<?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-7475912938367506064</id><updated>2011-07-07T21:42:57.671-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Through Jen's Eyes</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>35</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-1593459308549215894</id><published>2010-02-19T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T15:10:49.109-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing Catch Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Time and Tide wait for no man, but time always stands still for a woman of thirty.&lt;br /&gt;- Robert Frost&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I have officially decided that I am a&amp;nbsp;terrible blogger...well maybe just lacking in consistency. I hate making "New Year's Resolutions", as I feel that I would like to make continual change and progress&amp;nbsp;through out the year. So, I cannot guarantee that I will be any better, but hopefully you will be able to be surprised by a post or two every now and then =). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A ton has transpired since I blogged last--Kary submitted his paperwork to the state to get his license, I got laid off from my job (NOT a bummer), Christmas, New Year's, my big 3-0, and a new job for me! The boys have been doing well in school and Noah is thoroughly enjoying Junior Jazz Basketball. Brynley is almost 5 months old and growing like a weed! I forgot how fast they lose the "newborn-ness"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some of Brynley's growth stats:&lt;br /&gt;October 7, 2009: 8 lbs 10 oz, 21" long&lt;br /&gt;Two Month Check-up: 12 lbs 15 oz, 24" long&lt;br /&gt;Four Month Check-up: 15 lbs 10 oz, 26" long&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brynley loves to smile, pet or kick&amp;nbsp;Kyia (surprisingly, Kyia doesn't mind it), roll over from back to front, take baths (she NEVER cries), go swimming (while Daddy holds her), suck on the first two fingers on her LEFT hand, chill out in her bouncy chair, suck on spoons, talk, and wiggle. Brynley has brought such joy to our family. Noah and Blake adore her--they are always advocating for her to make sure that we know what she needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for my new job, I am working for a company that provides emergency medical transportion on fixed-wing aircraft. I now have great health insurance for my family (I feel safe now), as well as other benefits. The company is family-owned and operated, with the help of many other talented people. I feel blessed to have been given the opportunity to learn and&amp;nbsp;grow (I will be trained as an EMT this summer as part of my training), and be able help provide for our family. I miss the time away from my family, but&amp;nbsp;Kary and I&amp;nbsp;feel that this is a necessary adventure in&amp;nbsp;our&amp;nbsp;lives, and I have felt&amp;nbsp;as though a huge burden has been lifted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-1593459308549215894?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1593459308549215894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=1593459308549215894&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1593459308549215894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1593459308549215894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2010/02/playing-catch-up.html' title='Playing Catch Up'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-8850612178416505267</id><published>2009-11-04T09:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T09:00:00.995-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mi Familia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;--Jane Howard&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;With the recent addition of Brynley, I wanted pictures! Not only of Brynley as a newborn, but pictures of our family as a whole. These pictures were taken by Molly Theurer (check out Molly's photography blog &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://mollymariephoto.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;HERE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;) on Saturday, October 24, 2009. Molly is so talented in what she does! I absolutely love the pictures.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4VmxFP1I/AAAAAAAAAOs/-Z8OxqCnHb4/s1600-h/Gedge_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4VmxFP1I/AAAAAAAAAOs/-Z8OxqCnHb4/s640/Gedge_1.jpg" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4Y4vrwqI/AAAAAAAAAO0/JcA69uUEoAs/s1600-h/Gedge_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4Y4vrwqI/AAAAAAAAAO0/JcA69uUEoAs/s640/Gedge_2.jpg" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4acpGEnI/AAAAAAAAAO8/mnN00d5U9GE/s1600-h/Gedge_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4acpGEnI/AAAAAAAAAO8/mnN00d5U9GE/s640/Gedge_3.jpg" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4cfbbUkI/AAAAAAAAAPE/y-jSuv46LCc/s1600-h/Gedge_8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4cfbbUkI/AAAAAAAAAPE/y-jSuv46LCc/s640/Gedge_8.jpg" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4mUA_ZcI/AAAAAAAAAPs/6QD-TnNgx-4/s640/Gedge_14.jpg" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4eHZygfI/AAAAAAAAAPM/hqLpgFreR2s/s1600-h/Gedge_10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4eHZygfI/AAAAAAAAAPM/hqLpgFreR2s/s640/Gedge_10.jpg" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4f6YHIII/AAAAAAAAAPU/z-wt_OYGgSE/s1600-h/Gedge_11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4f6YHIII/AAAAAAAAAPU/z-wt_OYGgSE/s640/Gedge_11.jpg" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4ifatfdI/AAAAAAAAAPc/6LHccd_iuSw/s1600-h/Gedge_12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4ifatfdI/AAAAAAAAAPc/6LHccd_iuSw/s640/Gedge_12.jpg" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4kTUdT0I/AAAAAAAAAPk/bnHDfWqlOao/s1600-h/Gedge_13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4kTUdT0I/AAAAAAAAAPk/bnHDfWqlOao/s640/Gedge_13.jpg" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&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/7475912938367506064-8850612178416505267?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/8850612178416505267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=8850612178416505267&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/8850612178416505267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/8850612178416505267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2009/11/mi-familia.html' title='Mi Familia'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SvD4VmxFP1I/AAAAAAAAAOs/-Z8OxqCnHb4/s72-c/Gedge_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-4551089927049787442</id><published>2009-11-03T20:05:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T20:15:56.098-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can You Spell Miss-iss-ippi?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;"Nicknames stick to people, and the most ridiculous are the most adhesive."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;--Thomas Chandler Haliburton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Can you please not make fun...Kary and I had, what I like to call, "Speller's Remorse". So, the Monday after getting out of the hospital, we went to the hospital to attempt to change the baby's name. I was worried about missing the paperwork on it's journey to being official. Here is the official name:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;strike&gt;Brynnlee Jenna Gedge&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;is now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Brynley Jenna Gedge&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Why the change? Every time I went to write Brynley's name, I never managed to write all the double letters. Kary equated it to spelling "Mississippi"--what a funny guy ;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&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/7475912938367506064-4551089927049787442?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4551089927049787442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=4551089927049787442&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/4551089927049787442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/4551089927049787442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2009/11/can-you-spell-miss-iss-ippi.html' title='Can You Spell Miss-iss-ippi?'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-8767207875546808859</id><published>2009-10-10T14:50:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T19:49:12.026-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothin' Says Lovin' Like a...Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"A baby will make love stronger, days shorter, nights longer, bankroll smaller, home happier, clothes shabbier, the past forgotten, and the future worth living for." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;--Author Unknown&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Kary and Jen are pleased to announce the arrival of Noah and Blake's little sister: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Brynnlee Jenna Gedge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Born: October 7, 2009&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Weight: 8 lbs. 10 oz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Length: 21"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391506231084342274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/StJ6WgwWXAI/AAAAAAAAANY/9GP56hmFUIo/s400/DSC04086.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391514050115326306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/StKBdo6m0WI/AAAAAAAAANg/95FtaKl57kU/s320/DSC04075.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Brynnlee sleeping, with Daddy doing the same in the background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391514077827714354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/StKBfQJwTTI/AAAAAAAAAN4/f3tuCnNQjOU/s320/DSC04103.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;All the important statistics =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391514059403021762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/StKBeLg9zcI/AAAAAAAAANo/9lcTLfHSaPs/s320/DSC04083.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Brynnlee is taking lessons on how to sleep without distraction.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391514065713531458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/StKBejBgikI/AAAAAAAAANw/tqgTMB6Y5JE/s320/DSC04090.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Our room with a wonderful view...and down below the roar of Life Flight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391514086623848786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/StKBfw66qVI/AAAAAAAAAOA/MRG6XpHef34/s320/DSC04112.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Lovely little baby feet and toes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391514342886965074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/StKBurkzf1I/AAAAAAAAAOI/rEZTw1MmPSE/s320/DSC04108.JPG" border="0" /&gt;The full scale picture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;As a side story: When Kary and I first told Noah and Blake that we were going to have a baby, Noah and Blake exclaimed, "Mom. The baby has to be a girl. We already have a brother." Matter of fact. Straight to the point. Our response was, "Well, we hope you are okay with a boy too. You can't exactly pick what kind of baby you get." Needless to say, when we went in for the ultrasound in June, and the tech told us it was a girl, the boys were thrilled! They have been looking forward to meeting Brynnlee ever since.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Shortly after Brynnlee arrived, I let the boys' dad know so he could tell the boys of their new sister's arrival. Noah and Blake were so excited, their dad called and asked if it would be okay if they came to visit right then. Noah and Blake were talking and moving a mile a minute. They were so excited they visited with us until 11:30pm! Yes, it was a school night, but their dad and I thought it was better they get acquainted with Brynnlee and get their wiggles out, than wait until the next day and have no focus at school. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;It was wonderful to have the boys there and even better that their dad was able to take the first video of the boys and Brynn together. I would post it here, but the file is too big, so here is a link to see the video in its entirety. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-vy_WFhOLDs"&gt;Noah and Blake Meet Brynnlee&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Hope you enjoy the pictures. More to come. Thanks to all who have sent their congratulations and well wishes!!! Love to all!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-8767207875546808859?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/8767207875546808859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=8767207875546808859&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/8767207875546808859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/8767207875546808859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2009/10/nothin-says-lovin-like-apart-2.html' title='Nothin&apos; Says Lovin&apos; Like a...Part 2'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/StJ6WgwWXAI/AAAAAAAAANY/9GP56hmFUIo/s72-c/DSC04086.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-7684080314025233628</id><published>2009-10-08T12:46:00.011-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T19:21:25.362-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a girl</title><content type='html'>This entire story is based from the perspective of Kary, the dad and husband. Mommy is currently sitting in her hospital bed resting after all the work. Okay, so here is what happened.....&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, October 7th, 2009, I had just finished playing a game of Disk Golf. I called Jenny Jen to see what she was up to and how work was going. Turns out her contractions were really bad and she was about to go to the hospital. I finished up some stuff at work, and after picking up the boys from school at 3:17 pm and dropping them off at their dad's house, I went to the hospital. Once there I found Jenny Jen (my wife) and Jen (Jen's coworker) in the delivery room. Jen took off after they gave the soon to be mommy a shot (I was waiting out of the room). I then came in the room and we waited for the little one to come out. If you want all the gory details you should ask the Mommy, Daddy was focusing on the computer screen so he wouldn't fall out of his chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lets fast forward to the good part...... She pooped (spelling correct) out. She is just perfect. The little baby has everything, a head, body, five fingers, and one foot (oh wait, there is another one), I mean two feet. Yeah, it is all there. Little baby girl weighed 8 lbs 10 oz. She was born at exactly 8:41 pm, 21 inches long (that is huge if you compare that to the normal size fish the boys have been catching), and lets not forget her head was 12 inches around (plenty of room for the brain she inherited). In the end labor was about three hours long, I think someone said mommy only had to push 6 times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of you may notice that baby girl has yet to be named. I have been calling her Haylee, mostly because she has a note above her plastic box with Dr. Hurley's name on it (close enough right). She has no name because we can't come up with anything every one loves, side note, Jen hasn't picked one yet. Through all this I have decided that if men were responsible for the naming of all children this world would be full of Adams and Eves. So much easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the photos and videos. Please direct all questions and comments to Mommy (previously known as Jenny Jen). Daddy was focusing on trying to not focus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Part 1 of 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-6acf2fa608b2c8ba" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" 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bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v14.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D6acf2fa608b2c8ba%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330033454%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D4E31F3860F1FE1CB7D0331CDB8512EFC1F60FD5D.84AD5945FF084F138152A508D1ED981417B4D00D%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D6acf2fa608b2c8ba%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DJHL3hlpGXChlVrRTdAnGRWV1wOI&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Part 2 of 2&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-a36a818d2edaecf2" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da36a818d2edaecf2%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330033454%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D40A6FEDAE078EDFFD3EEC8592266A3E6E4D03630.F057052F99519464BADE0465BFC132A7FBCD7DB%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da36a818d2edaecf2%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dun311IYc3QcvW4cQgOoDZzVvlGg&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da36a818d2edaecf2%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330033454%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D40A6FEDAE078EDFFD3EEC8592266A3E6E4D03630.F057052F99519464BADE0465BFC132A7FBCD7DB%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da36a818d2edaecf2%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dun311IYc3QcvW4cQgOoDZzVvlGg&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-7684080314025233628?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7684080314025233628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=7684080314025233628&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/7684080314025233628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/7684080314025233628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-girl.html' title='It&apos;s a girl'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-5156068768266212917</id><published>2009-09-27T21:04:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T21:31:22.673-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Catch of the Day</title><content type='html'>September 12, 2009&lt;br /&gt;The alarm reads 5:00 am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Noah: Hey Kary! (Pause) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kaarrryyyy&lt;/span&gt;!?!&lt;br /&gt;Kary: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Yeahhhh&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Noah: Just one more hour until we go fishing!