<?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-3941392252728969955</id><updated>2011-07-29T02:56:49.942-04:00</updated><category term='listz'/><category term='badzen'/><category term='fairytalez'/><category term='badpoetry'/><title type='text'>West Auburn Road</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Terry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786071053600210715</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TRdeR3457UI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gOClB2YvbGg/S220/IMG_4442.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3941392252728969955.post-5016837808516197140</id><published>2011-07-04T08:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-04T08:25:03.596-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bill of Rights :: Happy 4th of July!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;Gotta love the Constitution!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-flTINYqV6Tw/ThGowcXzjiI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/uGFolGedm9k/s1600/IMG_0526.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-flTINYqV6Tw/ThGowcXzjiI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/uGFolGedm9k/s320/IMG_0526.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;The 4th Amendment&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;The right of the  people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects,  against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and  no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or  affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and  the persons or things to be seized.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gJhe-_fYAek/ThGpWjqfXoI/AAAAAAAAAHU/FNBKB3Zpkwk/s1600/IMG_0421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gJhe-_fYAek/ThGpWjqfXoI/AAAAAAAAAHU/FNBKB3Zpkwk/s320/IMG_0421.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;The 2nd Amendment&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; A well regulated  Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of  the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eeMGok6XaUE/ThGpzFsc7eI/AAAAAAAAAHY/szqxrZpe7-Y/s1600/IMG_0277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eeMGok6XaUE/ThGpzFsc7eI/AAAAAAAAAHY/szqxrZpe7-Y/s320/IMG_0277.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;The 8th Amendment&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&amp;nbsp; Excessive bail shall  not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual  punishments inflicted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1y-F_GzwEoQ/ThGqXcJ1AQI/AAAAAAAAAHc/yyiLYA5G2Xg/s1600/IMG_0153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1y-F_GzwEoQ/ThGqXcJ1AQI/AAAAAAAAAHc/yyiLYA5G2Xg/s320/IMG_0153.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;The 1st Amendment&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&amp;nbsp;     Congress shall  make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the  free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the  press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition  the Government for a redress of grievances.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yBShz7IGbuo/ThGrIHwanmI/AAAAAAAAAHg/7UVNPdUCDpY/s1600/IMG_0237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yBShz7IGbuo/ThGrIHwanmI/AAAAAAAAAHg/7UVNPdUCDpY/s320/IMG_0237.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;The 5th Amendment&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; No person shall be  held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a  presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising in  the land or naval forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service in  time of War or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for the  same offence to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor shall be  compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself, nor be  deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor  shall private property be taken for public use, without just  compensation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2MPM9b7FRGo/ThGrn6OCtbI/AAAAAAAAAHk/-MWTuFTmS30/s1600/IMG_0256.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2MPM9b7FRGo/ThGrn6OCtbI/AAAAAAAAAHk/-MWTuFTmS30/s320/IMG_0256.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;The 7th Amendment&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; In suits at common  law, where the value in controversy shall exceed twenty dollars, the  right of trial by jury shall be preserved, and no fact tried by a jury,  shall be otherwise re-examined in any court of the United States, than  according to the rules of the common law&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uQ8w1O5XQao/ThGtHNZkegI/AAAAAAAAAHo/59bfg6Be2Cg/s1600/IMG_0079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uQ8w1O5XQao/ThGtHNZkegI/AAAAAAAAAHo/59bfg6Be2Cg/s320/IMG_0079.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;The 3rd Amendment&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; No Soldier shall, in  time of peace be quartered in any house, without the consent of the  Owner, nor in time of war, but in a manner to be prescribed by law.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NjiReG7_cNg/ThGth7P3R2I/AAAAAAAAAHs/sR-dYg8fDLM/s1600/IMG_0158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NjiReG7_cNg/ThGth7P3R2I/AAAAAAAAAHs/sR-dYg8fDLM/s320/IMG_0158.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;The 9th Amendment&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; The enumeration in  the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or  disparage others retained by the people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4GpAVZ9gaKQ/ThGuNNeuGgI/AAAAAAAAAHw/IBKD_zPMY74/s1600/IMG_0120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4GpAVZ9gaKQ/ThGuNNeuGgI/AAAAAAAAAHw/IBKD_zPMY74/s320/IMG_0120.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;The 6th Amendment&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; In all criminal  prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public  trial, by an impartial jury of the State and district wherein the crime  shall have been committed, which district shall have been previously  ascertained by law, and to be informed of the nature and cause of the  accusation; to be confronted with the witnesses against him; to have  compulsory process for obtaining witnesses in his favor, and to have the  Assistance of Counsel for his defence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b-p9mHlJim4/ThGu8tqFEEI/AAAAAAAAAH0/UBnbeWv3FSs/s1600/IMG_0470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b-p9mHlJim4/ThGu8tqFEEI/AAAAAAAAAH0/UBnbeWv3FSs/s320/IMG_0470.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;The 10th Amendment&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; The powers not  delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it  to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the  people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3941392252728969955-5016837808516197140?l=westauburnroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5016837808516197140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2011/07/bill-of-rights-happy-4th-of-july.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/5016837808516197140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/5016837808516197140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2011/07/bill-of-rights-happy-4th-of-july.html' title='The Bill of Rights :: Happy 4th of July!!!'/><author><name>Terry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786071053600210715</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TRdeR3457UI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gOClB2YvbGg/S220/IMG_4442.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-flTINYqV6Tw/ThGowcXzjiI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/uGFolGedm9k/s72-c/IMG_0526.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3941392252728969955.post-8817541858794935894</id><published>2010-10-06T20:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-06T20:45:43.983-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Going Down...And Back Up Again</title><content type='html'>Having created a family blog, I am reminded of this one.