tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86394736096339231122024-02-18T19:50:27.028-08:00Christianson Chroniclesa sporadic look into the lives of the Palmer-ChristiansonsLivhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-63972830802444166742012-07-22T15:29:00.000-07:002012-07-22T15:29:45.815-07:00It's 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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You probably didn't notice that it was 2012. I didn't. But since it is, I better post something so that people who come to my blog don't think this it is a fake blog from 2011. Oh wait. Only people who know me come to this blog, and they are all onto the fake blog.<br />
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A lot of things have happened this year. For starters, I learned how to use itunes. Kimball was made a partner at Gem State Radiology. All of my kids had birthdays. We watched hundreds if not thousands of fireworks on July 4th from every window in our house in Eagle, Idaho, where apparently fireworks are purchased like milk and bread. I went with my daughter to Build-A-Bear for the first time (and hopefully last), my youngest son graduated kindergarten, I learned how to say graduated kindergarten instead of graduated FROM kindergarten, my oldest boy started Cub Scouts and asked me for 2 weeks if I like the Bobcat pin they give the moms. What else?.....<br />
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We are really loving the area where we live. It's quiet, and there is a tight community feel. It's safe, and the schools are very good. We think it's beautiful, but since beauty is in the eye of the beholder, we'll let you decide when you come to visit us. Also, it turns out it's very hot. We've had plenty of 100-degree days this month. We don't have fantastic ethnic food options (we do have mediocre ones), and unless you are in the Apple store in Boise proper, we also aren't the picture of diversity. I miss those things, but I make ethnic food, and I feel very diverse; and also, I guess you can't have everything all the time. What we have is pretty darn great, and we are happy campers. Not literally. I don't sleep on rocks with bugs and bears. Focus on the "happy" part.Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-62901578723803542532011-08-24T08:34:00.001-07:002011-08-24T09:24:49.884-07:00Bullies, Friends and a Plea<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGZE3YuZqPo2tWuCnGrC5j8RuQGUCSUw2CynRKp3elEQ0kvmMqDGScKM9Ki1THfohO19VCboQ7IQWofksr7Z3r0O4iDOREikEwVmrEcBRVewTiIyARcQn55LFt0dGfZcoCDprlNzbnW4ac/s1600/002.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644456893916312658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGZE3YuZqPo2tWuCnGrC5j8RuQGUCSUw2CynRKp3elEQ0kvmMqDGScKM9Ki1THfohO19VCboQ7IQWofksr7Z3r0O4iDOREikEwVmrEcBRVewTiIyARcQn55LFt0dGfZcoCDprlNzbnW4ac/s320/002.JPG" /></a>
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<br /><div>My oldest boy Leif is 7. He loves talking to adults and reading the classics. But he loves sports too. This past week I saw him making a menu for a future restaurant. When he saw me looking at "duck-stuffed fennel," he laughed and said, "I just made that up cause I mean, how are you going to get duck into fennel." Then he laughed harder. Last year I had to go into his room every night and remove his Bible from under his head because he would fall asleep reading it. He frequently makes comments during our scripture study that amaze me, like, "If God parted the red sea for Moses that means that he can help me with any of my problems." He's a pretty smart little guy in school and is pretty mature in everything....except socially.</div>