&lt;br /&gt;Kary: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Mmm&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is Saturday morning. People are supposed to do something called "sleeping in" on the weekend, right? Not in my house. Noah and Blake must have some sort of internal clock that only wakes them up on a weekend early enough to beat both Kary and I out of bed. Is it because we are going to an amusement park? No. Is it because we are going swimming? No. It is because the night crawlers have been dug out of the ground, freshly baked grocery store donuts are calling Noah and Blake's name from a mile away, and the dirty canal down the road has beady-eyed fish waiting for an easy snack...I mean hook? I am VERY sure it is the latter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys love to go fishing! Now, one would hope that they are practicing "Catch and Release" as they take after their mother in the "Hate-to-eat-fish" department. I was under the impression that this was the case, until Kary showed me all the pictures from the fishing adventures. You will see what I mean as you scroll through the pictures posted...in my personal opinion, there is something "fishy" about the "Catch and Release" method going on at that canal. The boys had tons of fun, Kary got to bait lots of hooks with icky, creepy worms and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Kyia&lt;/span&gt; (the little dog) got to lay there and be lazy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386353111323858882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SsArndtHV8I/AAAAAAAAANQ/PQtFdfTm2Y0/s400/DSCN5200.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386353100033633506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SsArmzpULOI/AAAAAAAAANI/qIZYL8cjUss/s400/DSCN5199.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386353091301920946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SsArmTHg0LI/AAAAAAAAANA/WhYSqHDCCy0/s400/DSCN5208.JPG" border="0" /&gt;September 26, 2009&lt;br /&gt;Again, the same scenario plays out...boys and Kary awake at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;o'dark&lt;/span&gt; and early (otherwise known as 6:00 am). The same plan applies...donuts, worms and stinky, smelly fish. The fish are biting and flopping. The dog has dug herself a hole and planted her body in it. Kary has no time to rest as every few minutes there is a fish to be reeled in, a worm to be put on a hook, or a picture of a catch to be taken. This was a day of plenty. &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386353078094104962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SsArlh6hiYI/AAAAAAAAAM4/wr6z7SObtF0/s400/DSCN5448.JPG" border="0" /&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/7475912938367506064-5156068768266212917?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/5156068768266212917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=5156068768266212917&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/5156068768266212917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/5156068768266212917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2009/09/september-12-2009-alarm-reads-500-am.html' title='Catch of the Day'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SsArndtHV8I/AAAAAAAAANQ/PQtFdfTm2Y0/s72-c/DSCN5200.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-4870799399252021081</id><published>2009-09-21T20:06:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T21:37:43.905-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to School for an Edu-ma-cation</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mom: "Blake, what did you have for lunch today?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Blake (age 6): "I didn't eat lunch. I only had, like, ten fourths of my grilled cheese." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Noah (age 7): "Blake. That means you ate the whole thing. Duh."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After a long summer, Blake and Noah returned to Beacon Heights Elementary School for another year of academics, friends, and fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The boys learned who their teachers were on Saturday, August 22. Rob and I took the boys to Back to School Day on Monday, August 24 where they were able to check out their new classrooms, meet their teachers, pick a seat in class, and see old friends. I don't know why, but I was nervous about the new school year to begin. Noah and Blake had such wonderful teachers last year, I wasn't sure how I would feel about their new teachers. As nervous as I was, the boys acted as though they were going to Disneyland! They were running, skipping, and talking a mile a minute. I can only do the latter at this point, as I am about to birth a large bun that has been baking in the oven. This posed a problem. I could barely keep up with the boys as they ran into the school, but I managed to have laid out the itinerary before we got out of the car so I knew right where to look for them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ms. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Buttars&lt;/span&gt; class was first on the list. Blake was more than eager to meet Ms. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Buttars&lt;/span&gt;, who transferred from another elementary school down the road. We filled out her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;questionnaire&lt;/span&gt;, found all the important locations in the classroom and then it was on to Noah's class. Noah ran as fast as he could to his classroom. He was bouncy, all smiles. As soon as he set foot in Mrs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Mortensen's&lt;/span&gt; class (she likes the kids to call her Emily), he was too tough for school. That change in personality made me smile and laugh. He was such a good actor, Emily asked if he liked school. If she could have only seen Noah run and jump through the halls like Laura &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ingalls&lt;/span&gt; on the post-credits of Little House on the Prairie! Noah had his picture taken, chose a seat, explored the room and talked with old friends, while Rob and I filled out paperwork and requests for volunteerism. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;School started the next day, Tuesday, August 25. Here are some shots of my "excited-to-be-back-at-school" boys.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384127456154645570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SrhDZSGGdEI/AAAAAAAAALY/dMQkN3T0hE4/s320/DSC04052.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384127468069966914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SrhDZ-e71EI/AAAAAAAAALg/NSAk6sDUfsg/s320/DSC04053.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384127475401999762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SrhDaZzBxZI/AAAAAAAAALo/TGoaUFW8zic/s320/DSC04057.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384127493504976114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SrhDbdPHRPI/AAAAAAAAAL4/jLNo2GIo-EM/s320/DSC04069.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-4870799399252021081?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4870799399252021081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=4870799399252021081&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/4870799399252021081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/4870799399252021081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2009/09/back-to-school-for-edu-ma-cation.html' title='Back to School for an Edu-ma-cation'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SrhDZSGGdEI/AAAAAAAAALY/dMQkN3T0hE4/s72-c/DSC04052.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-1744011683999830509</id><published>2009-03-29T14:30:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T14:41:04.724-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothin' Says Lovin' Like a...</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Sam/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/Sc_a5M2mctI/AAAAAAAAAKo/dlMynFWCzT4/s1600-h/Bun%2Bin%2Bthe%2BOven.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/Sc_a5M2mctI/AAAAAAAAAKo/dlMynFWCzT4/s400/Bun%2Bin%2Bthe%2BOven.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318710361185481426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instructions for Cooking:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preheat Oven to: Married and in LOVE!&lt;br /&gt;Cook at 98.6 degrees for 38-42 weeks as determined by the bun's preference.&lt;br /&gt;Bun removes itself from the oven when good and ready, but this one should be done by early October.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If further instructions are needed, please Google "Bun in the Oven".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Sunday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Kary and Jen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-1744011683999830509?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1744011683999830509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=1744011683999830509&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1744011683999830509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1744011683999830509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2009/03/nothin-says-lovin.html' title='Nothin&apos; Says Lovin&apos; Like a...'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/Sc_a5M2mctI/AAAAAAAAAKo/dlMynFWCzT4/s72-c/Bun%2Bin%2Bthe%2BOven.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-1057406122571303954</id><published>2009-02-08T13:18:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T15:32:16.547-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love and Marriage...but no Internet</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;"In marriage, each partner is to be an encourager rather than a critic, a forgiver rather than a collector of hurts, an enabler rather than a reformer."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--H. Norman Wright and Gary J. Oliver &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="note_header"&gt;It has been forever since I have blogged, I know. But how can you possibly blog when you don't have the internet? I just barely got the internet yesterday morning, so here I am!&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;No Internet=No blogging&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No Internet=No way to check out wedding pictures, thus no way to post any&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No Internet=No sanity for Jen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Oh, alright. The last one is not true. I have my sanity. Do not worry about that. I just got married and I am happier than ever! Our new little family is thriving, although I am having a hard time getting used to having a baby again...that baby would be Kyia, the little dog. I am just not used to having to look down to ground level so as not to step on her. Sad for the dog, but I can't complain. I love being married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SY9cnm0kIFI/AAAAAAAAAKA/2Y714rOhuGA/s1600-h/The+Family.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SY9cnm0kIFI/AAAAAAAAAKA/2Y714rOhuGA/s400/The+Family.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300557121944035410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The wedding was great! Kary and I agree that it was so much more relaxed than our first weddings. Uncle Bob and Aunt Joni were great hosts for the event and Joni, Rachel, Mackenzie and Andrew made wonderful refreshments! Everything was perfect. My second dad, Bishop Jesse Judd, performed the ceremony on the deck in the backyard at dusk. We had many family and friends in attendance. The weather was not typical for a January evening, warmer in fact. The boys were the ring bearers, even if they were holding them in their shirt pockets. After the ceremony, hugs and well wishes, it was into the house for the Hot Chocolate Bar, fruit kabobs, little smokies, meatballs, chicken salad sandwiches, salsa and chips, artichoke dip, tortellini and sausage kabobs, and many other yummy foods. The company was amazing! My parents were able to meet my adopted family, the Judds, as well as my brother of 10+ years, Ben. I was able to meet some of Kary's friends for the first time, and Bob and Joni were able to put faces with names of people Kary and I had invited. Again, it was a marvelous evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a funny story...when my Bishop arrived at Bob and Joni's, he asked if we had our marriage license. I told him where it was. After we took our pictures, I made sure that he had located the license. He said he had. So, imagine my surprise when, after everyone had departed the get-together, I look in the envelope with the marriage license paperwork in it and find that NONE of the paperwork had been filled in! So, I texted Debbie Judd, Bishop Judd's wife, something along the lines of: "So, um, the Bishop didn't fill out our paperwork. Are we even legal?" She replied: "Um, no. Just kidding. Swing by real quick and he will fill it out." Phew! We drove over and walked in to the laughter of my friend, Bishop Judd's daughter, Molly, laughing at my previously sent text. In the end, it gave everyone a good laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not had a chance to download the pictures from the wedding yet, but here are two links to the pictures taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the link for the pictures that my friend's brother, &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/pugnugget/sets/72157612783390837/show/"&gt;Shaun&lt;/a&gt;, took. And this is the link for the pictures that my friend &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/molly.judd/WeddingOfJen?feat=email#slideshow"&gt;Molly&lt;/a&gt;, took. Enjoy!&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/7475912938367506064-1057406122571303954?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1057406122571303954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=1057406122571303954&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1057406122571303954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1057406122571303954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2009/02/love-and-marriagebut-no-internet.html' title='Love and Marriage...but no Internet'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SY9cnm0kIFI/AAAAAAAAAKA/2Y714rOhuGA/s72-c/The+Family.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-4551925104545687549</id><published>2009-01-10T09:34:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T18:44:09.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding? As You Wish...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Mawage. Mawage is wot bwings us togeder tooday."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--The Impressive Clergyman, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Princess Bride&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who are interested...here are the wedding details!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Who: Kary and Jen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When: Saturday, January 17, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Time: Dusk (You can get there around 5pm)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Where: The Tavern de Leiker, Ogden, UT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are excited to finally tie the knot! Now all we need are our friends and family to join us for our awesome day, or night ;)! If you plan on coming let me know via email (cagrl127@gmail.com) or comment on this here post so we can plan accordingly! I can also send you the address and directions (I don't want to post them online for the whole world to see, if you know what I mean).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have opted for a fun, casual experience. Kary and I will NOT be dressing up, so come in your comfy-est jeans (or whatever you fancy). We will have an awesmoe Hot Chocolate Bar and other yummy refreshments so come prepared for great food and engaging company!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-4551925104545687549?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4551925104545687549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=4551925104545687549&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/4551925104545687549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/4551925104545687549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2009/01/wedding-as-you-wish.html' title='Wedding? As You Wish...'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-5165653654253523121</id><published>2009-01-04T15:40:00.009-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T18:03:03.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Newest Gedge</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="body"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="body"  style="font-size:180%;"&gt;A real decision is measured by the fact that you've taken a new action. If there's no action, you haven't truly decided.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Tony Robbins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="bodybold"&gt;Kary and I have taken action and found an apartment in the &lt;a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=cottonwood+heights+salt+lake+city&amp;amp;ie=utf-8&amp;amp;oe=utf-8&amp;amp;rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&amp;amp;client=firefox-a&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;sa=X&amp;amp;oi=geocode_result&amp;amp;resnum=1&amp;amp;ct=title"&gt;Cottonwood Heights&lt;/a&gt; area of the Salt Lake Valley. Thus, it is official. We will be getting married and I will officially be changing my last name on Saturday, January 17, 2009! In fact we went ring shopping last night and took care of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bling&lt;/span&gt; factor ;). We are excited to get married and move on with our lives, together. We have both had many life experiences that have brought us to where we are today. We have learned many lessons in the past and look forward to creating a life, home and family together now, and in the years to come. (And don't worry, Noah and Blake LOVE Kary! In fact, on a trip to &lt;a href="https://www.hoglezoo.org/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hogle&lt;/span&gt; Zoo&lt;/a&gt;, in October, Noah asked Kary, "So when are you going to marry my mom?" Yes, it's a true story!