&amp;nbsp; It doesn't have as firm a provenance but that just makes it more flexible.&amp;nbsp; Today was beautiful.&amp;nbsp; Warm and sunny.&amp;nbsp; The maple trees in my front yard are blazing red.&amp;nbsp; (Good sign?&amp;nbsp; Bad sign?).&amp;nbsp; It almost makes up for the darkness that is creeping closer and closer and closer.&amp;nbsp; Almost.&amp;nbsp; I rediscovered H.P. Lovecraft a few days ago.&amp;nbsp; For $1.99 paid to &lt;a href="http://barnesandnoble.com/"&gt;Barnes and Noble&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;I was able to buy &lt;a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/The-Definitive-HP-Lovecraft/H-P-Lovecraft/e/2940011827976/?itm=1&amp;amp;USRI=h.p.+lovecraft"&gt;The Definitive H.P. Lovecraft&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;as an ebook.&amp;nbsp; You gotta love the Nook.&amp;nbsp; This is 67 stories, over 1000 pages for 2 bucks and I didn't have to stand up!&amp;nbsp; I just clicked here and there and said okay and before you know it I was reading 'The Nameless City.'&amp;nbsp; My only problem so far with the whole ebook thang is not everything is an ebook.&amp;nbsp; I would love to re-read some old friends (Jo Clayton, C.J. Cherryh, Sharon Shinn) but the old titles just aren't available.&amp;nbsp; Sigh.&amp;nbsp; So I will dig up the paper book and enjoy them that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's move on to &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/"&gt;You Tube&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;and my current favorite viral video wherein Hank Jackson expresses concern that Guam may capsize.&amp;nbsp; If you haven't seen this one, click &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bs23CjIWMgA"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp; I don't know which is more hilarious.&amp;nbsp; Hank's fear that the island will capsize due to overpopulation or the respondent's answer that 'We don't anticipate that...."&amp;nbsp; OMG!&amp;nbsp; This guy was ELECTED!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ricky the dog has no concerns for Guam.&amp;nbsp; He is standing guard over the closet.&amp;nbsp; It's hard to say what might be IN the closet that has sparked Ricky to alert attention.&amp;nbsp; Eventually he will let us know.&amp;nbsp; And speaking of dogs, let it be recorded that Lucy has got some odd habits.&amp;nbsp; Every night she jumps onto the bed.&amp;nbsp; She doesn't sleep at the foot of the bed like a Ricky (in this, a proper dog).&amp;nbsp; Oh no, Lucy sleeps under the blankets, all the way under.&amp;nbsp; I don't know how she gets enough air.&amp;nbsp; I've already noted that with Stewart, me and both dogs, that double bed is supporting more than 400 pounds.&amp;nbsp; I don't think we can add an oxygen bottle for Lucy.&amp;nbsp; Maybe I should drill holes in the blanket.&amp;nbsp; Probably you think this is overkill but I am worried about it.&amp;nbsp; After all, if you want to stay warm on a chilly fall night, stick a dog under your blank.&amp;nbsp; Go ahead.&amp;nbsp; Try it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Elinor has acquired a back pack, Tess has a green streak in her hair and Zander drew me a picture and in it I was holding a black balloon.&amp;nbsp; Since he and Tess, who were also in the picture, were holding a yellow and a green balloon, I am not worried.&amp;nbsp; It's only fair, after all that I get the black balloon.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We close with this quote from Ricky 'Aaaaaaiiiiieee eeeee eeee'.&amp;nbsp; No, he didn't assault nor was he assaulted by the threat in the closet.&amp;nbsp; Fred and Carla are here to visit.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TK0X8ay8n1I/AAAAAAAAAF0/QdS8HLWyAkM/s1600/100_0605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TK0X8ay8n1I/AAAAAAAAAF0/QdS8HLWyAkM/s320/100_0605.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3941392252728969955-8817541858794935894?l=westauburnroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/feeds/8817541858794935894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2010/10/going-downand-back-up-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/8817541858794935894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/8817541858794935894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2010/10/going-downand-back-up-again.html' title='Going Down...And Back Up Again'/><author><name>Terry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786071053600210715</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TRdeR3457UI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gOClB2YvbGg/S220/IMG_4442.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TK0X8ay8n1I/AAAAAAAAAF0/QdS8HLWyAkM/s72-c/100_0605.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3941392252728969955.post-2828663295107484034</id><published>2009-04-18T15:30:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T15:57:59.023-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Trekkin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SeovrIVyW4I/AAAAAAAAAEo/82h5S2BrWcM/s1600-h/IMG_4438.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326121927338777474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SeovrIVyW4I/AAAAAAAAAEo/82h5S2BrWcM/s320/IMG_4438.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Got a new idea. Go &lt;a href="http://watchout4snakes.com/creativitytools/RandomWord/RandomWordPlus.aspx"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and take whatever word pops up as the Theme4TheDay. Integrate that word into &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.twitter.com"&gt;Twitter &lt;/a&gt;tweets and &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.facebook.com"&gt;Facebook &lt;/a&gt;updates and of course, this &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.westauburnroad.com"&gt;epic work&lt;/a&gt;. See what happens.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I put my foot on the road of today around 8 this morning. Now it's 4 in the afternoon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So far, I've been to the &lt;a href="http://www.countrysmokehouseinc.com/"&gt;Country Smokehouse&lt;/a&gt; where I got blueberry jam and venison salami and some good bacon that's headed for a lovely bean soup.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326122107801361890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/Seov1ona3eI/AAAAAAAAAEw/E7oh48n8YkI/s320/IMG_4390.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've traveled through the, still empty, cornfields and country roads between I96/Milford and US23/Plymouth. It was pretty virtual. I was Sarah's GPS. She got lost. I got the call. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been to Toronto (another virtual journey) while chatting with my cousin and I've been to Faerie to gather lilies for Izzy's birthday present.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326122420853261234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SeowH20zw7I/AAAAAAAAAE4/lnffUomn4ro/s320/IMG_4416.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I tried to go to Millford, Maryland when &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/BreakingNews"&gt;BNO&lt;/a&gt; tweeted about a problem there but no one else seems to know anything so I am left to wonder.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right now I've wandered all the way back to the basement. The dogs are nappin' and the &lt;a href="http://www.scifi.com/"&gt;SciFi Channel&lt;/a&gt; is showing double B movies. I think I need a snack!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&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/3941392252728969955-2828663295107484034?l=westauburnroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/feeds/2828663295107484034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/04/trekkin.