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<br /><div>Last year he was bullied some in school and he's been apprehensive about the same thing happening this year. I don't think I'm a greedy parent. My children don't have to be popular or have droves of friends. Just one or two good friends would make me so happy, but Leif is frequently left off birthday party lists and rarely invited to play with other kids. Yesterday was the second day of school, and I stood off to the side after I dropped him off and watched him in the play yard till school started. He didn't realize I was still there, in fact, he ran right by me when the bell rang. I watched as he enthusiastically went up to group after group of kids to see if he could play with them, and to a person they either said, "no" or just ignored him. He just kept smiling and would move on to the next group, but my heart was breaking inside. </div>
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<br /><div>After school I asked him how it went. He confessed that someone had called him "idiot" on the first day and that for some reason none of the kids would let him play football with them at any of the three recesses. He loves football. When his dad scolded him for interrupting me while we talked, he did something we've rarely seen, he burst into tears and cried for a long time. We knew what he was crying about. Later he went and prayed in his room. I said yet another of many heartfelt prayers myself. I know our challenges can help us be more compassionate and gain character, and hopefully help us learn how to rely more on God and have a personal relationship with him. So I can understand why he lets us experience these (and much worse) difficulties. </div>
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<br /><div>For my part with Leif, we work on social skills every day -- stuff like talking in a soft voice, not talking very much, not being silly, making other people feel good about themselves, etc. </div>
<br /><div>But my plea is this: Can't we teach our children to value everyone, even people who are different. Can't we teach our children to care about other people, even at a young age? We don't just have one or two heartless kids out there, every single kid Leif went up to said he couldn't play with him or turned away. He must have gone up to dozens of kids while I watched. And this is the second school. What could a kid have done so wrong in one day of school that he deserved this? To go back to a bad memory: why would a preschool teacher let all the other kids talk about how Leif wasn't invited to a birthday party during class, without making it a teaching moment? And how could the mother who included every kid except mine in the party be a teacher herself?</div>
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<br /><div>The only answer to me is that our values are changing. With the increase of bullying, both in high schools and colleges, we must be doing something wrong as a society. Are we so focused on teaching our children to be cool, that we can't teach them to be compassionate? Or are we so busy that this is just not on our list of things to worry about. If you aren't talking to your kids about it, they aren't naturally doing it, believe me. When our children don't have a lot of interaction with people different than them, they don't value anything but what is like them. They don't see "others" as people. I've read that video games and all the new social media have taught children to think less of other individuals as real people and to think more of ourselves as the all-important center. I don't know. I just know that Leif, the same person who didn't accept a new lunchbox or backpack this year because he wanted his parents to have more money, will probably never have the social sense to be "cool." I just hope that doesn't mean that he'll always be alone.</div>