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We aren't quite sure where in the Salt Lake area we will be getting married just yet, but you are all invited to the wedding ceremony and the Open House (or whatever you want to call it). Not sure what time yet, but the Open House will be at the Tavern &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Leiker&lt;/span&gt; (or in other words, Uncle Bob and Aunt Joni's house in Ogden, UT). When we figure out the particulars, I will blog it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the mean time, I will entertain any and all suggestions for places to get married EXCEPT for any chapel that has the words &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Las&lt;/span&gt; Vegas in the address.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love to all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-5165653654253523121?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/5165653654253523121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=5165653654253523121&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/5165653654253523121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/5165653654253523121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2009/01/newest-gedge.html' title='The Newest Gedge'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-7368833711772683721</id><published>2008-12-28T22:44:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T23:19:36.948-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, Did You Want to Leave a Comment? Good Luck With That.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Woo Wee!!!"&lt;br /&gt;--Jen Robinson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Has anyone been trying to leave a comment on my blog and you haven't been able to find the link to click on? Well. You are not alone. I have been on a three week quest to find it. Somewhere. Anywhere. But with no luck. Until tonight! If any of you are familiar with "lurking" (Lo...I know you are ;)), I have become an official Blogspot.com message board lurker. Why you may ask. BECAUSE! I have been dying to figure out how to enable the comment link back to its original state--before I had the urge to customize my blog. I have now fixed the problem I hope. I may just have to post a comment to break in the new excitement! If it wasn't almost 11pm, I'd probably run outside and yell to all my neighbors the step-by-step instructions on how to restore the comments link to their blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This, with the exception of spending the day with Kary, has been the highlight of my day! Sundays can be wonderful relaxing days. However, they have become one of the only days that Kary and I have daylight to spend with one another to drive around looking for a place to live. Salt Lake City. Expensive. Land of outrageous "Pet Deposits" and even more ridiculous "Pet Rent". So, for those of you cheering us on in the quest to find a place of our own, I would ask for you to pray for the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pray that Kary's Shih Tzu, Kyia, magically turns into a human.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pray that the landlords in the area decrease their rent.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pray that Kary and I BOTH get a raise. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;As I see it, I think that #1 &amp;amp; #3 are probably NOT going to happen. (And yes, WE ARE very grateful to even have jobs these days.) Thus, we will continue hoping that we are able to find someone, a landlord, or an apartment complex that is in dire need of great renters that have a cute dog and two totally handsome boys, all at an affordable price. Until then, we continue our search for a place close enough to the boys school, in a safe area, AND within a reasonable distance to &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Utah_County,_Utah"&gt;Happy Valley&lt;/a&gt;, where Kary works.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-7368833711772683721?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7368833711772683721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=7368833711772683721&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/7368833711772683721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/7368833711772683721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/12/oh-did-you-want-to-leave-comment-good.html' title='Oh, Did You Want to Leave a Comment? Good Luck With That.'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-2227894498765812522</id><published>2008-12-27T10:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T10:48:37.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is a Picture Worth a Thousand Words?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Life is your art. An open, aware heart is your camera. A oneness with your world is your film. Your bright eyes and easy smile is your museum."&lt;br /&gt;--Ansel Adams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So I was reading a friend's blog a few days ago. She had been "tagged" to post the fourth picture from the fourth folder on her computer. I love the idea of being tagged, because if I am being completely honest with you all, I sometimes have nothing exciting to blog about. The result of being tagged with specific instructions allows me the opportunity to either share the given information with you, or it gives me the jump start I need to get my own content idea. Well, I thought I would follow the instructions on the tag, when I got there this is the picture I found. I wish it was a close up, but I guess I can still tell the story ;).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282482864937909234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SU8mLYi2O_I/AAAAAAAAAHw/_bb26sPhb5Y/s320/DSC03378.JPG" border="0" /&gt;For those of you who have never met my kids with long hair, this would be Noah. This was taken in May 2007. He was 5 at the time...with a mom who thought she would let him decide the length of his hair. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;. It was cute for a while. Until it started taking as much shampoo to wash his hair as it takes to wash mine. He loved the longer hair. Why? I'm not really sure, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;everytime&lt;/span&gt; I bring up getting a hair cut, he says he wants to let it grow out. Yep. He proclaimed this last week. I'm not sure if he says this because he is already trying to keep up with the hair fad for boys of growing long wavy/curly hair (which he has neither type of hair...maybe I should break this to him gently) or if he just hates the sound of the clippers next to his ears. I should ask ;). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;As I was looking for the assigned picture, I ended up going through many other folders to see what treasures I could find. Here are some other pictures. These are from two folders around the same time as the picture above. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284522126584805682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SVZk4CLHeTI/AAAAAAAAAH4/2X_D6SqU9EU/s320/DSC03329.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Noah, I don't remember why you are crying, but this is the long hair I speak of. Too much shampoo needed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284522135920666162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SVZk4k89ZjI/AAAAAAAAAIA/I7mA_NtqP90/s320/DSC03333.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Blake (Or as I call him, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Bigs&lt;/span&gt;") with long hair also. Only about half as much shampoo required, but still too much.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284525807714509282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SVZoOTc1IeI/AAAAAAAAAIY/oWOp6Sb3lVg/s320/DSC03433.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The boys. This was after the South Ogden Annual Easter Egg Hunt in 2007. They decided it would be funny to race each other without being able to see where they were going. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284522149616219778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SVZk5X-O9oI/AAAAAAAAAII/WCcFsKHpkvo/s320/DSC03435.JPG" border="0" /&gt;...and this is how it ended up after they pulled themselves off their stomachs.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284522162979202738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SVZk6JwN5rI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/Z_Pz6PHYYGg/s320/DSC03426.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The boys with their dad.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-2227894498765812522?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/2227894498765812522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=2227894498765812522&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/2227894498765812522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/2227894498765812522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/12/life-is-your-art.html' title='Is a Picture Worth a Thousand Words?'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SU8mLYi2O_I/AAAAAAAAAHw/_bb26sPhb5Y/s72-c/DSC03378.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-5840978040634031503</id><published>2008-12-14T17:44:00.014-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T00:37:04.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On the Road Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Death, a friend that alone can bring the peace his treasures cannot purchase, and remove the pain his physicians cannot cure."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-Mortimer Collins&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Thursday began a road trip that was inevitable at some point. You never can tell when a friend or family member will pass to the next stage in life. But it seems no matter where we are in life, we are touched by the passing of loved ones, young, old and everything in between. My Gram, Adele Cecelia Leiker, passed peacefully in her sleep, on Tuesday morning, November 25, 2008.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279871874697840146" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 240px; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SUXffv7wxhI/AAAAAAAAAGw/uvITepDMRUI/s320/DSCN0288.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I came to know of the end of Gram's journey here on Earth early that morning. It was also the morning my parents and sister were due to come into town for the Thanksgiving holiday. I called my dad to inquire as to whether they would still be coming to visit. During the conversation, I quickly realized my father had not received word that his mom had passed. What I describe now is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I was in mid-conversation with my dad, when he said that his last update on Gram had been the Saturday prior, 4 days earlier. As soon as I heard this, I came to the realization that I was going to have to be the one to tell my dad that his mom had passed on. I told him. I could tell he was upset and we said our goodbyes. I wasn't sure if my parents would still come to Utah with this news, but about an hour later, my mom called and let me know they were on their way to the airport. During the week my family was here, there were many memories shared between my dad, Uncle Bob and Uncle Joe, two of my dad's nine siblings. I expected the news of Gram's passing to bring a somber feel to the week of Thanksgiving, however, I was pleasantly surprised to hear stories and fond memories from my father and uncles that I had never heard before. Arrangements were being made by all ten children, in regards to Gram's funeral arrangements.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Last week I was informed of the celebration of Gram's life. All family would meet and gather in Lancaster, CA for a funeral and graveside service on Saturday, December 13, 2008. Which brings me to the road trip I mentioned above. I was offered a seat in the Bob and Joni Leiker Taxi (also known as the Highlander) to get to the high desert of California. But early last week Kary expressed interest in going with so we decided to drive down. What an adventure! Our first road trip together. We left on Thursday night, pretty late. We made a couple quick stops and then we were on our way. We stopped a couple times to sleep before getting on our way before 8am. We stopped a few more times, as we had Kary's dog Kyia with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279872330213788802" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SUXf6Q3OjII/AAAAAAAAAG4/t-ixykRuHyk/s320/DSCN0261.JPG" border="0" /&gt; She had fun exploring the different areas we stopped at, always plunging her head into the dirt/sand/asphalt. What a trooper though! She is a great travel companion as is Kary. We had a great time, even though the GPS in the MDX sent us the long way...which caused concern about our fuel reserves...the low fuel light came on. I had planned the trip to the mile and gallon, thus knowing exactly where we would have to fill up and about how much per gallon we would be paying. We were caught a little off guard with the detour, but made it to the gas station just in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279872830780651426" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SUXgXZnqt6I/AAAAAAAAAHA/4QOCRlsxwUA/s320/DSCN0262.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Once we got to the hotel, the phone tree was in full swing, informing everyone what time to report to dinner at the Marie Callendar's down the street. Kary and I arrived first, follow by a slow, but steady stream of my extended family. Soon, we were all there, waiting to be seated. There were a few not in attendance. Those who came from afar, those who were still flying or chose to make the drive the following morning. Kary met many people on Friday night, about 10 new people. He did survive, and no, you probably shouldn't ask him to recite their names ;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Saturday morning the growing group arrived at the Sacred Heart Catholic Church for a 10am funeral service. One of my aunts (I'm sorry, I never did hear who set this up) had asked Father Perry Leiker (currently serving in Hawthorne, CA) to perform the service. This was a wonderful service, with participation from my Uncle Tom, as well as my Uncle Joe. Father Perry spoke, there was wonderful music and the Communion was offered. Following the church service, we all met at the Joshua Tree Memorial Park &amp;amp; Cemetery. There was an "inurnment" of Gram, a burial place for her ashes. We were also able to visit Grandpa's grave, Gram's husband. He wasn't too far from her. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279873387175418178" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SUXg3yWhGUI/AAAAAAAAAHI/CnEMpA4Vs4I/s320/DSCN0290.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;With the wind blowing and the temperature dropping we were all ready for a reprieve. Uncle Randy's sister was kind to offer her house to the large group that had gathered to celebrate Gram's life. There was food, conversation and great visiting with those from near and far. I was grateful for the video that the mortuary put together with pictures Aunt Mary provided. To see the video click &lt;a href="http://mem.com/movie/MovingMemories.asp?ID=2738200"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. I saw pictures I had never seen before. Every branch of the Leiker family tree was made to pose for a picture, which all the grand kids groaned about (as usual ;)). I, however, forgot a camera to get all the great photos...so I am now making a request to any of you out there who were present and took pictures--PLEASE send some pictures to me!!! &lt;a href="mailto:cagrl127@gmail.com"&gt;cagrl127@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279874112062563330" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SUXhh-xFJAI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/sWNr52b1Koo/s320/DSCN0294.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Kary and I enjoyed seeing everyone, even though it was for such a short time. We left right after the luncheon and made our way to St. George, UT. We stopped at the high class outlets in Primm, NV for about 20 minutes and rolled into St. George about 11pm. There was a storm ahead of us and I-15 was closed 10 miles north of St. George. Tractor-Trailers were lined up for miles in the various turn-offs and at the port of entry. So St. George it was. We slept in and ate tons of complimentary breakfast. We were on the road by 1130a and off to the snow we went. Packed snow and ice awaited us north of Cedar City to Fillmore. Overall, it was a great trip. Kary and I enjoyed each others company. Fun!!! &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279874114425519506" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SUXhiHkc_ZI/AAAAAAAAAHY/OPku6CO3qtM/s320/DSCN0300.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279875528710296130" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SUXi0cMOEkI/AAAAAAAAAHo/h8NO7Gd_MgE/s320/DSCN0285.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-5840978040634031503?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/5840978040634031503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=5840978040634031503&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/5840978040634031503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/5840978040634031503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/12/on-road-again.html' title='On the Road Again'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SUXffv7wxhI/AAAAAAAAAGw/uvITepDMRUI/s72-c/DSCN0288.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-428621472718675359</id><published>2008-11-30T23:37:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T00:37:58.688-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh To Be Me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Growing up is never easy. You hold on to things that were. You wonder what's to come. But that night, I think we knew it was time to let go of what had been, and look ahead to what would be. Other days. New days. Days to come. The thing is, we didn't have to hate each other for getting older. We just had to forgive ourselves... for growing up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;--Kevin, The Wonder Years&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I've been tagged, so here are my answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20 Years Ago....&lt;br /&gt;1. I was 8 years old.&lt;br /&gt;2. I was in the 2nd grade.&lt;br /&gt;3. I had a crush on Marcus Carini.&lt;br /&gt;4. I was living in La Mesa, California at 8265 Pasadena Ave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 Years Ago....&lt;br /&gt;1. I graduated from Helix (Charter) High School.&lt;br /&gt;2. I worked at Sea World San Diego.&lt;br /&gt;3. I moved to Salt Lake City, Utah for college.&lt;br /&gt;4. I met Ben and Ryan...I became their "pre-mission mission".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 Years Ago....