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/2828663295107484034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/2828663295107484034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/04/trekkin.html' title='Trekkin&apos;'/><author><name>Terry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786071053600210715</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TRdeR3457UI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gOClB2YvbGg/S220/IMG_4442.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SeovrIVyW4I/AAAAAAAAAEo/82h5S2BrWcM/s72-c/IMG_4438.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3941392252728969955.post-62617144503856546</id><published>2009-03-11T23:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T23:55:43.309-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting for Momer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/Sbh_L4jvgaI/AAAAAAAAAEg/xNZ6OjS1kLM/s1600-h/IMG_4305.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/Sbh_L4jvgaI/AAAAAAAAAEg/xNZ6OjS1kLM/s320/IMG_4305.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312135602621088162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You're almost here.  Not too many journeys these days can be measured in months but that's how long you've taken to get here.   Your mom and dad were so tickled to give the news of you to me for my birthday.  That was back in August.  I turned 50 on the same day I knew about you.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since then we've talked about you whenever we've talked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your cousin Tess, she's sleeping upstairs right now, will be happy to hold you when you are tiny and dress you and read you stories.  She reads your brother stories right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your big brother, he gave you your name, is pretty sure you can sit on the couch next to him but not so sure you will be allowed to watch movies with him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your Uncle Noah would just like to meet you.  It's not often we get a chance to meeting someone brand new.  His girlfriend Abby wants to meet you too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course your Aunt Sarah can hardly wait to have a little girl to take shopping.  Don't ask her to dye your hair though.  That's off limits for both you and Tess until you graduate from high school.  (Which is the same deal I made with Sarah a long time ago.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your Grandpa is sleeping on the couch right now or I'd ask him what he will say to you.  Probably something totally unsentimental and silly.  You'll like him if you sit still enough to figure him out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your Aunt Day is probably reading or on facebook.  Your cousin Izzy is sleeping, I hope.  She just broke her arm playing on some piece of equipment.  That makes three broken arms so far.  I think we can stop now.  I am sure your Uncle Pete is where he needs to be and so are Zoli and Matt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your beautiful mom has knit you everything you need...a blanket and a sweater and tiny shoes and even a soaker.  Your dad fixed everything up just right in yours and Zannie's bedroom.  Tess helped hammer the pegs in Zannie's dresser so you could have the one he was using.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have lots of animals for you to play with.  There's Lucy and Ricky and Gizmo and Franklin who live in my house and Uly and Zoot and Kujo who live in your house.  Abby has a cat but I don't know its name.  Oh and Tess has a fish named Scully.  Izzy has a dog named Luna (Uly is staying with her right now) and chicken and a cat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On this day, the day when you were almost here, I went to work and your Grandpa went up north with his friend Gary.  Your Aunt Sarah is a little sick with a cold and Tess was a great help around the house.  (This does not always happen but Tess really wants Congress to approve her promotion from Puerto Rico to DC.  Zander is still somewhere around Guam.)  Your Uncle Noah and Aunt Abby are in San Francisco doing their best to be late for your arrival.  Your Aunt Day posted a link about Shakespeare's new image. Your mom and dad waited and waited and waited.  If you were coming by train or plane or bus, they would be the two with their noses pressed against the window.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For you, Momer, we gather the family (which is the title to my favorite song) and welcome you home.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's a kiss from me to you, Momer.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Grandma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/3941392252728969955-62617144503856546?l=westauburnroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/feeds/62617144503856546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/03/waiting-for-momer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/62617144503856546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/62617144503856546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/03/waiting-for-momer.html' title='Waiting for Momer'/><author><name>Terry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786071053600210715</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TRdeR3457UI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gOClB2YvbGg/S220/IMG_4442.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/Sbh_L4jvgaI/AAAAAAAAAEg/xNZ6OjS1kLM/s72-c/IMG_4305.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3941392252728969955.post-3171189638806252489</id><published>2009-03-10T23:06:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T23:26:03.579-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Last Time I Saw Alice</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SbculCxLRhI/AAAAAAAAAEY/gYJgDOWAnrQ/s1600-h/DSCF6707.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311765499439957522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SbculCxLRhI/AAAAAAAAAEY/gYJgDOWAnrQ/s320/DSCF6707.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alice lives in the hole in my brain. She pops out every now and then to remind me that once upon I time I believed in Once Upon a Time. She says 'Jump in. The water's fine!' But enough of that. I have to give her props every now and then so she doesn't go squirrely on me. That would not be good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Prince Zander and Princess Tessa are great pals with Alice. She tells them secrets. She tells them where the treasure is. She whispers secrets. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311764445026355842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SbctnqxYioI/AAAAAAAAAEI/WDJ2zG6ZLZA/s320/DSCF6701.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Princess Tessa says "I don't need a coat." But Grandma makes her wear one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Prince Zander says "I want to play with cars!" But the cars are in the house and Grandma won't go get them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alice keeps the memory of this day. It was chilly, but not too cold, to throw rocks in the lake. Prince Zander's fingers are red but he still wants to pick up snow. He might even have taken a few bites. Alice isn't talking about that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311764668455822306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/Sbct0rHHo-I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/0HtCMpiYYmg/s320/DSCF6699.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's a sunny afternoon. So nice to be outside and not hustling to get somewhere warmer. This is all before Princess Momer was dreamed. The bikes were ridden for a while but the lure of the water proved stronger than laps around the driveway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311761751310238834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SbcrK35ahHI/AAAAAAAAAEA/LDDchUquK0c/s320/DSCF6721.