<br />Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-8566033467332567672011-08-23T11:27:00.000-07:002011-08-23T12:27:39.310-07:00Around B-Town<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhzkeK6yWn-P6LEanXe9Cprk6RLzQsV9wHuR62Q74YR5Th_G4RndWm2tXIGC7I9lJlephJZQbqa-vfR9-S7jMSBDrWABhqMhdrjAuqkQ4UtkftXoyg9ZY3Ck73MXSydDeodhirEfRZZCh_/s1600/157.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644134717891761474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhzkeK6yWn-P6LEanXe9Cprk6RLzQsV9wHuR62Q74YR5Th_G4RndWm2tXIGC7I9lJlephJZQbqa-vfR9-S7jMSBDrWABhqMhdrjAuqkQ4UtkftXoyg9ZY3Ck73MXSydDeodhirEfRZZCh_/s320/157.JPG" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieouONIPq3zaJ3YzktjGXuQv_Vzd5gQR8bBFa9FrEPRB-UHXihiWrUqW_0Z23fdEuzxnJ1VdaUdMapmpiFhf9E9iL2lU1mqblrE3ZLrQrQ98odEmZvQx4c8g58RlfRjSUTqxIPPUsznHLF/s1600/050.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644120375849541698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieouONIPq3zaJ3YzktjGXuQv_Vzd5gQR8bBFa9FrEPRB-UHXihiWrUqW_0Z23fdEuzxnJ1VdaUdMapmpiFhf9E9iL2lU1mqblrE3ZLrQrQ98odEmZvQx4c8g58RlfRjSUTqxIPPUsznHLF/s320/050.JPG" /></a>
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<br /><div>We're getting settled in, and I thought I'd post a few pictures of the Boise area. They're all taken downtown -- mostly at the farmer's market, except the very last. My sister Darcie and her kids and my dad were in town so we had a great time walking around the farmer's market wating for an hour and a half to get into Goldy's. Goldy's is a breakfast place that made the top 10 breakfast eateries in the U.S. a couple years ago and consistently is mentioned in food publications. It's a very nice way to start the day. The last picture is along a property I want to buy, but they want a lot of buttons for it. Buttons, buttons.</div></div></div></div></div>
<br />Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-61443899490282853522011-08-23T11:14:00.000-07:002011-08-23T11:24:41.580-07:00Idaho has a beach? What?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE0lyIsKTcu_k6UeKhSbSZuZyLPnkvGQOvTqkjCHSXT1DbK9rBfWf7-Bxdviw0xZhW3Xnuf0LsZPv8pq5KvSLSuuhVwNDpus4ler7srqaUWvB7kIYq8QnPDdwQ3jtkk8J7N3LJYWkVG56d/s1600/175.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644118454559134082" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE0lyIsKTcu_k6UeKhSbSZuZyLPnkvGQOvTqkjCHSXT1DbK9rBfWf7-Bxdviw0xZhW3Xnuf0LsZPv8pq5KvSLSuuhVwNDpus4ler7srqaUWvB7kIYq8QnPDdwQ3jtkk8J7N3LJYWkVG56d/s320/175.JPG" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtL-mkUC8N96Tt2zh-cX_8OTiv7VcYREFNmGkDyiHCwKl8i7OLFVhcYQsyu8d2wZjIN8LjIUKYzKuVM_m-e4sU4Vly-gHo06xd1dFdA4ZO8pB1As5be3eGb2ASaYioToeyD7Hf1ldC1gcc/s1600/171.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644118445973183746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtL-mkUC8N96Tt2zh-cX_8OTiv7VcYREFNmGkDyiHCwKl8i7OLFVhcYQsyu8d2wZjIN8LjIUKYzKuVM_m-e4sU4Vly-gHo06xd1dFdA4ZO8pB1As5be3eGb2ASaYioToeyD7Hf1ldC1gcc/s320/171.JPG" /></a>
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<br /><div>Not really, but we had a really great time at Cascade Lake a few weeks ago. It's about 70 miles from Boise, and the drive is spectacular. You feel like you're in the Northwest (some people who live in Boise think they are, but thinking folk don't like to say it out loud). The Payette River is large and stunning and you pass through some beautiful pine forests on the way as well. I'm not big into lakes without sand because they don't usually gradually get deep, and I don't like sitting in mud. Also I don't fish. Sand reminds me of the years we spent in Maryland, Hawaii and North Carolina -- all wonderful memories. Kimball and I were both born in FL -- me in the Florida Keys so I was born with sand in my hair. It was so quiet at this lake that I kept looking around, wondering if we were in the right place. They had these little mailboxes out that said the state park fee was $5, and if you didn't pay it, you'd be charged a $5 surcharge. Ummmm...I don't think that's going to deter anyone, Park Service, and from what I could see, it didn't. We paid our 5 bucks.</div></div></div></div>