&lt;br /&gt;1. I was married to STR the Fourth.&lt;br /&gt;2. I had 2 boys, Noah, 2 and Blake, just a new little dude.&lt;br /&gt;3. I was a stay-at-home mom, short order cook, housekeeper, professional diaper changer.&lt;br /&gt;4. I lived in the cute stucco house on Custer Ave, Ogden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 Years Ago....&lt;br /&gt;1. STR the Fourth went to Iraq.&lt;br /&gt;2. I found myself again.&lt;br /&gt;3. I was a total scrapbook nerd.&lt;br /&gt;4. I was working for Rusty Pickle. Whoa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 Year Ago....&lt;br /&gt;1. I had been divorced and living in my own apartment for a year.&lt;br /&gt;2. I had been working for MMI for 1 year.&lt;br /&gt;3. I spent my free time with my bishop's family.&lt;br /&gt;4. I completed a complete under the hood overhaul on the hottest 4Runner on the Wasatch front.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far this year....&lt;br /&gt;1. I moved out of the ghetto on the east side to my current digs.&lt;br /&gt;2. I went to England for a 2 week business trip. Fun!&lt;br /&gt;3. I've only read 2 books. Sad, I know.&lt;br /&gt;4. I met my Kary! (This is by far my favorite event of the year)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I.....&lt;br /&gt;1. Went to Kohl's and the mall by myself.&lt;br /&gt;2. Didn't get to see my Kary.&lt;br /&gt;3. Paid my bills.&lt;br /&gt;4. Thought about how nice it will be to have my own bed back. (My parental units are currently occupying that spot)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I.....&lt;br /&gt;1. Made breakfast burritos for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;2. Took a warm shower. First time in about 5 days.&lt;br /&gt;3. Went to church with the boys and Kary.&lt;br /&gt;4. Took the boys back to STR the Fourth after a wonderful 6 days with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the next year I'll.....&lt;br /&gt;1. Get married!&lt;br /&gt;2. Move to the liberal land of Salt Lake City.&lt;br /&gt;3. Get Joint Physical Custody of Blake and Noah. Finally.&lt;br /&gt;4. Have a baby?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tag everyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-428621472718675359?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/428621472718675359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=428621472718675359&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/428621472718675359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/428621472718675359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/11/oh-to-be-me.html' title='Oh To Be Me...'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-359381692938886687</id><published>2008-11-23T16:49:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T17:44:44.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And, Isn't It Ironic?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The questions and answers on an insurance claim form were:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Q: What warning was given by you? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A: Horn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Q: What warning was given by the other party? A: Moo."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;--An insurance &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;questionnaire&lt;/span&gt; where a claimant had collided with a cow.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;. So I have to say that in my 13 years of driving, I've never hit a car and have it be my fault. But if I am opening up "Honesty Hour" with you all, I must admit to the things I HAVE hit. While I was not aiming for the following, I did kill a few things with my car being the weapon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;There was the road trip my dad, my sister (Emily) and I took in July 1996. On this trip, I drove all but maybe an hour of the trip (age 16, driver's permit in hand), in a car that lost its air conditioning before we ever made it to Bakersfield (yes, the first of our 10 day tour). We were somewhere in the middle of the hellish Arizona desert. Phoenix was our destination that day. Why? I'm not really sure, but I can tell you that when we drove past a thermometer that read 113 degrees, I guarantee you I wished the soaked seats in my mom's car were a pool and not my sweat. On the way to Phoenix though, I ran over what looked like a squirrel or chipmunk. It's possible with the heat though I was hallucinating, because until that day, I didn't know that rodents could survive in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;fiery&lt;/span&gt; desert.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;As the first chair flute in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Grossmont&lt;/span&gt; High School District Honor Band, I, like all of my other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;band mates&lt;/span&gt; were forced to drive to the high school furthest from my own. This was the high school in the "country" of San Diego. My Camry could handle pretty well. She was a great first car. But that day I defiled her by running over what I thought was a rope rolling across the off-ramp bridge. I did not think I needed to use the great handling feature that came standard on the Camry. But no, no. This was no rope. I looked in the rear-view mirror after hearing a horrendous thump under the car. Magically, the rope split into two pieces. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;...silly snake. Snakes can't out run a Toyota.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I went on a field trip in my ex-mother-in-law's rental car at my ex-brother-in-law's wedding in Desert Hot Springs (just outside of Palm Springs). I can't remember why I went out, but I remember what happened when I came back. I will never forget that sound. Never want to hear it again. You would think that in the desert someone would figure out how to turn the heat of the night into electricity. This main road had hardly any street lights. As a result of this fact and my super speediness, I didn't have a chance to stop for or swerve away from what looked like a cute, healthy tabby cat. R.I.P. Kitty Kitty.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;So, back to the original reason I started writing this post. Recall, if you will, Evidence A. Jen has never been in an accident that she was responsible for. Until Friday, November 14, 2008. It is an inexcusable accident. I blame it on my missing fish-eye mirror I had on my driver's side mirror until that day. I was so excited to go to lunch with my co-worker Tricia, I started backing out of my work parking lot (the only way to get out is to back out). Next, I blame this accident on my 32" tires. My truck is the hottest 1994 Toyota 4Runner on the Wasatch Front and no matter how bad my gas mileage is, I LOVE my 32" tires. But with my little woman's syndrome, I should think about looking down instead of straight back, for those less fortunate than myself who drive low-profile vehicles. Last but not least, I blame my co-worker's &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;questionable&lt;/span&gt; parking job: 3 feet from the curb next to my building in an imaginary parking spot. So, on the bright side, I've learned this valuable information:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Japanese vs. German--The Japanese will always win.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Having 32" tires and Little Woman's Syndrome isn't always a negative thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Those who have said: "They just don't make cars like they used to" knew exactly what they were talking about. And to think I used to make fun of them. (Although the whole "I walked 15 miles to school in the worst blizzard to hit this region in 100 years barefoot and without a shirt or earmuffs" speech is getting a little old. ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Here is the proof of the aforementioned point #1.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE WINNER&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272015448404753202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SSn2HjSJezI/AAAAAAAAAGg/dJb0yjW4stU/s400/The+Winner.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As you can see, well not really because let's face it, my cell phone was made to be a phone, not a camera. At any rate, my truck has a little less paint on about a 2"x2" spot just below my slightly broken tail light. In addition to that, I have a slight dent on the corner of my bumper and a bent tail pipe.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE LOSER&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272015452151454690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SSn2HxPbm-I/AAAAAAAAAGo/Cb7UFilZfSw/s400/The+Loser.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This further confirms the aforementioned point #1. So, um, to all of you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;VW&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Passat&lt;/span&gt; owners--How do you feel about that crash test rating now? Because I'm pretty sure I wasn't going more than 1 MPH in reverse. But then again, thank goodness for my 32" BF &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Goody's&lt;/span&gt; and a factory tow package.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-359381692938886687?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/359381692938886687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=359381692938886687&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/359381692938886687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/359381692938886687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/11/and-isnt-it-ironic.html' title='And, Isn&apos;t It Ironic?'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SSn2HjSJezI/AAAAAAAAAGg/dJb0yjW4stU/s72-c/The+Winner.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-4437417653619244263</id><published>2008-11-17T23:29:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T00:20:01.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home, Home on the Range</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; “And I’d tell my grandchildren about it someday, if the mere mention of it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t cause me to sweat bullets and pant, which &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wouldn&lt;/span&gt;’t necessarily be an appropriate way for a grandma to act.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;--The Pioneer Woman&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269893118280752082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 225px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SSJr3rdmW9I/AAAAAAAAAGY/pQbYyX7SKG4/s320/blackheels.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;. So this post has nothing to do with myself, or my family, but with a great website I was recently made aware of. Eric's mom (Eric is my cousin Rachel's boyfriend) told him, he told Aunt Joni, and Aunt Joni told me about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thepioneerwoman.com/"&gt;http://www.thepioneerwoman.com/&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Confessions of a Pioneer Woman website is written by a woman, Ree &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Drummond&lt;/span&gt;, who lives in the country on a ranch. Something she tried to avoid the first 25 years of her life. To find out how she wound up on a ranch, away from the city lights she had grown to love and live by, you will have to check out her story. (Beware, if you don't like sappy stories, you might want to skip this part of the website.) There are tons of great things to check out at her website, including recipes, photography (she is a phenomenal photographer!), confessions, home/garden, and homeschooling. Ree has a great sense of humor; I love her writing style.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm hooked and I know you will be too!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-4437417653619244263?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/4437417653619244263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=4437417653619244263&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/4437417653619244263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/4437417653619244263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/11/home-home-on-range.html' title='Home, Home on the Range'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SSJr3rdmW9I/AAAAAAAAAGY/pQbYyX7SKG4/s72-c/blackheels.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-1667913874714373795</id><published>2008-11-15T13:53:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T16:49:28.699-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Noah-Bear</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Parenthood: That state of being better chaperoned than you were&lt;br /&gt;before marriage."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;--Marcelene Cox&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269009194173445362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SR9H8hj5tPI/AAAAAAAAAF4/k7pKZROgB8w/s400/The+Cake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I am now the mother of a 7 year old. Whoa. I'm not really sure where all the time went between November 8, 2001 and now, but I do know that I wouldn't know what my life would be like without my Noah-Bear (a.k.a. Doodie-Bear...I'm pretty sure that was a nickname Rob came up with, not me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Noah has taught me what I must have been like as a young child. And while he has been an amazing child, I must apologize to my sister, Emily, for being so bossy. And to my parents, especially my mom, I must apologize for always knowing the best way to get to everywhere we were going ("Gosh mom. Why do we have to go the long way? Can't we go the fast way? Ugh." --Jen(ny) as a young Google Maps know-it-all). But, I must admit, I love my Baby-Bear. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Noah is definitely a fine young man in the making. He is smart, expressive, caring, and stubborn (the stubborn part he gets from me, if I have to admit where that comes from). Blake is his BFF. He is concise when it comes to rules. He has no problems calling you out when you are wrong. He loves to run his fingers through my hair (oh how I love it when he does that!). He likes cinnamon raisin bagels, not toasted, hold the cream cheese. Aunt Joni's ribs are definitely his favorite food group. Cake, hold the ice cream. He loves Pokeman and Bachugan (spelling?), Tom and Jerry, SpongeBob SquarePants, and anything Star Wars. Shorts vs. Jeans? Hands down he will pick shorts, even with the thermometer starting to plunge to near freezing temperatures. His favorite scripture story is that of Ammon cutting off the arms of the Lamanite thieves (go figure, he's a boy ;). He is athletic (sometimes scary how much so). Wow. What a kid!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are some pictures from his birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese last weekend. Noah, Blake and 6 of Noah's friends had a blast! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269009769711926658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SR9IeBm9_YI/AAAAAAAAAGA/ipTu3m9JlAw/s320/DSC03999.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269009778522923090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SR9IeibrIFI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/kvEMfaW-0xc/s320/Blake+%40+Noahs+Party.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269009776860039010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SR9IecPNh2I/AAAAAAAAAGI/gz-lZKm_XSs/s320/Noah+and+Cake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/7475912938367506064-1667913874714373795?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1667913874714373795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=1667913874714373795&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1667913874714373795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1667913874714373795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/11/parenthood-that-state-of-being-better.html' title='My Noah-Bear'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SR9H8hj5tPI/AAAAAAAAAF4/k7pKZROgB8w/s72-c/The+Cake.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-7181881148109686904</id><published>2008-11-02T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T10:47:11.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Hold on, man. We don't go anywhere with 'scary',&lt;br /&gt;'spooky', 'haunted', or 'forbidden' in the title.&lt;/span&gt; Zoiks!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;--Shaggy, From &lt;em&gt;Scooby-Doo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The holiday season is upon us. I only say that because commercialism pushes it upon us, whether we are ready or not. I try to block out the candy, cheesy knick-knacks, costumes and blow-up lawn ornaments, but unless you turn to your food storage and forgo eating anything fresh, avoiding these things can be a very hard task. So, thus the holiday season begins.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264115124677472722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SQ3k0L8pcdI/AAAAAAAAAFw/SqN4c-5Fts4/s320/DSC03961.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blake and Noah's school, Beacon Heights, had a carnival last Friday (October 24) for students and their families. It was a chance for all the kids to dress up in their Halloween costumes and have some fun. There was a Haunted House, a bouncy castle, face painting, cotton candy (bubble gum flavor...icky!), snow cones, tacos and quesadillas (though they didn't consult me on the food choices, they definitely decided with me in mind ;), and a ton of little carnival games. The boys dressed up--Noah as an Army guy and Blake as Boba Fet. Rob and Cristina dressed up as well, while Kary and I decided to dress up as ourselves. The kids had a great time. I actually enjoyed the adventure too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SQ3h0-YX97I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/FHQ2UcGrQgE/s1600-h/DSC03951.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264111839680657330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SQ3h0-YX97I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/FHQ2UcGrQgE/s320/DSC03951.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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&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&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After the carnival, Noah, Blake, Kary and I made our way back to Ogden to the closest Arctic Circle. Kary had conveniently found 4 (or maybe more ;) coupons for free ice cream cones. We got our ice creams and sat down for an intense trivia session. Kary tested Noah and Blake on their Star Wars knowledge. I'm pretty sure that the boys impressed him with the plethora of knowledge they possess. Overall, it was a great night!