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember. I remember laughing and trying to keep them both out of the water and thinking what a great day. &lt;/div&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/3941392252728969955-3171189638806252489?l=westauburnroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3171189638806252489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/03/last-time-i-saw-alice.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/3171189638806252489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/3171189638806252489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/03/last-time-i-saw-alice.html' title='The Last Time I Saw Alice'/><author><name>Terry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786071053600210715</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TRdeR3457UI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gOClB2YvbGg/S220/IMG_4442.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SbculCxLRhI/AAAAAAAAAEY/gYJgDOWAnrQ/s72-c/DSCF6707.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3941392252728969955.post-5924881476080020795</id><published>2009-02-22T19:48:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T20:16:42.483-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Princess Tess and Prince Zander Help the Peepers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SaHzjO50oqI/AAAAAAAAADg/QrThbQopyyg/s1600-h/DSCF6165.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SaHzjO50oqI/AAAAAAAAADg/QrThbQopyyg/s320/DSCF6165.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305789622640747170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Georgia; color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;One day, Princess Tess and Prince Zander went outside into the garden.  They were supposed to be cleaning up but instead they were making wishes.  Well, Princess Tess was actually making the wishes.  Prince Zander was watching.  His job, the way he saw it, was to catch the wishes before they got away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SaHzsbDkq_I/AAAAAAAAADo/wMENCkIXLMc/s1600-h/DSCF6169.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SaHzsbDkq_I/AAAAAAAAADo/wMENCkIXLMc/s320/DSCF6169.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305789780521692146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Princess Tess said "Stop popping my wishes!  They aren't for you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Prince Zander said "Who are they for?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Princess Tess said "Well, the peepers having been complaining a lot about their pond.  It's been shrinking because there isn't hasn't been a lot of rain lately."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Prince Zander said "You're wishing for rain!  You're not supposed to do that.  You know your mom told you no weather wishes."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Princess Tess, who had in fact been wishing for rain, quickly sucked back her breath, choked on a half-formed bit of desire and stuck her magic wand back in the wishing solution.  "I would"-cough-"never do that!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Georgia; color: #666666; min-height: 20.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SaHz4azIp5I/AAAAAAAAADw/7fjviYr4dnI/s1600-h/DSCF6173.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SaHz4azIp5I/AAAAAAAAADw/7fjviYr4dnI/s320/DSCF6173.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305789986611177362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"Then what are you wishing for?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"Well,"  Princess Tess blew another stream of wishes and thought hard, "I'm wishing for....um....water fairies.  Yep.  That's it.  Water fairies."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"Aren't they the same as water sprites?  'Cause if they are, you can't wish them either.  My mom told you no mythological creature conjures.  And water sprites are so vain, they'll never be bothered to save frogs!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"Where did you learn a word like mythological?  You can't even spell your own name."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Prince Zander looked smug.  "I can make wishes too."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"Uh huh.  Or maybe you've been playing on spellkids.org when you're supposed to be in bed."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"You better not tell!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"Oh keep your crown on.  I'm not going to tell anybody anything and neither are you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"As long as you don't get us in trouble."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Princess Tess and Prince Zander shook on it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"So how are you going to get the water fairies to help the peepers without conjuring?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Princess Tess stirred and stirred and stirred and stirred some more.  Finally she said, "Well, the peepers need water.  We can't make it rain and we can't conjure a water fairy, but we can make the frogs' home someplace a water fairy come to see, and bring a bit of water for the privilege.  Here's what we're going to do."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Georgia; color: #666666; min-height: 20.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SaH0K-BpJAI/AAAAAAAAAD4/CTNqAv-skxs/s1600-h/DSCF6166.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SaH0K-BpJAI/AAAAAAAAAD4/CTNqAv-skxs/s320/DSCF6166.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305790305304912898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Sometime later, Grandma came outside to tell Princess Tess and Prince Zander it was time to come in for dinner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;What she saw made her stop.  "Oh my!" she said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"Grandma!  Grandma!"  Prince Zander came running over.  "We're saving the peepers!  We're saving the peepers!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Grandma looked from the full pond to the line of water fairies fluttering in line in front of a shimmering booth.  The line snaked around the entire garden and off into the treeline.  Each sprite was carrying what appeared to be a thimbleful of water.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Princess Tess stood in front of the line.  As each fairy approached, she carefully took the thimble of water and poured it into white tube leading to the center of the pond.  Behind her head, Grandma could see Princess Tess had set her bubble machine on automatic.  It was pumping thousands of wishes into the air and as far as Grandma could tell each wish was the same as the sign on the booth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"What do you think of my plan, Grandma"  Princess Tessa asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;The sign on the booth read "Latest!  Greatest!  One day only SALE!  Straight from the Orient!  New treatment guaranteed to enhance your natural beauty!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Grandma watched the latest fairy, a tiny perfect creature with silver green wings pay her thimble of water and flit to the center of the booth where an equally tiny frog waited on a red velvet pillow.  Ever so gently, the fairy kissed the frog right between the eyes then quick as a wink darted to the right where a jewelled mirror hung.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"Did it work!  Am I more beautiful than ever?" the fairy asked.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"Indeed," sang the mirror.  "You are the most beautiful you that has ever been."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; min-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"Well," sighed Grandma.  "It looks like your plan worked but did you have to give my best pillow to the frog?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3941392252728969955-5924881476080020795?l=westauburnroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5924881476080020795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/princess-tess-and-prince-zander-help.