<br />Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-74906723882331953992011-08-22T17:18:00.000-07:002011-08-23T11:14:23.047-07:00Last time on these stairs<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSegr9n_cwlZiw3vIYH_pr-0st_-eebGuhkGsc_JTtw5VWhkXuvM2GrNzCPunPSzaRrgmSnOC7CzNbblT3WlUM-kOc6DbwpvGwN3pZuTy4Zea7gI-tPOY9Ezl-qdVsjj28sPX4Yd_aAqQ8/s1600/016.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644115988720071986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSegr9n_cwlZiw3vIYH_pr-0st_-eebGuhkGsc_JTtw5VWhkXuvM2GrNzCPunPSzaRrgmSnOC7CzNbblT3WlUM-kOc6DbwpvGwN3pZuTy4Zea7gI-tPOY9Ezl-qdVsjj28sPX4Yd_aAqQ8/s320/016.JPG" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjprMpFUAA5BBcf8kvD4QQDMwmXPWkVg0VmzOy1C6z0li-a6CkhC3_byuX38gxT9WM7OrS7P_ImNNLdhxl3XTqH3cq6EOGLxTP5PgIdGbS7hhKP1ZaYtIJRc0uDxzXeLk2ukgyfiLNuYsNx/s1600/014.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644115981243252946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjprMpFUAA5BBcf8kvD4QQDMwmXPWkVg0VmzOy1C6z0li-a6CkhC3_byuX38gxT9WM7OrS7P_ImNNLdhxl3XTqH3cq6EOGLxTP5PgIdGbS7hhKP1ZaYtIJRc0uDxzXeLk2ukgyfiLNuYsNx/s320/014.JPG" /></a>
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<br /><div>I took a few pictures of Paia and Gus on the stairs of our NC home before we sold it. Last time. So many firsts and so many lasts on this adventure Kimball and I have been on. We've lived in 8 apts/homes in the past 10 years and lived in four states. I hope we won't be moving again, although the thought sends a sudden rush of anxiety through me. I don't think I've lived anywhere for more than 5 years consecutively in my whole life with my Dad's military career and Kimball's medical training. </div></div></div>
<br />Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-547587433181327892011-03-06T16:57:00.000-08:002011-03-06T17:40:09.858-08:00The Kids Yo<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwAy4JIEdysvHRi9QCZOAxcqP1mRQ5Ookxk57GAdoBG9Y2zt3LOO_z8r0-Y0TYHWmwHonadX6hB8ZnJEb2nC6OCQ25FSX6O6Vwpl9MN2nvU49XzmE7NUHJ6iiA03XU1L-zViHkVPPTRHzs/s1600/kidzpop.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581145650618223570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwAy4JIEdysvHRi9QCZOAxcqP1mRQ5Ookxk57GAdoBG9Y2zt3LOO_z8r0-Y0TYHWmwHonadX6hB8ZnJEb2nC6OCQ25FSX6O6Vwpl9MN2nvU49XzmE7NUHJ6iiA03XU1L-zViHkVPPTRHzs/s320/kidzpop.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiptr88fY1tI_YUX_tty1_xNR9YIOL44NQUEeozWAXzg7G0thmb_S5XLRbh9YMUx4Ll6-aG53QJ6Q5gFPU4s8Pm5mjPoXNTD6-pf7SMo7ZnIIAwG_TnOzaidqhBUhh0_OE8I5bL8hQFqSWR/s1600/crazies.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581144235924214290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiptr88fY1tI_YUX_tty1_xNR9YIOL44NQUEeozWAXzg7G0thmb_S5XLRbh9YMUx4Ll6-aG53QJ6Q5gFPU4s8Pm5mjPoXNTD6-pf7SMo7ZnIIAwG_TnOzaidqhBUhh0_OE8I5bL8hQFqSWR/s320/crazies.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn3ywLQG7Z3TN5HEepxU2qwlqFy_RKlI7Z8r06s_zfjlZwqQ6EqZgXHKaWSQwwDFSSUM6SvAOzWE9QoHehvdWJfk2Qb_4giqGKDx3HGUx_wrxWI3hvgeYeBdCbXMAQwgHQsX8BnxGvn04-/s1600/cuckoos.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581144230047525762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn3ywLQG7Z3TN5HEepxU2qwlqFy_RKlI7Z8r06s_zfjlZwqQ6EqZgXHKaWSQwwDFSSUM6SvAOzWE9QoHehvdWJfk2Qb_4giqGKDx3HGUx_wrxWI3hvgeYeBdCbXMAQwgHQsX8BnxGvn04-/s320/cuckoos.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqJOvMckXEv6FJysoLa71LL0VTctR7bis9pnIv_JkCEKXwwcARsbXHJb8dq1iQbG9j-vsy5Fs2Xro7ogVLH87hnImv8sMVa5FY0OxXTl_sad_A_41_WrFLn8U7DzOWDWwJx4xiNFs4NiS6/s1600/sillies.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581144219943924498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqJOvMckXEv6FJysoLa71LL0VTctR7bis9pnIv_JkCEKXwwcARsbXHJb8dq1iQbG9j-vsy5Fs2Xro7ogVLH87hnImv8sMVa5FY0OxXTl_sad_A_41_WrFLn8U7DzOWDWwJx4xiNFs4NiS6/s320/sillies.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-n1Y10NLcGKJlLq0bBQEsMb6cXVGicPClKUbCCKCnQs0HxCq76U0YfMh9R4gzLu8NLkCVGWQu6xoj031wb4fQPfR2ngY9cFAcidARDvQiDSCBFNIKDENB6Gv0eZST0dUnABAlbLh4dSvJ/s1600/Dec10Jan2011+163.