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SQ3h1RFtutI/AAAAAAAAAFg/FVlIw2opFVc/s1600-h/DSC03989.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264111844702665426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SQ3h1RFtutI/AAAAAAAAAFg/FVlIw2opFVc/s320/DSC03989.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last Saturday (October 25) was a new adventure. Noah came and snuggled me around 8am and Blake followed shortly after. Blake and I started playing Mancala around 9am. Noah, half asleep, decided that he would start playing for me. One of the first things he said was, "Mom. What are we doing with Kary today? We didn't get to spend enough time with him yesterday." We didn't have plans because Kary is a tad bit obsessed with mowing a certain lawn. In addition to that, he is charitable with his time and volunteers at Thanksgiving Point. The last few weeks he's been helping with the children's Halloween festivities such as running carnival games and helping out with the pony rides. I called to see if the lawn did indeed grow this week. Kary just said he would go out the back and try not to look at the lawn that would be calling his name to trim it. I hate that I may have interupted the normal Saturday flow for Kary, but I have never seen Noah take to another guy, other than Rob before. So we quickly decided on Hogle Zoo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SQ3h1LpEOiI/AAAAAAAAAFY/W4IN2HVQ8QE/s1600-h/DSC03972.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264111843240327714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SQ3h1LpEOiI/AAAAAAAAAFY/W4IN2HVQ8QE/s320/DSC03972.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The zoo was a mad house! We weren't aware that it was trick-or-treating day for the whole state of Utah at the zoo. There were so many people it was hard to move in any one direction. At first, I was a little irritated--mainly because of the number of people and my slight problem with being claustrophobic, but by the end of our time there I had mellowed out. Once we explained to the boys that we weren't going to stand in every forever long line for a piece of candy we had a wonderful time. My favorite animal moment happened while we were in one of the monkey enclosures. They were a smaller breed of monkey, orange in color, about the size of small cats. There were two sitting together facing the crowd. One held his hand up over the others eyes, as if there was something he wasn't allowed to see! Funny!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SQ3h2EAPQAI/AAAAAAAAAFo/TEpqI0W2CfM/s1600-h/DSC03988.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264111858369904642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SQ3h2EAPQAI/AAAAAAAAAFo/TEpqI0W2CfM/s320/DSC03988.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now to the current week. Oh what a week. The weather has been beautiful! Mid to upper 60's the whole week. Too bad I've been sick! Not only have I been sick the last 2 weeks, but I'm pretty sure I got Kary and Mary sick too. I spent the majority of my week sleeping at Kary's after work. Kary gave me extra special treatment on Wednesday night. I got off a little early and went to Kary's house. Alice (Kary's mom) had made chicken soup. Mmmm...Then Kary took me down to the family room. He made a bed on the ground in front of the TV. Gave me a pair of snuggy pants to change into. Put his robe on me, then his beanie. He made me lay down. The next thing I knew I was waking up to multiple cups of hot chocolate--all different flavors. You see, Kary has an extensive hot chocolate collection. Not just one brand, one flavor, but every brand you can think of and then some! I don't know how many cups of chocolate I had, but I can tell you the Stephen's brand hot chocolate is the best! Kary did a wonderful job of taking care of me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friday (Halloween) was a great day. Very chill day at work. Most of the office staff dressed up. We had a scantily clad eskimo, a biker chick, a conehead, a cowgirl, a jailbird, and a wolf--about 7 feet tall! We ate way too much and then got off early. Rob had the boys for some early trick-or-treating so I hitched a ride with the wolf to Lindon to meet Kary. Kary and I went to his house, had some dinner and talked with his parents. We then went and picked the boys up to take them to Ogden to trick-or-treat at GUB and Joni's and Uncle Joe and Aunt Kathy's. That's about all we had time for because it was clear it was bedtime. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Overall, a great couple of weeks!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-7181881148109686904?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7181881148109686904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=7181881148109686904&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/7181881148109686904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/7181881148109686904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/10/lions-and-tigers-and-bears-oh-my.html' title='Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SQ3k0L8pcdI/AAAAAAAAAFw/SqN4c-5Fts4/s72-c/DSC03961.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-1454357295522635889</id><published>2008-10-23T22:06:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T23:49:27.554-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Home is Where Your Heart Is</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find&lt;br /&gt;myself.”&lt;br /&gt;--Maya Angelou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am back from the Motherland, have been since October 10. It has been a long two weeks. The jet lag has kicked my butt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a great trip. I met many wonderful people and learned that direct flights from Paris to Salt Lake City aren't made for me. Oh yeah, and I'm pretty sure that no country likes France, and the French don't like me. At least not the lady I encountered on the airplane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kary picked me up from the airport and made sure that I didn't go to sleep. Saturday we went to the Utah Symphony with Kary's friend Justin, and his friend April. Really fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then I've been trying to play catch up at work and spending a ton of time Kary. The boys were in North Carolina last week, which I was bummed about. It's been 5 weeks since I've had them for the weekend, but tomorrow I get them...for the whole weekend! Yay! I think a trip to the corn maze and pumpkin patch are in order on Saturday. We shall see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-1454357295522635889?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1454357295522635889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=1454357295522635889&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1454357295522635889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1454357295522635889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-long-as-does-every-human-being-to-be.html' title='Home is Where Your Heart Is'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-1942564218528247699</id><published>2008-10-09T08:14:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T22:05:56.739-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep is NOT Overrated!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SQFJdTrdUqI/AAAAAAAAAFA/7x3gzbXKJbE/s1600-h/DSC03949.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260566607593034402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SQFJdTrdUqI/AAAAAAAAAFA/7x3gzbXKJbE/s320/DSC03949.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"No day is so bad it can't be fixed with a nap."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;--Carrie Snow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So I &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SO4SkaUFlEI/AAAAAAAAAEw/M6sC2gbnxBs/s1600-h/DSC03949.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;think the time change has finally caught up to me. I really didn't need to do any training today. My eyelids got really heavy. So I did everything I could to occupy myself so that I didn't fall asleep. It worked for a while. Then I busted out my travel pillow and slid under my desk, curled up into the fetal position, put my jacket over head and closed my eyes. I had a wonderful nap. When I finally emerged from my hideout, I was giggled at. Hayley and Iain (the two people I've been working with) had taken everyone who walked by and displayed me to the whole office!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-1942564218528247699?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1942564218528247699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=1942564218528247699&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1942564218528247699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1942564218528247699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/10/sleep-is-not-overrated.html' title='Sleep is NOT Overrated!'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SQFJdTrdUqI/AAAAAAAAAFA/7x3gzbXKJbE/s72-c/DSC03949.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-5816236558588993932</id><published>2008-10-08T03:08:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T02:35:14.987-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What's for Tea?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"I don't think America will have really made it until we have&lt;br /&gt;our own salad dressing. Until then we're stuck behind the French,&lt;br /&gt;Italians, Russians and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Caesarians&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;--Pat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;McNelis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's lesson is on meal names.&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast=Breakfast&lt;br /&gt;Lunch=Dinner&lt;br /&gt;Dinner=Tea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess you are "posh" if you say lunch and dinner rather than dinner and tea. I have decided that I am posh. I have also decided that the food issues are only present in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Carlisle&lt;/span&gt;. I have had some okay meals in Durham, but nothing as bad as in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Carlisle&lt;/span&gt;. I have been very impressed. Overall, the service in restaurants here is lacking--you are lucky to get your check, let alone your glass of tap water refilled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I am down to the last couple of days on my trip. It has definitely been an adventure. I have met so many great people. I've learned about lawn mower racing, the local eateries, the train system, the 3 million sheep (I know, they have multiplied and replenished again! There are still some to name...just £1). I have seen some of the most beautiful land and scenery here. Most of all, I have learned that long-term travel by myself is no longer something I fancy. I am grateful for the opportunity I have been given--to be trusted with training my UK peers. I would do it again, for the experience, but I miss being with the boys and Kary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-5816236558588993932?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/5816236558588993932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=5816236558588993932&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/5816236558588993932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/5816236558588993932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/10/whats-for-tea.html' title='What&apos;s for Tea?'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-5838106351324360277</id><published>2008-10-07T05:21:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T02:17:44.997-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, to be a Nomad</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“Remember what Bilbo used to say: It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.”&lt;br /&gt;--J.R.R. Tolkien, &lt;em&gt;The Lord of the Rings&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday Kary gave me a wake up call which was so nice of him! I then packed up and started on my journey to the east coast. The distance between Carlisle and Newcastle is about 50 miles. So add a few more miles to that and that is the width of Northern England (at least at this parallel)! The train ride was relaxing. The train is a great way to travel here as a visitor. It was the first clear day in a week and it was beautiful! Thousands of sheep, lots of cows, a few horses and a donkey-all scattered along the countryside. I tried to take some pictures but the train was moving too fast for the camera to focus. Sorry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got to Durham, I walked from the train station to the hotel. I didn't think there would be so many people out...I guess I am just used to Sunday in Utah. Upon checking into the hotel, they had a note saying that I had requested the same room I had my first night in the country. I don't remember doing that, but I wasn't going to complain about getting a suite! The room wasn't ready yet so I left my bags and went out exploring. I found a cafe that had a killer chicken pot pie. I sat there and admired the wonderful weather while eating my wonderful American food. After I ate, I walked around the village. It is a beautiful place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, Monday, I spent my first day in the Sunderland area. It is a beautiful part of the country. This area is a bit more populated than Carlisle, with similar scenery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I am in Stockton-on-Tees which is near Middlesbrough (spelling?). I am working out of the Head Office today. The drive took about an hour, it's about 36 miles from Durham where I am staying. Don't worry, I didn't drive myself. Driving is not something I think I would EVER try here. That is like writing your own death certificate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was the best night so far. I went to dinner with two other company employees. We laughed all night. They have known each other for almost 10 years and have had many travelling adventures together. Because of that, they told me some of their best stories. They are hilarious when they are together! My meal last night was pretty tasty. Pot Roast with potatoes. Then we all got a dessert--Chocolate Truffle. Oh my. Divine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have any new pictures today, I might be able to upload some tomorrow. Until then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-5838106351324360277?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/5838106351324360277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=5838106351324360277&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/5838106351324360277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/5838106351324360277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/10/oh-to-be-nomad.html' title='Oh, to be a Nomad'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-519704807942891995</id><published>2008-10-04T11:53:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T12:46:52.878-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain? What Rain?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SOe2N2QBrDI/AAAAAAAAAEY/nFb5GNjgItE/s1600-h/DSC03890.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SOe2N2QBrDI/AAAAAAAAAEY/nFb5GNjgItE/s320/DSC03890.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253367839368260658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Today I went to the L&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;akes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; District in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cumbria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; County. Beautiful area! We stopped in on the village of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Keswick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. It is similar to the village of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Durham, but a little smaller. Here are some &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;pictures of some of the "fells" (mountains) in the area. It &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;po&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ured&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; rain all day which in turn flooded the roads, so if you want to see what the Lakes District looks like when it's sunny, then you can check out the following website. It is a fabulous area!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.golakes.co.uk/places/"&gt;http://www.golakes.co.uk/places/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/Users/Adam/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;People come to the Lakes to "walk" which really means they are hiking. So walking around, you will see about 80% of people in hiking/backpacking gear. I would have LOVED to have had the opportunity to go hiking, but without waterproof gear, it would have proved a little damp. It poured profusely while we were in the village, but it seemed business as usual. There were all sorts of shops to go in to get out of the wet weather. Very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;eclectic&lt;/span&gt; shops, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;jewellry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (yes, that's how they spell jewelry here) shops, clothing shops, but most importantly outdoor sporting goods shops. Not just 2 or 3, but &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;14&lt;/span&gt;! Fourteen shops containing everything needed for hiking and rock climbing. I loved all of the stores! It was fun to see all of the different items you wouldn't normally see in the states. In addition to all the stores, there was a "market" setup in the village square. Vendors selling their wares under tents in the blustery winds and cold rain. It was about 40 degrees &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Fahrenheit&lt;/span&gt;. We ate at a "posh" cafe, as Nina called it--I understand that to mean fancy. As we started to drive back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Carlisle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, we stopped at a place called Surprise View. I took the three pictures seen below from this point, which was a crag, rock face, drop off (scary!) From top to bottom, if you were to line them up from left to right it would be a panoramic view of the lakes.