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/5924881476080020795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/5924881476080020795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/princess-tess-and-prince-zander-help.html' title='Princess Tess and Prince Zander Help the Peepers'/><author><name>Terry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786071053600210715</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TRdeR3457UI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gOClB2YvbGg/S220/IMG_4442.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SaHzjO50oqI/AAAAAAAAADg/QrThbQopyyg/s72-c/DSCF6165.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3941392252728969955.post-1887677170637581535</id><published>2009-02-10T07:44:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T00:28:52.842-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wanna Buy a Chicken?</title><content type='html'>Come to Auburn Road.  We've got it all here.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've got ancient rivalries....the dogs are going to get the cats one day and there won't be a peacekeeper here to stop it.  I could build a wall but the cats would just jump on top and strut around until the dogs bark themselves into a coma.  And yesterday, I think the one of the adversaries made a first strike against the fish.  The lid was off his tank and the water level appeared lower.  Consuming another creature's habitat seems vaguely depraved.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SZZSzvAHp9I/AAAAAAAAACo/iavDjx2Afe4/s1600-h/000_0007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SZZSzvAHp9I/AAAAAAAAACo/iavDjx2Afe4/s320/000_0007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302516660019111890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've got black holes that open to another universe....Those socks have to be winding up somewhere.  Mysterious notebooks appear that no one remembers buying. Shreds of things litter the living room floor that I can't for the life of me virtually reconstruct into anything I recognize.  And where &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;has&lt;/span&gt; the cat been hiding.  Probably the Delta Quadrant.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SZZUS3yG5_I/AAAAAAAAAC4/zcTcmMwvz6U/s1600-h/gd_digital_revolution.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 132px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SZZUS3yG5_I/AAAAAAAAAC4/zcTcmMwvz6U/s320/gd_digital_revolution.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302518294463834098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've got the secret of the universe....Forget 42, that's yesterday's secret...from yet another galaxy far far away.  Today's secret is the total amount of effort it's going to take to combine (once again) Sarah's household with mine.  Oddly enough, this effort seems to require a significant reduction in gross weight of goods belonging to me and Stewart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SZZVV6GVgFI/AAAAAAAAADI/JpIq-UewZN4/s1600-h/100_0160.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SZZVV6GVgFI/AAAAAAAAADI/JpIq-UewZN4/s320/100_0160.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302519446136782930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've got the world's first diagnosed (self-diagnosed, that is) allergy to public schools.  This allergy so afflicted Tess the other day she had to come home.  As proof, Tess offered her near miraculous recovery when she got home.  I thought perhaps it was all due to eye strain from too much Club Penguin. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've got a dog nest.  Every night when Stewart and I go to bed, Ricky and Lucy grudgingly allow us mattress space.  That's about the time we kick them off the bed and tell them to rethink their place on the food chain.  That's about the time the cat waltzes past and the race is on!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SZZUp1WFs3I/AAAAAAAAADA/CwdB46ZIQYM/s1600-h/100_0608.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SZZUp1WFs3I/AAAAAAAAADA/CwdB46ZIQYM/s320/100_0608.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302518688946434930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've got challenged plumbing and overworked wiring, windows that leak heat and blur light, a flag pole that doubles as an antenna, a back patio masquerading as a kennel, carpet in the garage and a bust of Big George in the basement.  One freezer is full of dog bones and another is full of winter squash (don't ask).  The fridge freezer is mostly empty, just a few loose bags of potstickers and some frozen ice things beloved by Stewart and Tess.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I came home two days ago to random containers filled with what appeared to be dog food scattered around the kitchen.  There was a pot of it on the stove, a cup of it in the sink and a bowl (a big yellow bowl) of the stuff on the counter.  It's all gone now.  I don't think anyone cleaned the kitchen.....it's just gone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So if you wanna buy a chicken, your best bet is the grocery store, but if you want anything else, come on over to West Auburn Road.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SZZT7IYDZcI/AAAAAAAAACw/k31JiSgndGg/s1600-h/100_0346.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SZZT7IYDZcI/AAAAAAAAACw/k31JiSgndGg/s320/100_0346.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302517886601094594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3941392252728969955-1887677170637581535?l=westauburnroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/feeds/1887677170637581535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/wanna-buy-chicken.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/1887677170637581535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/1887677170637581535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/wanna-buy-chicken.html' title='Wanna Buy a Chicken?'/><author><name>Terry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786071053600210715</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TRdeR3457UI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gOClB2YvbGg/S220/IMG_4442.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SZZSzvAHp9I/AAAAAAAAACo/iavDjx2Afe4/s72-c/000_0007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3941392252728969955.post-5728324359521563785</id><published>2009-02-05T18:27:00.017-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T20:00:42.640-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='listz'/><title type='text'>Royalty</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYt2SJhBeAI/AAAAAAAAAB4/oRgLENhhMhU/s1600-h/100_0911_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYt2SJhBeAI/AAAAAAAAAB4/oRgLENhhMhU/s320/100_0911_2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299459440695670786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Top 10 Reasons Kids Should Rule the Universe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;They are absolutely unassailed by doubt. &lt;/span&gt; When asked who was going to win the game, Zander replied "I am."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;They make up their own rules.&lt;/span&gt;  Look at the bottom of the board and note the almost three full rows.  This, according to Zander, is multiple iterations of the word 'Neutron.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;They have the luck. &lt;/span&gt; Zander got both blank tiles.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;They know what's important.&lt;/span&gt;  Zander always lets his mother win.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They are willing to look at the world from a different perspective...&lt;/span&gt;and someone is always available to help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYt9IianfII/AAAAAAAAACI/Ao4TW91d768/s1600-h/100_0918_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYt9IianfII/AAAAAAAAACI/Ao4TW91d768/s320/100_0918_2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299466972162391170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Their toys are more fun than ours.