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581144223809402274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-n1Y10NLcGKJlLq0bBQEsMb6cXVGicPClKUbCCKCnQs0HxCq76U0YfMh9R4gzLu8NLkCVGWQu6xoj031wb4fQPfR2ngY9cFAcidARDvQiDSCBFNIKDENB6Gv0eZST0dUnABAlbLh4dSvJ/s320/Dec10Jan2011+163.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhugKrFwtZ-thu5E5zvpBHOfi79LfspyDkdGC409f6ojji_WWag_Vw3Q9FtZGe8VAKWZYGHRGyla_i1EZA48cnGyqq5XAJRKb8S3_7Xyp3VfaaAgZZN8stt7S4q7ausGzOti6foeL6QWNRl/s1600/Dec10Jan2011+173.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581144216274158386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhugKrFwtZ-thu5E5zvpBHOfi79LfspyDkdGC409f6ojji_WWag_Vw3Q9FtZGe8VAKWZYGHRGyla_i1EZA48cnGyqq5XAJRKb8S3_7Xyp3VfaaAgZZN8stt7S4q7ausGzOti6foeL6QWNRl/s320/Dec10Jan2011+173.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9fvQOP2f9lXotdN2fV9RU3yKJB7WE6gigsJsAeffQjhjljk9cBIF_shDdo8qUcWpFZ6lA51iT6GUJ2KMhF9Mo0MaJEIMLavKP2b-R2thzJHN9dX3MlEy5LyCwMqbr2jbGjDfjkPb0yvhY/s1600/happy+Ia.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581137726228319826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9fvQOP2f9lXotdN2fV9RU3yKJB7WE6gigsJsAeffQjhjljk9cBIF_shDdo8qUcWpFZ6lA51iT6GUJ2KMhF9Mo0MaJEIMLavKP2b-R2thzJHN9dX3MlEy5LyCwMqbr2jbGjDfjkPb0yvhY/s320/happy+Ia.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTo4x0Cq-xToCuweouJnVKR9bhAb0Y1_Ena-3_ZAtMpi8W0-_gNm0Cpv7IeMyuYpgPtN9CVPNvdeUTCwKPCO2PhQGOEHl2NZsEix-UnZZRBS2p6xDfCFT7SlY6XRvW9RdkJmQOZMQhLM3z/s1600/depressed.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581137728257575298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTo4x0Cq-xToCuweouJnVKR9bhAb0Y1_Ena-3_ZAtMpi8W0-_gNm0Cpv7IeMyuYpgPtN9CVPNvdeUTCwKPCO2PhQGOEHl2NZsEix-UnZZRBS2p6xDfCFT7SlY6XRvW9RdkJmQOZMQhLM3z/s320/depressed.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiC8r36Be5F-aYxxtGv7ueEeI9tH61uCZlnnjm0W9PL0dUoOf9Z5jytVgrWTOnFRCswfKX4XWMf3TnBjqVyJ5bAO7oMT9z7Wlui_PS2uvmUEqQ7NLTLG5bzMtw596i7WYIHZE0jHkajIKK/s1600/pensive.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581137722374194962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiC8r36Be5F-aYxxtGv7ueEeI9tH61uCZlnnjm0W9PL0dUoOf9Z5jytVgrWTOnFRCswfKX4XWMf3TnBjqVyJ5bAO7oMT9z7Wlui_PS2uvmUEqQ7NLTLG5bzMtw596i7WYIHZE0jHkajIKK/s320/pensive.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>Just posting a few pictures of my kids. The first one is of Gus and Ia jammin out to the new kidzbop cd that their Palmer California cousins sent them. The rest are ones that I took of them on the stairs in our house. I'm a dreadful photographer, and my kids aren't particularly helpful subjects either. I'm getting the feeling though that a good photographer doesn't need helpful subjects. Just a feeling. </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-46236895886111375182011-03-06T16:40:00.001-08:002011-03-06T16:57:27.845-08:00Duke Chapel<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPGdeml8UwrjgifB2e1v5Mps_JyOjJMn_0DflCkyWYJA0xr_cwUmOuK47cN_K6zX0mGKJyf-6GQOI-3Js0Oco-S98qjDXH3qiRTNcT7ACEZSav8xpSAeYPYlCQcNoQWsG_C30Zv__hYnQi/s1600/Dec10Jan2011+007.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581133956869825202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPGdeml8UwrjgifB2e1v5Mps_JyOjJMn_0DflCkyWYJA0xr_cwUmOuK47cN_K6zX0mGKJyf-6GQOI-3Js0Oco-S98qjDXH3qiRTNcT7ACEZSav8xpSAeYPYlCQcNoQWsG_C30Zv__hYnQi/s320/Dec10Jan2011+007.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMOcvtVdXeTcnbGqCOniAkvMELNt2bEbRNP2He9ukbCfdiTIbe9i7Tb6_mZq9KC4S-7VJR_vbgAhfkYVSDPy9XyhI7NpduOT_ojNISq9e6kTs4Ne4obhidWgzEWEMIIvWe6945hsB-wE50/s1600/Dec10Jan2011+004.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581133952068836850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMOcvtVdXeTcnbGqCOniAkvMELNt2bEbRNP2He9ukbCfdiTIbe9i7Tb6_mZq9KC4S-7VJR_vbgAhfkYVSDPy9XyhI7NpduOT_ojNISq9e6kTs4Ne4obhidWgzEWEMIIvWe6945hsB-wE50/s320/Dec10Jan2011+004.