pet feeders, and packaging supplies for pets. The job was HORRIBLE. We started early in the morning (6:30am) and worked very hard. The ladies on the line were all "career" workers- this was just a pit stop for me, but for them, this was it. If you remember the early episodes of the Roseanne show (when George Clooney was on) she worked on an assembly line, mine was quite similar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SaMXkCEAG_I/AAAAAAAAAmI/D1ianMPxfYc/s1600-h/IMG_0039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306110693768961010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 194px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SaMXkCEAG_I/AAAAAAAAAmI/D1ianMPxfYc/s320/IMG_0039.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, where am I going with this particular wander down memory lane? Over the weekend I went to visit Travis in Santa Barbara. Austin's (Travis' roommate) father owns a company which produces energy drinks. Austin and Travis have been "contracted" to package these drinks for display and sale. I spent four hours "working the line" with them. We assembled display boxes and packaged product. Austin packaged for shipment. It was "sort of" like working on the line- only when I worked at the pet supply place I wasn't able to sit, sip a lovely IPA or watch movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;These kids don't know how good they've got it!&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/8924190507292540374-6512278951767745654?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6512278951767745654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=6512278951767745654' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/6512278951767745654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/6512278951767745654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/02/fusion.html' title='fusion . . .'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OEIEug46TJw/SaMWnGIu4hI/AAAAAAAAAl4/wPsDJJsj7FM/s72-c/IMG_0042%5B1%5D' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8924190507292540374.post-2570135289816510900</id><published>2009-02-17T19:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T19:03:53.025-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"I do" believe in marriage equality</title><content type='html'>I have just a minute.  I'm sitting in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Las&lt;/span&gt; Vegas airport- my plane should have taken off 15 minutes ago, it just arrived from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SFO&lt;/span&gt; so I have a bit of time before I get to board.  But, I just have a minute.&lt;br /&gt;Travis was in Sacramento today lobbying for the NO on 8 campaign.&lt;br /&gt;The group prevailed and the item has been sent to the California courts to decide.&lt;br /&gt;Travis and John (another Soc major) are planning to write a blog entry and publish it here- keep your eyes open!  The kids were quite excited about their foray into politics- I am anxiously waiting to read their account as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8924190507292540374-2570135289816510900?l=frommymangledmind.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2570135289816510900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8924190507292540374&amp;postID=2570135289816510900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/2570135289816510900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8924190507292540374/posts/default/2570135289816510900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frommymangledmind.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-do-believe-in-marriage-equality.html' title='&quot;I do&quot; believe in marriage equality'/><author><name>A view from the middle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05960658770731864962</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10844933050182662012'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>