&lt;/span&gt;  Who wouldn't love a cute little handknit beret! And don't send me any comments about the hat being for a newborn and the dog belonging to Tess.  Work with me here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYuBdf4S1bI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Po3d66XRuwM/s1600-h/100_0904.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYuBdf4S1bI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Po3d66XRuwM/s320/100_0904.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299471730305324466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Their clothes are more fun too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYuFUUAshMI/AAAAAAAAACY/7tptM_lI-dI/s1600-h/DSCF3877.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYuFUUAshMI/AAAAAAAAACY/7tptM_lI-dI/s320/DSCF3877.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299475970547025090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Everything is simple.  &lt;/span&gt;"I want it," pretty much sums it up.  Of course, now that I think about it, there are a lot of adults who embrace this one.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They have a tax plan.  &lt;/span&gt;Every time you go out, they want you to bring back a treat.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And the last (and most important) reason kids should rule the universe....&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They already do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYuIMfO9jzI/AAAAAAAAACg/e0gMDiNO-44/s1600-h/IMG_0289.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYuIMfO9jzI/AAAAAAAAACg/e0gMDiNO-44/s320/IMG_0289.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299479134655582002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&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/3941392252728969955-5728324359521563785?l=westauburnroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5728324359521563785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/royalty.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/5728324359521563785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/5728324359521563785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/royalty.html' title='Royalty'/><author><name>Terry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786071053600210715</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TRdeR3457UI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gOClB2YvbGg/S220/IMG_4442.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYt2SJhBeAI/AAAAAAAAAB4/oRgLENhhMhU/s72-c/100_0911_2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3941392252728969955.post-909846350445565790</id><published>2009-02-03T19:26:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T20:31:00.675-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fairytalez'/><title type='text'>Magic and Beans</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYjhFaF685I/AAAAAAAAABw/IE8Li1G43iQ/s1600-h/Kids+Art.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYjhFaF685I/AAAAAAAAABw/IE8Li1G43iQ/s320/Kids+Art.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298732444621140882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've always felt bad for &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_and_the_Beanstalk"&gt;Jack&lt;/a&gt;.  Here's a kid in a one parent home out working when he should have been in school.  Dad's out of the picture.  Probably found a new Mrs. Jack's Dad (and a new Jack too).  And what's up with Jack's Mom?  Why is Jack out working?  If the cow is the difference between living and dying, shouldn't it be Jack's Mom's job to take care of it while Jack stays home and stirs the 'er bean soup?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, obviously Jack's parents violated the parent/child contract.  Which is how poor Jack winds up charged with selling the cow and bringing Mom the cash.  Don't you find that suspicious?  I do.  What was Jack's Mom going to do with the money?  Buy drugs?  Gamble?  Surf eBay?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's no wonder Jack turns to a life of crime.  Don't even try to sell &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me &lt;/span&gt;the bean story.  First of all Jack didn't the trade the cow for beans.  He was probably waylaid by his Mom's bookie who took the cow as payment.  If any beans changed hands at all it was probably because the bookie gave Jack 5 beans to represent the number of days his Mom had left before the cow would be pushing up daisies.  It certainly makes more sense than Jack, a wily under nourished streetwise kid, being taken in by some pervert who would steal a kid's last cow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So we're agreed, right?  Beans or no beans, the beanstalk is just a metaphor for Jack's fall from moral grace.  Instead of working hard to learn an honest trade, Jack starts robbing houses.  Just little things at first...apples from the orchard, a bike left in the yard, a magic chicken who can recite Hamlet's soliloquy....but then one day, Jack gets bold.  He crosses the line from petty theft to breaking and entering.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He is so clever, that Jack.  Now, I am no longer feeling that sorry for him.  There are lines that should not be crossed.  And breaking into people's homes is one of them.  Enter the giant's wife.  Let's call her Drusilla.  Dru is bored.  Her husband, the local crime boss, isn't home all that much.  She's got no friends and no one to talk to except the maid whom she suspects is sleeping with her husband.  If she had proof, she'd...what?  Divorce him?  I don't think so.  One word.  Prenup.  So when she walks into the bedroom and finds our little sneak thief jack rifling through the drawers, does she yell?  Does she call 911?  Does she even run?  Nope.  She smiles, licks her lips and crooks her finger.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;An hour or so later, Dru's hard working crime boss of a husband comes home.  The second he enters he is suspicious.  Why?  In the story he &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;smells&lt;/span&gt; Jack.  Right.  More likely he found his wife in bed in the middle of the afternoon for no good reason and &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;smelled &lt;/span&gt;Jack alright.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jack escapes of course.  And with some cash to boot.  This is way better than lifting skateboards rich kids can't bother to put in the garage.  So what does Jack do next?  Why he goes right back there.  He and Dru have lots more fun and this time Jack pinches some credit cards before exiting stage bedroom window.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Third time's a charm though.  This time, it isn't Dru's husband who catches our lovebirds and threatens to spill the -er beans.  It's the maid.  Remember the maid?  Yep.  Thursday's her day off so Jack and Dru spill out of the bedroom and on to the living room bear rug, the dining table, the kitchen floor.  That's about where the maid finds them.  She's earning her own little bit of cash.  All she needs is one good photo and wife number 3 is out the door just in time for maid number 6 to become wife number 4.  If only she had turned off the auto flash, she might have gotten clean away.  But she didn't so she didn't.  Jack caught her and, in the way of 'if it can go wrong, it will go wrong', he barely had her tied up when the big man came home.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jack ran for the kitchen door but it was a bit tricky with a struggling maid and no shoes.  Plus the bitch kept shrieking and shrieking.  The giant crashed through the kitchen door wagging a big gun.  Jack threw the maid in his general direction just in time for her to catch a bullet.  Jack ran out the back door and around the side, tripping over the woodpile, scrabbling to regain his feet.  He was truly frantic.  What was he going to do!  He had bare moments before he got caught and he knew what would happen if he got caught.  If the giant had smelled him, he could feel the hot stink of the giant rolling out to fill the world.  