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfxYkMB6s4m-DNjL34V2b0xopGarGwChmMu5XjsaRP8XGNTdDxlaRlYQeiC310aXDQ-65Ic8IZ_rULmovqf3nLLyfzLBa0JG8NVd_9ZXa05cAQmGqxcY2FvYLGeW2mSa5_ygBChXnDBN3/s1600/Dec10Jan2011+006.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581133947913380498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfxYkMB6s4m-DNjL34V2b0xopGarGwChmMu5XjsaRP8XGNTdDxlaRlYQeiC310aXDQ-65Ic8IZ_rULmovqf3nLLyfzLBa0JG8NVd_9ZXa05cAQmGqxcY2FvYLGeW2mSa5_ygBChXnDBN3/s320/Dec10Jan2011+006.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7TOUrunuaDV93k-VjNc2VAQqwyKFdKlkuVRbAqmP1VZZzREPVnGhhHCo0Kkc_hBuYt-3XKY_msp8ei83gqQqZwRDWSF-uNrP5WNGF0ilFfavesSGGcSE5ly6DZSaQcemhyphenhyphenv52rVpUwXr/s1600/Dec10Jan2011+002.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581132528174203698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7TOUrunuaDV93k-VjNc2VAQqwyKFdKlkuVRbAqmP1VZZzREPVnGhhHCo0Kkc_hBuYt-3XKY_msp8ei83gqQqZwRDWSF-uNrP5WNGF0ilFfavesSGGcSE5ly6DZSaQcemhyphenhyphenv52rVpUwXr/s320/Dec10Jan2011+002.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>One thing we've loved while we have been in Durham is going for a stroll through the Duke Gardens or talking a walk through the Duke Chapel on campus. The architecture and stained-glass windows are absolutely stunning, and I got teary the first time I went inside. We went to a children's concert there at Christmas time and took some pictures with the kids. </div></div></div></div>Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-70008052891493353792010-10-31T19:04:00.000-07:002010-10-31T20:34:31.389-07:00Our Happy Halloween<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKeqJdwbdfqxuwT_vUMSCnzsbZq6K-gUaadte_bso_krh0zEz_md8cCrI9q0h6bF2J1rsP5qxF3Q07w3F5tK8AYfk9QCqnGBtY1yNGx25rkItUyK8zVJaY6gpSpmMFvGoIj387EUb7ZtVI/s1600/DSC03999-1.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKeqJdwbdfqxuwT_vUMSCnzsbZq6K-gUaadte_bso_krh0zEz_md8cCrI9q0h6bF2J1rsP5qxF3Q07w3F5tK8AYfk9QCqnGBtY1yNGx25rkItUyK8zVJaY6gpSpmMFvGoIj387EUb7ZtVI/s320/DSC03999-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534415298414074722" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJX49XdyG91rxl-FYgaAhaQkyb8n7klo6NrtSRYI61ovMKV5cfptubULXr2ifwn3tFMvTJLb0vi2NePaD6GsjzM-EGASx1YSjNUgPHyD2monNmoI_WoxNhGtC6DLqgqgy27kkbEpxyCLOC/s1600/DSC03998.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; 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width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoNOGLXqLtFdOO7PUUznfeU_xMLqyL8Vhyphenhyphen-Tn1x97RVITVkD-EzKTWWGL0kii63Vd8vKCXvdPD0YTuyyruKNt6McITOjHDTukHhs8jwm7NfrbsKLv5rN5uNWN2zQcz_iqsi_6o3cWO0oHV/s320/DSC03949.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534398903679946914" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKu9ONUOudYnRmhXMo9p_po-44fFRs01i1uPMr-1AJ0_nERlWGjeiJXXc_J-gEqmvqgToGgVu0SsqIYq5p87slCp2VzyUT66mCih1ca0NuAFwHoaDR00jXCwjJ8Ia_SFmXyGfYALlGP2vj/s1600/DSC03947.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKu9ONUOudYnRmhXMo9p_po-44fFRs01i1uPMr-1AJ0_nERlWGjeiJXXc_J-gEqmvqgToGgVu0SsqIYq5p87slCp2VzyUT66mCih1ca0NuAFwHoaDR00jXCwjJ8Ia_SFmXyGfYALlGP2vj/s320/DSC03947.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534398443513560770" border="0" /></a><br />We did the usual traditional stuff this year -- cutting up the Jack-o-lantern (no idea where Gus left his shirt during this event), going to our church trunk or treat, trick or treating, and trying to make ourselves sick on pumpkin-flavored treats before we've even hit November. Our neighborhood elected to have our Halloween festivities on Saturday, and it was perfect weather. Ia and Gus decided to wear different costumes than they had the night before at the church trunk or treat. They have before and after pictures. At the trunk or treat, I even got a couple of shots of my husband and his twin brother in the same place at the same time! That's not so uncommon nowadays, but it used to be that since they both do radiology for Duke, if one was off, the other was on. Sorry the pictures are all out of order. Clearly I don't understand this first in, last posted concept.Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-40666832292317774742010-10-24T14:24:00.000-07:002010-10-25T09:02:06.451-07:00We're headed to Boise!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRMJhR4g0_vdQDoImgeiIIQsb6VosxtnjqQdfbKdwCeirLzQtBzsrLR673o6iqOxGCj6e2jMU6hi8QgqR2_a7Rg1IwJtCKiCxAMK0Dlp4R4B4r1UPh-bai54gCgUcwGvi3dTjSPJnurjXA/s1600/Boise+trees.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRMJhR4g0_vdQDoImgeiIIQsb6VosxtnjqQdfbKdwCeirLzQtBzsrLR673o6iqOxGCj6e2jMU6hi8QgqR2_a7Rg1IwJtCKiCxAMK0Dlp4R4B4r1UPh-bai54gCgUcwGvi3dTjSPJnurjXA/s320/Boise+trees.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532013617031954226" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1aJqbYGdSx2cWUxBEv0CaoMruQhHQmEsPfS9_khzeX-IBNN0TCD02p3guXLjMFfh41JitRmWuMsh9wtG8-mnPEtTMJhtp6YBPAzCuG5I7wwgYtIl23LjI9X7Vsi4rwhykY2aSDU-FF2ty/s1600/boise+river.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1aJqbYGdSx2cWUxBEv0CaoMruQhHQmEsPfS9_khzeX-IBNN0TCD02p3guXLjMFfh41JitRmWuMsh9wtG8-mnPEtTMJhtp6YBPAzCuG5I7wwgYtIl23LjI9X7Vsi4rwhykY2aSDU-FF2ty/s320/boise+river.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532013427411349458" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtkzX1Pmi6Ap21D6B4EYXmlIP9N6b1QDRKC743Fw4Jcodp3SnGmxOVCrVwy05vjnOc5csmECqnv52NBD5Lm_MT7CTnNKm9ER_HtKmR3RehEcalYL3rPMq-iJFv1zRN-xUDXi_gtPpvuavB/s1600/Riversend.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtkzX1Pmi6Ap21D6B4EYXmlIP9N6b1QDRKC743Fw4Jcodp3SnGmxOVCrVwy05vjnOc5csmECqnv52NBD5Lm_MT7CTnNKm9ER_HtKmR3RehEcalYL3rPMq-iJFv1zRN-xUDXi_gtPpvuavB/s320/Riversend.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532013139689593298" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6vCh9cl8V-h34CBYsMAV19CngIirGdbjrLCCCw1lgIc_NAcoEJr3q0-zw1J6rsJVLfm0XRBFVm2UFns73MHsjM_n-VNVORcdSE0iS69BvGllWMxs7uOpDcmJ-t5_zV3lJuQhokop2QAh/s1600/Boise+freeway.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6vCh9cl8V-h34CBYsMAV19CngIirGdbjrLCCCw1lgIc_NAcoEJr3q0-zw1J6rsJVLfm0XRBFVm2UFns73MHsjM_n-VNVORcdSE0iS69BvGllWMxs7uOpDcmJ-t5_zV3lJuQhokop2QAh/s320/Boise+freeway.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531997187729566066" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcHS_IIIXtAJCjSJKuJOpzriEQSva_5L7ovXuNgjVk2Rpai6XSGoJxHNQOipTHtaA7yGaPjQWiKtq88oICJZWPm1cstNpfqIQl_cVAldvnSwmH4JE43WOhyphenhyphen2IfeWyaBmEQcj5qmMSVSa2-/s1600/Boise_skyline.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcHS_IIIXtAJCjSJKuJOpzriEQSva_5L7ovXuNgjVk2Rpai6XSGoJxHNQOipTHtaA7yGaPjQWiKtq88oICJZWPm1cstNpfqIQl_cVAldvnSwmH4JE43WOhyphenhyphen2IfeWyaBmEQcj5qmMSVSa2-/s320/Boise_skyline.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531970354837180338" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Fjgo-mwTGbnkTuU8aSrknKLFeY_sY3EPVV_-LDqdFKFtdCa8WPdlwvL3DC_NkYLzjSP5gf15TofE9H91LS0XfSgch3I4jMJHAe8YublYSMJ4S6P6S-EPLxHhomINfPDyAtWWaTfu5iB9/s1600/P7170360.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Fjgo-mwTGbnkTuU8aSrknKLFeY_sY3EPVV_-LDqdFKFtdCa8WPdlwvL3DC_NkYLzjSP5gf15TofE9H91LS0XfSgch3I4jMJHAe8YublYSMJ4S6P6S-EPLxHhomINfPDyAtWWaTfu5iB9/s320/P7170360.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531933031219393506" /></a><br />After 10 years of medical training, Kim is finally accepting his first job (and hopefully his last) in Boise, Idaho. He'll be working for a group called Gem State Radiology. Although we've felt led there and really good about it, it was a very hard decision because the other places where we had offers were either gorgeous, in our home state, or had really nice and wonderful people in the radiology group. We also have very close friends in two of the cities. All said and done, we felt supremely grateful that Kim has a job in this hard market, and that we feel very excited about our final decision. It's going to break my heart to leave the Triangle area of North Carolina, but I'll deal with that when I have to.