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SOewZoLDauI/AAAAAAAAAD4/mpSMy8znTq8/s1600-h/DSC03891.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SOewZoLDauI/AAAAAAAAAD4/mpSMy8znTq8/s320/DSC03891.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253361444677970658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SOe0XEwC2NI/AAAAAAAAAEA/N1vp-SMstNw/s1600-h/DSC03892.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SOe0XEwC2NI/AAAAAAAAAEA/N1vp-SMstNw/s320/DSC03892.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253365798856218834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SOe07UtHQjI/AAAAAAAAAEI/t2rDDiX15o8/s1600-h/DSC03893.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SOe07UtHQjI/AAAAAAAAAEI/t2rDDiX15o8/s320/DSC03893.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253366421614182962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When we went to leave, the roads were flooded, so we drove the long way home! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;! I got to see more of the countryside! Nina and I stopped at the co-op (the mini grocery store, fits in a building smaller than a 7-11) to get some stuff to make dinner. Nina cooked myself and her roommate, Adam, some great food! She was so nice and used some spices for me! What a girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now about to leave the suburbs of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Carlisle&lt;/span&gt; to head back to my hotel in the middle of the party zone. Last night was crazy! Gary, Nina, Grant and I went out for Indian food, or as they call it, Curry. My first experience with Indian wasn't too bad. I liked some dishes more than others, but over all it was better than the bland food I'd had all week. I got back to my hotel pretty early. So I got ready for bed and flipped through my 20 channels of "rubbish". It got pretty hot in my room and they don't believe in A/C's here so I opened my window. Low and behold, there was American music blaring from ALL 5 pubs on the street I am staying on. Ugh. Throw in the mass of people that traveled into town to get "pissed", and you have a never-ending echo of madness. I fell asleep to the white noise outside...to wake up to a wonderful call from Kary. It's been a great day, although I've been a little distracted. I will post more pictures soon. I am traveling to the east coast tomorrow. Durham Marriott...oh, the plush bed that awaits me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-519704807942891995?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/519704807942891995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=519704807942891995&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/519704807942891995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/519704807942891995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/10/rain-what-rain.html' title='Rain? What Rain?'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SOe2N2QBrDI/AAAAAAAAAEY/nFb5GNjgItE/s72-c/DSC03890.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-2849993826098473065</id><published>2008-10-03T13:31:00.010-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T02:19:32.905-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Baa, Baa Black Sheep</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"The man who looks for security, even in the mind, is like a man who would chop off his limbs in order to have artificial ones which will give him no pain or trouble." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;--Henry Miller&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Today was probably the best day of my trip thus far. I enjoyed being at the branch here in Carlisle--the people that work here are amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I came to work this morning, I was told that I would probably be staying in Carlisle for the remainder of my trip, however, at lunch time that changed to a possible unknown location&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;--I would be trading with someone at another branch. But by 5pm I was given the opportunity to choose my own destiny. I can stay here or go to Sunderland on the Northeast coast--the original location I was to be at for the full 2 weeks. So, after a few minutes thinking and pondering out loud, I decided that I wanted a change in scenery. Of course I did NOT take into account the plush Marriott that awaited me in Durham (that was already pre-paid, an arm and a leg, to be exact), just south of Sunderland. Nor did I take into account that I would get to see the other side of the country ;). So there you have it. The Northeast coast it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am going to the Lakes District tomorrow with Nina, one of the girls from the branch here. She will be my tour guide. I am sooo excited. This will be the only trip I've taken away from the hotel besides the one I make to work everyday. We are going for a walk in the "mountains". Yay! I have been dying for some opportunities to take some pictures of the natural scenery!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some facts about Carlisle:&lt;br /&gt;Carlisle is home to a church parrish that U.S. President, Woodrow Wilson's grandfather was the pastor of. Carlise has a castle (who knew?). I'm pretty sure there is only a hand full of "proper" restaurants here, the rest are pubs--a wanna-be restaurant w&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ith a bar the length of the entire building. Nothing is open past "half five" (5:30pm) except for on Thursday, when places are open until 7:00pm. I am staying on the rowdiest street in town. They will even close the entire street down at 9pm tonight so that ev&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;eryone can run around drunk and not have to worry about getting hit by a car. Speaking of cars, it's probably the whole country, but it's not like America here where the pedestrian has the right of way, NO, if you so much as put a toe on the street you are &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;fair game! ALWAYS LOOK RIGHT FIRST! Betting stores and dedicated slot machine facilities (yes, in different store fronts) are all over the place here. Other than all that, Carlisle a&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nd the surrounding areas have a population of approximately 100, 000 people and about 2 million sheep. I know I said 1 million sheep and I had named them all, but it seems that they have multiplied and replenished the stock two fold while I was here. I haven't named any of the new 1 million so if you would like in on the fun, I am currently starting a non-profit, called "Name the Carlisle&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Sheep". And for just £1, you too can a&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;dopt and name your own cute, little sheep! Send funds via Paypal or by mail, addressed to Jen Robinson. I mea&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;n "Name the Carlisle Sheep Fund".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SOesq6b-rHI/AAAAAAAAADo/ovFEG1dCUDU/s1600-h/DSC03904.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253357343592066162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SOesq6b-rHI/AAAAAAAAADo/ovFEG1dCUDU/s320/DSC03904.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-2849993826098473065?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/2849993826098473065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=2849993826098473065&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/2849993826098473065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/2849993826098473065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/10/baa-baa-black-sheep.html' title='Baa, Baa Black Sheep'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SOesq6b-rHI/AAAAAAAAADo/ovFEG1dCUDU/s72-c/DSC03904.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-1943767010568240314</id><published>2008-10-02T14:01:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T12:52:33.336-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Language Lessons and Customs</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old familiar pillow."&lt;br /&gt;--Lin &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Yutang&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SOe6u6K7BZI/AAAAAAAAAEg/ytxrQauO8AA/s1600-h/DSC03887.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SOe6u6K7BZI/AAAAAAAAAEg/ytxrQauO8AA/s320/DSC03887.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253372805402789266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yes. I am home sick. I don't think I have ever been home sick while traveling by myself before. I am enjoying the experiences I am having, and I adore the people I've met, but there is something to be said for the warm faces and love you feel from those you see on a regular basis at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to be multi-lingual when I return home. At least that's what I am being told by those I've been training this week. The dialect(s) here, on the Northwest coast, are completely different from those in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sunderland&lt;/span&gt;, on the Northeast coast. Thus, I will be learning a new language next week. But for now these are some of the things I have observed/learned:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Language Lesson (you may already know some of these):&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lift=Elevator&lt;br /&gt;Laurie=Truck, as in big rig&lt;br /&gt;Pissed=Drunk&lt;br /&gt;Sick=Bored&lt;br /&gt;Ill=Sick&lt;br /&gt;Mountains=Hills (well, that's my interpretation especially when they pointed the "mountains" out to me...900' above sea level?)&lt;br /&gt;Mate=Friend&lt;br /&gt;Cheers=Goodbye&lt;br /&gt;Tara (roll the 'r' with a proper English 'a')=Goodbye&lt;br /&gt;Me=My (as in "I love me mom and dad")&lt;br /&gt;Over the Moon=Excited, elated&lt;br /&gt;Frock=Dress&lt;br /&gt;Bloke=Man, guy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Customs:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I arrive to work with my two carpool buddies, the office manager offers to get each of us tea or coffee, and in my case, hot chocolate. I've never been offered a hot drink so many times my whole life, let alone one day! This occurs throughout the day by each member of the staff. Whoa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cars:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd guess that 85% of all the cars I've seen are about the size of a Geo Metro. They have all sorts of brands as well. Ford, Fiat, Audi, Smart Car, BMW, Honda, Toyota, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Peugeot&lt;/span&gt; (don't think I spelled that one right...) and others I haven't quite figured out yet. Even the brands we are familiar with in America have cars that are smaller than those offered in the U.S. I honestly wouldn't feel safe in anything this size in the U.S. though. Not with all the B.M.W.'s (Big Mormon Wagons) or M.A.V.'s ( Mormon Assault Vehicles). With gas or diesel at hovering at about £10 gallon, I totally understand the reasoning behind the smaller vehicle though. About 70% of the £10 is a tax imposed by the UK. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt;!! And we think we have it bad! These people get taxed for EVERYTHING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Scenery:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scenery is beautiful. I haven't seen a personal garden/yard that is overgrown yet, but do know, that anything not on personal property could cause you to wish you had your own personal Edward &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Scissorhands&lt;/span&gt; with you on your trip! Overgrown is an understatement! Pretty. Pretty overgrown. I still think it is wonderful though. Everything is green, just like San Diego. But don't anyone worry. I won't be moving here. Ever. Period.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-1943767010568240314?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1943767010568240314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=1943767010568240314&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1943767010568240314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1943767010568240314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/10/language-lessons-and-customs.html' title='Language Lessons and Customs'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SOe6u6K7BZI/AAAAAAAAAEg/ytxrQauO8AA/s72-c/DSC03887.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-337433258470540248</id><published>2008-10-01T15:05:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T15:45:22.451-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Me ? Escape? Why, yes, I would love to</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Only a life lived for others is a life worth living."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;--Albert Einstein&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have any good stories from the Motherland to report at the end of this day, except that I did finally have a good meal. Meatballs and linguine. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mmm&lt;/span&gt;. Oh yeah, and when I left that pub I had about 40 people looking at me like I was an idiot--I had exited through the fire escape doors. How was I to know!?! The doors only said "PUSH TO OPEN". &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;. Correct me if I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wrong&lt;/span&gt; but as long as it says that, you would think it would be proper to do just that? Oh well. I didn't set the alarms off and there were no fire engines that came barreling down the road followed by police. So the world didn't end because a chick from the states doesn't understand English &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;english&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was thinking about what to write but didn't really have anything to share. However, I got to thinking about a concert Kary volunteered at a couple weeks ago at Thanksgiving Point (cool place if you've never been there before I highly recommend it--if you get a membership you can frolic through the gardens WHENEVER you want--at least that's what Kary claims). Peter &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Breinholt&lt;/span&gt; was the artist. I quite enjoyed the music he and his band performed. Dad--he sounds sort of like Paul Simon! Acoustic guitars, piano, fiddle, mandolin and some others. He sang a song that touched me that night. I don't know what it was, but even with the boys and Kary rolling down the hill and dog piling each other, it made me cry (maybe I was just stressed and sleep deprived?). It's a great song and if you get the chance you should click on the link below to hear it. Well, if you all want to know anything in particular about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Carlisle&lt;/span&gt;, I would love to see if I can answer your questions. Email me. Leave a comment. Don't call me, I won't answer. It will cost both you and I a fortune ;). Until tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What About&lt;br /&gt;By Peter &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Breinholt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been said that to live is to sorrow&lt;br /&gt;It's been said that there's no room for tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;So men stand there and stare at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;twilight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they work out each day as it seems right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I knew you would come&lt;br /&gt;So I say Hallelujah my love&lt;br /&gt;And I think now&lt;br /&gt;All this time has been&lt;br /&gt;On this road&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what about&lt;br /&gt;All the September moons&lt;br /&gt;And what about&lt;br /&gt;All the flowers in June&lt;br /&gt;And what about&lt;br /&gt;All the times that I sit here and wonder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I could be wrong&lt;br /&gt;For believing this way&lt;br /&gt;And I could be wrong&lt;br /&gt;Every hour of each day&lt;br /&gt;Til I think about&lt;br /&gt;Every moment that I can remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they say that to silence is worth gold&lt;br /&gt;And they say every young man must grow old&lt;br /&gt;So we work and we reason our times&lt;br /&gt;Still it's quiet all around here at night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I knew this would be and I say&lt;br /&gt;There is so much to see&lt;br /&gt;And I think now&lt;br /&gt;All this time has been passing by&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what about&lt;br /&gt;All the mountains in spring&lt;br /&gt;And what about&lt;br /&gt;All the choirs that sing&lt;br /&gt;And what about&lt;br /&gt;Every mother that holds a new child&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think about&lt;br /&gt;All the times as a child&lt;br /&gt;When I couldn't keep&lt;br /&gt;From laughing out loud&lt;br /&gt;And to catch myself&lt;br /&gt;I would go out and stay there a while&lt;br /&gt;All this could have passed me by&lt;br /&gt;Standing lonely all this while&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what about&lt;br /&gt;Every wide open field&lt;br /&gt;And what about&lt;br /&gt;All the wind that we feel&lt;br /&gt;And what about&lt;br /&gt;Every holiday song in a small town&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what about&lt;br /&gt;Every child that sleeps&lt;br /&gt;And what about&lt;br /&gt;Every quiet blue sea&lt;br /&gt;And what about&lt;br /&gt;Every man that we take up to lay down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what about&lt;br /&gt;All the September moons&lt;br /&gt;And what about&lt;br /&gt;All the flowers in June&lt;br /&gt;And what about&lt;br /&gt;Every moment that I can remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I could be wrong&lt;br /&gt;For believing this way&lt;br /&gt;And I could be wrong&lt;br /&gt;Every hour of each day&lt;br /&gt;And I think about&lt;br /&gt;All the times that I sit here and wonder&lt;br /&gt;All the times that I sit here and wonder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://store.peterbreinholt.com/viewalbum.php?albumid=20"&gt;http://store.peterbreinholt.com/viewalbum.php?albumid=20&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-337433258470540248?