This time it was going to be bad, real bad.  His hand touched something smooth, straight, wooden.  An axe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right.  Wrong.  Rich.  Poor.  Choices made and fates met.  And in the lie we read as children it was all because of the magic in the beans.  Sure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/3941392252728969955-909846350445565790?l=westauburnroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/feeds/909846350445565790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/magic-and-beans.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/909846350445565790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/909846350445565790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/magic-and-beans.html' title='Magic and Beans'/><author><name>Terry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786071053600210715</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TRdeR3457UI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gOClB2YvbGg/S220/IMG_4442.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYjhFaF685I/AAAAAAAAABw/IE8Li1G43iQ/s72-c/Kids+Art.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3941392252728969955.post-5902606609181568831</id><published>2009-02-01T23:36:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T20:01:23.122-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fairytalez'/><title type='text'>Making Brownies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYZ4n7lMqPI/AAAAAAAAABo/TJNe2P89KHs/s1600-h/Making+Brownies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYZ4n7lMqPI/AAAAAAAAABo/TJNe2P89KHs/s320/Making+Brownies.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298054639051909362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm trying to get past the bad zen and back into the groove of just letting the words happen.  It should be simple, right?  It used to be.  Brownies are simple too.  Just chocolate, butter, sugar, eggs and flour.  There might be a little salt too.  I'd have to check to be certain.  Still, if you want try your hand at baking, brownies are as easy as it gets.  Tess and Zander aren't having any trouble.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This weekend has been simple too.  Lots of shifting and (more!) shredding.  In the great push to ready my two unoccupied bedroom for occupancy, I found yet another paper stash chock full of offers for credit cards (those were the days, right?) and bank statements and bills.  It took me the entire run of my On Demand stash to reduce all of that paper to little curls and shreds....let's pause for a moment to thank Sarah and Jesse for hauling it all to the school's recycling bin....moving on....Admidst the tree carcasses I did manage to find a few gems.  I found 2 of my Lakeshore High School report cards.  I also found 2 books of stamps, one was dollar stamps and the other was 37cent Love stamps.  My best find was a rough draft of Princess Tessa and the Mysterious Missing Frog.  It starts like this...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Once upon a time there was a little girl named Tessa .  Tessa had a magical frog named Buttercup that the Desk Fairy had given her.  Tessa loved Buttercup and Buttercup loved Tessa.  The only problem was Buttercup would sometimes disappear for a very long time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am sure you would like to read more about Tessa and Buttercup.  I know I would.  I should really finish that story.  Tess and I worked the start out together.  Tessa decides to ask the Desk Fairy how to find Buttercup.  The thing is Tess has to &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;find &lt;/span&gt;the Desk Fairy.  She has to look in all of the mysterious places in her house.  When I was little there were lots of mysterious places in my house....under the bed, in the back of the corner cabinet, behind the furnace.  It only seems natural that Tess would find the Desk Fairy in one of those places.  But she doesn't.  Turns out the DF likes light and warm breezy air stirred by a southern wind.  Not what you generally find in Michigan.  But most fairies will stop by for a visit on the promise of warm chocolate brownies and cold milk. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you think that's what Tess and Zander are doing?  Making brownies for the Desk Fairy?  I'll just bet they are.  And when she shows up, Tess will sit down with her and share a cup of panzy tea and the two of them will work out together just how to save Buttercup from a great calamity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Zander, it seems, is not actually part of this quest.  He has gone in search of a desperately hungry Darcy the dragon.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Technical Notes:  In the grand scheme of blogging this post would be peppered with links.  Links to a scan of my report card, to the .pdf of Tess's story and the .pdf of Zander's.  Sadly my scanner is currently refusing to perform this function and Tess's story isn't finished and Zander's story is stuck on another drive.  I need my own Desk Fairy.  I am sure she'll show up.  After all, where do you think Tess and Zander got the recipe?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/3941392252728969955-5902606609181568831?l=westauburnroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5902606609181568831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/making-brownies.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/5902606609181568831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/5902606609181568831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/making-brownies.html' title='Making Brownies'/><author><name>Terry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786071053600210715</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TRdeR3457UI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gOClB2YvbGg/S220/IMG_4442.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYZ4n7lMqPI/AAAAAAAAABo/TJNe2P89KHs/s72-c/Making+Brownies.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3941392252728969955.post-4232304216420919239</id><published>2009-01-30T00:20:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T20:02:04.942-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='badzen'/><title type='text'>Falling in Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYKOP-_z4YI/AAAAAAAAABg/FQct3EMgJj4/s1600-h/Jumping+Around.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 243px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYKOP-_z4YI/AAAAAAAAABg/FQct3EMgJj4/s320/Jumping+Around.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296952517000946050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;....All Over Again&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since no one (and you know who you are) answered their phones this morning, I spent some time thinking about you.  I confess I don't remember things in sharp detail.  I can't tell you when Noah ate the Sudafed or Sarah drew on the wall or Carol boiled the fish.  I know those things happened.  If I had a calculator and a calendar and a day or two, I might be able to narrow it down to the year but that's as far as it goes.  And don't even ask if your dad had a beard at the time or the name of my favorite show.  That is all lost, discarded along the way, wrappers tossed in the the trash at some gas station in Kentucky.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What I do remember is how I felt about you.  Not the oft proclaimed parental maunderings of pride or frustration or fear.  I had those feelings but they were not about &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you.  &lt;/span&gt;All of that was just a &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;reflection &lt;/span&gt;of me that I tacked your face to.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is a point in every relationship when the other side of the equation comes into focus, when you see the person as they are without &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;your&lt;/span&gt; hopes, without &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;your&lt;/span&gt; prayers, without &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;your&lt;/span&gt; if onlys.  It's not always easy to catch that moment.  Be patient.  Pay attention.  It will come quietly, a flicker of true light at the edge of the horizon, just beyond the crowds and noise and smoke and mirrors.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember you by this light, as you were on the way to becoming who you are.  And that is when I find myself falling in love all over again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/3941392252728969955-4232304216420919239?l=westauburnroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4232304216420919239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/01/falling-in-love.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/4232304216420919239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/4232304216420919239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/01/falling-in-love.html' title='Falling in Love'/><author><name>Terry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786071053600210715</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TRdeR3457UI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gOClB2YvbGg/S220/IMG_4442.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYKOP-_z4YI/AAAAAAAAABg/FQct3EMgJj4/s72-c/Jumping+Around.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3941392252728969955.post-6757367748193756807</id><published>2009-01-29T00:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T00:55:01.531-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Family Rocks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYE6Pk6QbwI/AAAAAAAAABY/uWPknyuUX24/s1600-h/100_0664.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYE6Pk6QbwI/AAAAAAAAABY/uWPknyuUX24/s320/100_0664.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296578676044885762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is, essentially, a prayer and not a good one at that.  Rocks can hurt after all.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First things first.  The artist is Tess, the work carries its own title.  It was created in December of 2008 using eraseable markers and a whiteboard, a present from Noah and Abby.  I am not certain who exactly is in the picture.  Let's vote for Zander, Tess and Abby.  Maybe that's Momer on the skateboard or maybe it's Tess gliding into the foreground.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today every piece of tech I touched required a push, shove and kick to get it moving.  The barcodes on my labels decided to print off the edge.  My chart servers wandered in the datashare desert looking for templates.  Even my Mac decided capital letters were a precious commodity and would only let me use them on the first letter of any given word.  If I wanted to type HELL(um)O I had to turn on the caps lock key for the ELL.  My remote desktop lost its connection to the network.  Even Stewart's laptop decided the line out port was just a pretty little hole drilled in the front.  I could probably use it for an incense holder.  It's certainly no good for headphones.  It's very probable this post will explode into shards of broken letters the moment before I push the Publish key.  Who knows?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today's photo....I haven't forgotten it....is for Carol and Sarah and all you sisters out there who are bound by family but don't really understand what to do about it.  Nothing is so bad you need to be burdened by anger or guilt (you each know to whom I am speaking).  Nothing lasts forever.  The best (and the worst) part about all of this is the more you remember it, the less true the memory will be.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's skip forward 20 years to hmmmm.....Matt's birthday party.  It's this time of year so it could happen.  There we all are hanging out by the indoor pool (this is my fantasy), kids doing all the work.  Maybe there's a great grandkid being passed around.  Maybe someone's pregnant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's all it will take to drag out the 'Baby Shower That Wasn't' story.  Carol will remember it as a series of failed promises.  Sarah will remember it as a party where she had everything under control except the invitations.  I will remember it as....well I'll keep that to myself.  I am in enough trouble already for putting this much in writing.  To you future daughters I will say 'Pick your battles like you pick your friends.'  (Kind of a little Zen thing there.)  The most interesting part of the conversation will be what your dad says.  It's a guarantee that it will be something that sets everyone off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Moving on to more interesting things....Let's record for posterity 'Zannie's Counting Song':&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One, Two, Three&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Look at me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Four, Five, Six&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm doin' my kicks&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seven, Eight, Nine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm jumpin' fine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Get to Ten &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And we'll start again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love, Luck and Lollipops to All.....:)TerrySue&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3941392252728969955-6757367748193756807?l=westauburnroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6757367748193756807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/01/this-is-essentially-prayer-and-not-good.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/6757367748193756807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/6757367748193756807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/01/this-is-essentially-prayer-and-not-good.html' title='My Family Rocks'/><author><name>Terry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786071053600210715</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TRdeR3457UI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gOClB2YvbGg/S220/IMG_4442.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/SYE6Pk6QbwI/AAAAAAAAABY/uWPknyuUX24/s72-c/100_0664.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3941392252728969955.post-7885775054421296997</id><published>2009-01-27T19:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T19:27:44.993-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='badpoetry'/><title type='text'>Finding You</title><content type='html'>I looked a long time, across time, below and above time.  I looked in many places, where you weren't, where you hadn't been, where you would never be.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Upstairs the dogs are barking, lots of nails scraping on wood, an occasional thump.  If you were up there, I am pretty sure you'd let me know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Downstairs is the hiss of the furnace starting, the background music to NCIS, the click of keys.  If you were down here, I'd see you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I find you, I'll know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/3941392252728969955-7885775054421296997?l=westauburnroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/feeds/7885775054421296997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/01/finding-you.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/7885775054421296997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3941392252728969955/posts/default/7885775054421296997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://westauburnroad.blogspot.com/2009/01/finding-you.html' title='Finding You'/><author><name>Terry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786071053600210715</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvGu9Tut0OA/TRdeR3457UI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gOClB2YvbGg/S220/IMG_4442.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