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/337433258470540248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=337433258470540248&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/337433258470540248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/337433258470540248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/09/me-escape-why-yes-i-would.html' title='Me ? Escape? Why, yes, I would love to'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-7925339559930215850</id><published>2008-09-30T14:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T15:03:54.711-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Food, Glorious Food!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Please sir, can I have some more?"&lt;br /&gt;--Oliver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Of course the above quote is in a British accent. I am &lt;strong&gt;soory&lt;/strong&gt; (in a British accent) to say--I AM picking up the accent ever so slightly...hopefully I can come back to Utah and drop the "proper English" and begin dropping my g's again (as in hunt-in', fishin', hikin', etc.).&lt;/span&gt; &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;As you may guess from my post title, I would like to tell you a bit about the food here, as the food connoisseur that I am. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It's been 12 years since my last and only visit to the UK. I remember vividly the hunger pangs I felt during that 10 day trip (even though I brought enough snacks to feed myself AND the 100 other people that went on the trip with me). Even though I was able to find a Burger King in every city we were blessed to visit, I think I lost 10 pounds. So, when the opportunity presented itself to travel here to the UK again, I gladly accepted...until the memories started to surface about my food intake while here the last time. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful to have food to eat. Period. But here's the current story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I have given the country 3 days to impress me. I actually have a say in where I eat every meal this trip, which is different from my last trip. 3 days, I have tried to have an open mind, and 3 days I've been let down (with the exception of one night when I found a Pizza shop owned by a Middle Eastern couple--good calzones!). I talked to my dad a couple weeks before I left and voiced my concerns about the food here. He had to chastise me for a minute and remind me that it was 12 years ago, at the age of 16 that I was here last. "You are older now, and your tastes have changed." Or something close to that. Okay. I will give you that Dad. You are right on that argument. So I tried not to dwell on the food factor of my trip and I tried to keep an open mind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Well, 12 years and the food still hasn't changed. But what did I really expect? I mean, this country is older than the dirt that makes up this island (I know, I know. The dirt makes the island the country was built on, but humor me here). So, why did I expect anything different? I don't know. I think I had high hopes for the spice trade to make its way to this age-old country before I came back. I didn't think it was a desperate hope? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Tuesday, September 30, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Breakfast&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After a disappointing trip to the breakfast buffet in the lobby of my hotel yesterday, I decided to give it another shot. I try to give everything and everyone a fair shot to impress me. So, at 8am this morning I travel down my one and a half flights of stairs to the lobby to collect my baguette and apple juice. But low and behold, there, in the distance, I see scrambled eggs, cooked ham, and fried bacon! All that was missing were the pancakes, but I think I was the only one who noticed. So back to the story. As I said, off in the distance, I could see this glorious food. IN. THE. DISTANCE. Behind about 50 tourists. From what I gathered by listening, they were UK nationals. So you mean to tell me that I am in line behind &lt;strong&gt;50 &lt;/strong&gt;tourist-type people who, according to my dialect detector, belong to this country that is smaller than the state of California? They have never taken trips around their OWN country before, and now I have to wait for them to get some breakfast? I have been on a slight fast for the last 3 days, and I finally see some edible food. I come to the conclusion, with 3 minutes until my ride is to arrive, that my drooling over some good grub is all for naught. So, I march to the front of the 50 people, pickup a bowl and serve myself some flavorless Corn Flakes, scoot over to what looks like cold milk (I distinctly remember this country only having warm milk--so this is definitely an improvement) and start to push the button on the fancy dispenser. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Yes. You counted right. 5 drips of cold milk on my full bowl of cereal. I was in disbelief! Trying to stay positive, I look over to the machine that houses the orange and apple juice. There's still hope to redeem this trip to the buffet. Shuffling to the machine, I pick up my glass, the size of a little kids sippy cup, I put it down and push the button. One quarter inch. One half inch. Three quarters of an inch. One inch. Drip. Drip. Drip. What!?! Are you kidding me? Sulking in defeat, I walk over to the brown leather couches by the front door and park it with just 2 minutes to inhale my dry cereal and wash it down with my one gulp of apple juice. Depressing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Lunch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The depot (we call them branches in the U.S.) I am at this week, in Carlisle, is about 3 miles outside of "downtown", in the "country". (Yes, Carlisle really does have over a million sheep. I've counted them and named them myself.) Because of the location, you can't just drive around the corner to the yummy taco stand for lunch. Nina, the Office Manager, could tell that I was hungry, so she offered to drive me in her car, on the wrong side of the road into the "village" so I could grab a bite to eat. We got into the village, which consists of a bakery, sandwich shop, a co-op (sort of like a mini 7-11 or Maverick, only smaller with all the stuff you'd see in a grocery store), and a Pub. Now, as much as I wanted to go into the Pub and get pissed (NOT!), I settled for the frozen food section of the co-op. I saw only one thing that I recognized all the words on, so I bought it. Quiche Lorraine. It was definitely edible, not my favorite though. Needed a little salt. So, yes. If I had access to salt I would have used it, and I &lt;strong&gt;do not&lt;/strong&gt; like extra salt on my food (if it's cooked in it's fine, I'm just not a fan of the shaker, never have been). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Dinner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I cannot tell you how bad I want a steak. A basic sirloin from say, Sizzler, Outback, even one from the butcher that I BBQ. I badly wanted a steak tonight. I decided to take a stroll down the street from my hotel and try some local hole in the wall. I located a place that had a picture on the menu of a juicy-looking steak. I walked in and waited about 30 seconds to be seated before I realized no one cared if I was there or not. I walked up to the bar and still got ignored. I flagged down a bartender (by the way, EVERY restaurant has a bar here). She told me to go pick a table, find the number on the table, come back to the bar to order my food and go back to my table to wait. Let me tell you what I learned yesterday from the Depot Manager (who, by the way, races lawnmowers--pictures on the way). Gary taught me that NO ONE tips here. No wonder the guy in Durham, my first night here, looked at me like I fell out of the sky when I tipped him £4. The restaurant employees receive a wage and no tips. The service definitely shows. I would rather have good service and tip, than to be ignored and not tip. As for the food...I ordered an 8oz. thick, juicy steak, cooked medium with a "jacket potato" (I saw butter and sour cream and chives and bacon and, and, and) and a side salad instead of peas. What I got was a cremated skinny piece of no-flavor, no-spice beef jerky, naked jacket potato, and a decent salad with a mystery dressing on it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I just can't win in this country when it comes to food. I am definitely learning a greater appreciation for flavorful food, no matter how bad it tastes. So I have 11 days left, but if I keep having experiences like today, I think I will voluntarily take a "holiday" (that's what they call a day off or vacation) from eating for the remainder of my trip. Good thing I gained 8 lbs. before I got here&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-7925339559930215850?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/7925339559930215850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=7925339559930215850&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/7925339559930215850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/7925339559930215850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/09/food-glorious-food.html' title='Food, Glorious Food!'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-3266922769782076966</id><published>2008-09-29T14:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T14:31:43.601-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh to be in the Motherland...</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It had long since come to my attention that people of&lt;br /&gt;accomplishment rarely sat back and let things happen to them. They went out and happened to things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Leonardo da Vinci&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Today was the first day of my "Business Meetings" here in England. I enjoyed the company and the scenery on the way to the "depot". There is nothing really to report on the work front. Although, I had a conference call today to discuss how everything had gone to that point. One of the moderators wanted to know which of us thought we had the longest flight, I replied with, "Ooo, me, me!" When he asked who it was I said "Jen in Carlisle" to which he replied, "Jen, where's Jennifer Robinson?" I confirmed I was she and he said that I had picked up the English accent already! What!?! I don't know. I will let you all be the judge when I get back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the villages here are quaint and cute. Houses are quite a bit smaller here, but the gardens are amazing. I am across the street from a happening club (actually about 30 yards from my window). Good if you are a clubber, not if you are me, trying to sleep for work, in a foreign country...on a 7 hour time difference. Oh well. I think if I can get to sleep before the club opens, I might not have a problem. We shall see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will write again tomorrow. And don't anyone worry. I haven't gotten pissed yet. =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-3266922769782076966?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/3266922769782076966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=3266922769782076966&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/3266922769782076966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/3266922769782076966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/09/oh-to-be-in-motherland.html' title='Oh to be in the Motherland...'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-3612537221293514994</id><published>2008-09-28T14:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T15:47:38.924-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Planes, Trains and Automobiles!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Whoa!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;--Jen Robinson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Journey Begins&lt;br /&gt;Friday, September 26, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:00am MST&lt;br /&gt;Wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:00am MST&lt;br /&gt;Uncle Bob picks me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:30am MST&lt;br /&gt;Get to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SLC&lt;/span&gt; airport and check in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:00am MST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mmmm&lt;/span&gt;...the smell of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cinnabon&lt;/span&gt;! But I settle for french toast in the restaurant instead. Yummy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:30am MST&lt;br /&gt;I believe that's about the time the plane took off. I can't be sure. I was already passed out asleep (I trained myself to do that sort of thing at my last job when I traveled all the time ;). I didn't wake up until after the 1st beverage service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3:30pm EST&lt;br /&gt;The plane lands. We all get onto a "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;PeopleMover&lt;/span&gt;" that takes us to the terminal from the tarmac. For those of you who have never had the adventure of riding on one of these &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;apparatus&lt;/span&gt;, let me try to explain. Picture this: A double-wide &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Humvee&lt;/span&gt; on giant tractor tires that goes up and down like a scissor lift. Inside it looked like a ferry boat-seats down both sides and two rows, back to back in the middle with floor-to-ceiling poles every few feet, like a subway train. I will try and get a picture in a couple weeks when I return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4:00-5:00pm EST&lt;br /&gt;Dinner, last cell phone calls, board next plane. JFK to Paris. 7+ hours of flying time. Full plane, a melting pot of sorts. There were many languages being spoken. It was awesome! The smell in the air was a little less than to be desired but there wasn't much I could do about that. I checked my bag at the gate because there was no more room in the overhead compartments, thanks to the new $50 charge for second bags. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;. So when you check your bag at the gate, they are supposed to bring it back up from the belly of the plane for you to continue on your journey--WITH your bag. Keep that in mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:00am Paris Time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Bonjour&lt;/span&gt;! The plane lands. The flight was long, but thank goodness for sleep and personal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;TV's&lt;/span&gt;--you get to pick from TV shows, movies, music and games! And on the transatlantic flights they are free!!! I got off the plane ready to reunite with my suitcase (my laptop was inside! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ahh&lt;/span&gt;!). No bag. Yes, you heard me right. No bag. So I stay calm and ask for assistance. The man at the gate was even nice enough to go down under the plane and look for me, but still, no bag. He told me it must be on the carousel. So. Ugh. I checked in for my final flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:00-10:15am Paris Time&lt;br /&gt;I go through customs. Run to look for my bag. There it is! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;! Phew! I go through the 5-checkpoint of the international security line just to get flagged by the x-ray lady. I know just what it is they want to see. Without saying anything I pull out my bathroom bag that I keep my scissors in. The searcher-man declares they are permitted in my luggage (as I knew they would be) and I begin to close my bag. Just as I begin to do that I feel a weird substance on the bag and see that ALL of my shirts have what appears to be bleach stains!!! ALL OF THE SHIRTS I OWN! Oh my. This poses a problem. What will I wear for the next 2 weeks!?! I finish my trip through security, shed a few tears, pull myself together and march back through customs and down to baggage services. I file a report (which took FOR-EV-ER). I go back through the 5-point security and get flagged AGAIN by the x-ray man. This time the bag inspector tells me my scissors are "forbidden". &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;. That's funny, 'cause last time they weren't. Just so all of you are aware, weapons ARE allowed in the cabin of all flights. They are called scissors, not to exceed 4" in length. Yes, even serrated scissors. So, after all that, I had just enough time to run to my flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:40am Paris Time&lt;br /&gt;Paris to Newcastle-upon-Tyne flight takes off. I sleep. The whole flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:15am GMT (Greenwich Mean Time)&lt;br /&gt;Cheerio! Newcastle, UK. The adventure begins! See Day 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 1&lt;br /&gt;     *Mission to find shirts commences. This is harder than you think. I take the Metro into Newcastle from the airport. Apparently Newcastle has the ONLY mall in all of England. Plow through the Northern Rock Football (no, really, it's soccer) fans. 6 hours searching for shirts, you'd think that I'd find plenty...think again! I don't understand their style here. I want t-shirts with sleeves, I find the following: shirts that are sleeveless, or see-through, or ruffled everywhere, or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;lacy&lt;/span&gt;, or neon or have hideous bows on them. Huh. Maybe I'm not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt; enough for this country. That's fine =).&lt;br /&gt;     *This is what I see outside: Cobblestone, bricks of all blah shades, British taxis, "coaches" (a.k.a. buses in the U.S.), and small golf cart sized cars. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Pre&lt;/span&gt;-teens smoking in public (you didn't even see that in Cali!), people walking down the street with open containers of alcohol (again, something you don't see in Cali!).&lt;br /&gt;     *I took the train to Durham. First built in 1057 A.D. It is a beautiful little town. It reminded me of Disneyland--just the closed-in small theatrical set feeling, I suppose. They were, however, real buildings with real people. There are trees everywhere! I need a tree/berry identifier, maybe one that tries any and all of the fruit that they bear ;). There are rolling hills here, like San Diego, and it's perfect beach weather! But without the beach and without the tall buildings...and medium buildings...and houses everywhere...anyway, I think you get the picture. (There hasn't been any rain yet either! Woo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;hoo&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;     *I managed to stay awake until 8:30pm! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;! I might actually have success at the whole time change and getting on the schedule here! It is a 7 hour difference here from Utah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 2&lt;br /&gt;I sleep in. Think about getting up but decide to remain in my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;snugly&lt;/span&gt; bed in my junior suite (yes, thank goodness for complimentary upgrades because even this room is small!). Take a nap. Repack. Walk 30 minutes back to the train station, up hills, around corners, not in the snow, with shoes on. Miss the train by 1 minute. Darn. Make the next train to Newcastle. Make the connection to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Carlisle&lt;/span&gt;. Oh wait! I forgot my book on the last train! Run back hoping to find it. They wouldn't let me back on the train to look so they had to send someone to do it for me. They find it! Good thing too, I had to wait another hour for the next train. Board and ride to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Carlisle&lt;/span&gt;. Walk 200 yards to the Ibis &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Carlisle&lt;/span&gt; Hotel. Veg. Eat. Write. Blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned for more adventures from the Motherland! I don't know when I will be able to post pics. As it is I have to pay £1 (or about $2) for every 10 minutes I use the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; here in the lobby. I might just have to post the when I get home. It's a shame, I know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, Jen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-3612537221293514994?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/3612537221293514994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=3612537221293514994&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/3612537221293514994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/3612537221293514994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/09/planes-trains-and-automobiles.html' title='Planes, Trains and Automobiles!'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-1031133575834330003</id><published>2008-09-26T01:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T01:57:12.163-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Stop worrying about the potholes in the road and celebrate the journey." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;--Fitzhugh Mullan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, it's 1:30am. But rather than sleep, I am trying to get on Greenwich Mean Time. Right now it is 8:30am in England. I am sitting next to my half-packed suitcase surrounded by various electronics that are plugged into the wall to charge. Among the electronics, an iPod, camera, cell phone and of course my laptop. I don't think I've ever traveled so heavy before! It is all in the hopes of being able to include others in the great opportunity I have been blessed with, by documenting my trip through this blog...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to England on a business trip, but I hope to be able to take advantage of my time off to see Northern England and maybe some of Scotland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is a travel day. My flight leaves SLC at 8:30am. I will fly to JFK then on to Charles deGaulle in Paris and end in Newcastle-upon-Tyne in Northern England. I will arrive on Saturday around 11:00am, if all goes well. Hopefully I can update my blog on Saturday night...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-1031133575834330003?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1031133575834330003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=1031133575834330003&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1031133575834330003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1031133575834330003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/09/stop-worrying-about-potholes-in-road.html' title=''/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-3408818919300135630</id><published>2008-09-23T22:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T23:24:01.430-06:00</updated><title type='text'>These are the Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; "These are the days of miracle and wonder."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;--Paul Simon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who: Noah Chayton Robinson&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What: First Day of School&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Grade: 1st &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where: Beacon Heights Elementary, Salt Lake City, UT&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Date: Tuesday, August 26, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Time: Approximately 8:30am&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Teacher: Ms. Lee (I swear she's 30ish, but she's been teaching for 16 years!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SNnM4FrAh2I/AAAAAAAAADY/DkWH-EO0q0A/s1600-h/DSC03752.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249452104644331362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SNnM4FrAh2I/AAAAAAAAADY/DkWH-EO0q0A/s400/DSC03752.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Noah. It's the first day of the first grade in his first "real" school. He looks a little nervous mixed with excitement. He has Spiderman as his backpack sidekick. A blue lunch box (or bag, whatever you want to call it these days) in his hand. Spikey hair, courtesy of some creative brushes through his hair with some L.A. Looks Hair Gel. He is in line, waiting for Ms. Lee to take him inside to his new classroom. Blake is running around on the playground, no cares in the world. Noah looks around, slightly leary of what is about to take place. Kids everywhere. Parents with cameras (yes, even me) snapping pics of their kids and the surrounding activity. Rob has Noah recite his lunch pin number in case he decides he wants to eat cafeteria food (what happened to the days of taking lunch money in straight dimes and nickles?). Ms. Lee comes out. All the parents in attendance hug, kiss, and love on their kids as the lines start to move into the modern school. Oh my, how time flies. First grade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who: Blake Calian Robinson&lt;br /&gt;What: First Day of School&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Grade: Kindergarten&lt;br /&gt;Where: Beacon Heights Elementary, Salt Lake City, UT&lt;br /&gt;Date: Friday, September 5, 2008&lt;br /&gt;Time: Approximately 8:30am&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: Ms. Judy (I don't even think I know her last name...)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SNnNaMO8o_I/AAAAAAAAADg/pnssjTBGxII/s1600-h/DSC03763.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249452690521236466" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SNnNaMO8o_I/AAAAAAAAADg/pnssjTBGxII/s400/DSC03763.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Blake loves to skip. Well, I guess you could consider it more of a run. No, maybe a "Charge!". Yes. That is it. This was Blake's attitude on this bright morning. So excited, he runs straight for the Kindergarten playground. Definitely not shy, Blake has no problem talking about how cool his first day was going to be. Rob, Cristina and I, stood behind the fence and watched as Blake played alone, oblivious to the rest of the kids playing within inches of him. He ran back forth between the playground and the fence where we watched his enthusiasm with great wonder. The kindergarteners were scattered about. The teachers came out and Blake ran up to Ms. Judy. "Today is my first day of Kindergarten!" (In the voice of the kid from The Incredibles that says "That was totally wicked!") My Bigs, in Kindergarten!?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-3408818919300135630?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/3408818919300135630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=3408818919300135630&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/3408818919300135630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/3408818919300135630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/09/these-are-days.html' title='These are the Days'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SNnM4FrAh2I/AAAAAAAAADY/DkWH-EO0q0A/s72-c/DSC03752.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-3828470281409942844</id><published>2008-09-21T18:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T18:30:50.086-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Quote to Live By</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”&lt;/strong&gt;  -Marianne Williamson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This quote was sent to me by my brother, Ben. He sent it at a time when I was having a hard time understanding my worth. It has since, come to be a wonderful reminder to the "greatness" (I know you are laughing at me Kary, but it IS a word!) we each have in us. We are truly blessed, that no matter how we feel about our self-worth, we are here for a reason, whether for ourselves, our family or for a complete stranger. We must always remember to be the best we can be, if not for ourselves, then for those around us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-3828470281409942844?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/3828470281409942844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=3828470281409942844&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/3828470281409942844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/3828470281409942844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/09/quote-to-live-by.html' title='A Quote to Live By'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-573343499739461952</id><published>2008-09-13T21:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T20:09:12.854-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fish Are Friends, Not Food</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I am a nice shark, not a mindless eating machine. If I am to change this image, I must first change myself. Fish are friends, not food." --Bruce, Finding Nemo &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, after pulling myself out of my stupor from yesterday's wisdom tooth ordeal, I went to Salt Lake to pickup the boys. I had my next blog post in mind, of course. It's been a while since I sent any pictures of Noah and Blake to my parents so I had to get some good ones to post. I had received some tickets to the Living Planet Aquarium in Sandy, just south of Salt Lake City proper. I picked up the boys and we first made our way to REI for a brief look at jackets and "multi-purpose" bags (not purses ;). Then it was off to the aquarium. I was a little excited. If there is one thing I miss about working at Sea World, it would be the opportunity to see the blindingly bright fish swim around in their own pee. No, really. I LOVED working at Sea World, not because I could stand the smell of feeder fish in the morning, or the afternoon for that matter, or because I loved to hear the seagulls say "Mine, mine, mine" all the time. I loved it because there is nothing like seeing the different types of life exist together, all in the liquid we call water. Have you ever wondered how we, as humans, can survive with oxygen, food and the proper shelter? On the same note, how can there be so many different types of life under the water, deriving their life from the oxygen that is in the very water that, if we were forced under, would kill us? Hmm...just a thought I've always had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So back to the adventure. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SMyTk8DUzcI/AAAAAAAAABI/AmUxG29D1XE/s1600-h/Living+Planet+Sign.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245729928784432578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 181px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 124px" height="240" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SMyTk8DUzcI/AAAAAAAAABI/AmUxG29D1XE/s320/Living+Planet+Sign.JPG" width="666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Noah, Blake and I made our way into the building. The boys had been there before, so they lead the way. We started at the beginning. Noah went straight for my least favorite sea creature, the octopus. It was red and about as long as Noah is tall, in a tank that I &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SMyYNBUGBzI/AAAAAAAAABg/BtG-jqJBFNM/s1600-h/Seahorse2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245735015438223154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="162" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SMyYNBUGBzI/AAAAAAAAABg/BtG-jqJBFNM/s320/Seahorse2.JPG" width="122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;thought was much too small. Bummer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next stop, the Jelly Fish. Who knew those things swam upside down? Well, maybe I did, but today I was surprised to see them traveling in that way. Seahorses...I forgot how cute those things are. There were all sorts of fish and sea life. I was surprised. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SMycLdKr_hI/AAAAAAAAABo/6x4ewF3qnuA/s1600-h/NoahDolphinHat.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245739386601733650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SMycLdKr_hI/AAAAAAAAABo/6x4ewF3qnuA/s320/NoahDolphinHat.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There was a petting tank with rays in it. Both the boys made a feable attempt at touching a ray, I think more out of being safe from the "stinger" than anything...it didn't seem to make a difference when I mentioned that they didn't have stingers anymore. Oh well. We touched sea stars, saw baby crabs and made our way over to the various tanks that contained fish from Finding Nemo. We &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SMydgFjnpsI/AAAAAAAAAB4/0Kj2I49NXSQ/s1600-h/BlakesScarf.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245740840552736450" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SMydgFjnpsI/AAAAAAAAAB4/0Kj2I49NXSQ/s320/BlakesScarf.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;saw Dory, Gill, Mr. Ray, and of course Marlin and Nemo. There were sharks and eels and other large fish that look like they could eat me in one gulp. After seeing everything, which only took about 45 minutes, Noah had to show me a hat he was a fan of. And Blake showed off his new scarf. We had a great time, I can't complain. I had a great time, short as it was. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/7475912938367506064-573343499739461952?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/573343499739461952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=573343499739461952&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/573343499739461952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/573343499739461952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/09/fish-are-friends-not-food.html' title='Fish Are Friends, Not Food'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K01mh3nY7YM/SMyTk8DUzcI/AAAAAAAAABI/AmUxG29D1XE/s72-c/Living+Planet+Sign.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7475912938367506064.post-1823253460951150745</id><published>2008-09-12T19:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T20:38:33.219-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Who me?</title><content type='html'>A "blogger"? I'm not sure yet. That has yet to be seen. I am definitely NOT a follower. At the same time, I am always looking for a way to express myself creatively. So this is my attempt. Commencing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world through my eyes. Mine are no different than anyone else's, but sometimes I wonder if I have some sort of skewed view of life. Take today for example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have ONE wisdom tooth. Yep, that's right, just one. Now how odd am I? When I was in middle school my dentist told me that I would never have to worry about it, that it would never come out. Now, as anyone who grew up with me knows, I never had the pleasure of having braces. No braces and only ONE wisdom tooth that would never poke it's ugly head out? How lucky can one get!?! I had it made! Well, until about the middle of April this year. Sad day, I know. I wondered what was going on. That guy decided his delivery date would be when I am 28? Who does he think he is? So, two weeks ago I went into see my dentist, Dr. Mark (well, Dr. Geddes, but he about as formal as I am...p.s. I'm not formal.) to get my bi-annual teeth cleaning and inspection. He suggested I get it taken out so that I wouldn't get any "bugs" or cavities back there...hmm...as many of you know, I dislike the dentist and all of the noises that emanate from said office with a passion. WITH A PASSION! So, needless to say, this option was not my first, however it turned out to be my only. So, this morning I gladly took my prescribed Halcion pill an hour before my appointment. I was a little worried it wouldn't kick in in time (hey, it's happened before--can I say BAD?). I took it at 1130am, ate my favorite food, cereal with milk, and sat on the couch. Kary, my "Jen-sitter" for the day, showed up about 5 minutes later. Another 5 minutes passed and I couldn't see straight. I resigned to my bed and let Kary have reign over the TV. From the time I laid down until the time I woke up around 3:30pm, I don't really remember anything. Worked well, I'd say. Still a little out of it, Kary made me some soup. I got a 4 course meal that consisted of Chicken Noodle soup, vanilla pudding, oatmeal creme pies (thank you Little Debbie ;), and gummy bears. What a guy, I know. So, I guess I haven't really seen much today but my bed and a 4 course meal. Oh yes, and my Kary. He has officially earned his "Jen-sitter" badge. I love that man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7475912938367506064-1823253460951150745?l=throughjenseyes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/feeds/1823253460951150745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7475912938367506064&amp;postID=1823253460951150745&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1823253460951150745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7475912938367506064/posts/default/1823253460951150745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://throughjenseyes.blogspot.com/2008/09/who-me.html' title='Who me?'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07210674086380647047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4dG5C8waqE/TdmXvQ3pcNI/AAAAAAAAARE/4od8zk_aCGo/s220/Family%2BPic1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