<br /><br />So I just wanted to say that if you're not familiar, Boise isn't what you're thinking. It's not a desolate place in the middle of Idaho where everyone is a cowboy. Not to knock cowboys because my grandpa falls into that category, and I loved me a cowboy or two as a young 'un. We'll be living in Eagle, ID, which is basically a suburb of Boise (sorry Eagle peeps!) of around 11,000 people. Kimball covers the western part of Idaho so that will lessen his commute each way a good 20 minutes. But back to Boise. It's really clean, even right in the downtown and it's also very safe. We compared crime rates of all the cities we were considering and Boise was the lowest, even lower than Salt Lake City, which wasn't that low. hee. We stayed in a hotel downtown for the interviewing process, and I have to say it felt Twilight Zonish to go outside in the middle of a downtown where everyone was friendly and we could walk around at 9:00 p.m. and things were still beautifully tidy and safe.<br /><br />I know you're going to need proof, hence the pictures. Some of the other great things about the Boise area -- it's super affordable. The homes are not expensive, and the taxes aren't bad. Milk is not $5 a gallon, which is what it was when we were living in Denver. The schools are great. The high schools in almost every area are rated really well, which can't be said for all cities. In fact, one gorgeous and charming city we considered, had a 50% drop out rate for its high school. Other areas, you had to be careful where you lived to get into the good high school, which is pretty much par for the course in every city. The city is progressive and has wonderful farmer's markets, a big local eating movement, and other green developments that I really appreciated. Although the big mountains aren't in view, from the city, they have some really striking foothills in Boise. At certain times of the year, they are covered with yellowish-bronze grasses that make them look a shimmery gold color. The sunrises and sunsets bounce off of the foothill angles more dramatically than they do mountains with large slopes. Do I wish I had larger mountains? Yeah, that would be the one thing that I'd change. But, there are beautiful rivers, trees, and grass doesn't struggle to grow. Did I mention there are lots of mountains in ID within driving distance?<br /><br />They have a nice zoo that we visited, and lots of family activities. We went to an "Art in the Park" in the downtown and it was amazing how easy it was to navigate around the people. The population isn't huge so we felt like the airport was our personal jetpad, and parking wasn't an issue anywhere. I know the Boiseans complain about their traffic, but after living in Denver and in the East for most of my married life, it just wasn't "traffic" to me. To top things off, we're only five or so hours from where are parents live, and we loved that we have a good-sized community of our religious faith, without being the majority. So, everyone move to Boise! Or at least come visit us -- we're close to Sun Valley and the Tetons, not to mention countless other little resort areas. :)Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-84925187319927326842010-10-24T14:14:00.001-07:002010-10-24T14:24:37.175-07:00Cut the hair<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTBqF7ZwOH_q2a0z68HT3YWL2N0N6XLus-GXFrD9NqK4QkogHwJrqOTgAKU_FLlPLodltyPp_uEPJ8jOmOH-X1aq3H5uOjwnxhZFIpBmduXXDrZO2olp3KRdl4CnhD7SorPzIJ6tovjbgD/s1600/haircut.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTBqF7ZwOH_q2a0z68HT3YWL2N0N6XLus-GXFrD9NqK4QkogHwJrqOTgAKU_FLlPLodltyPp_uEPJ8jOmOH-X1aq3H5uOjwnxhZFIpBmduXXDrZO2olp3KRdl4CnhD7SorPzIJ6tovjbgD/s320/haircut.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531726492465067730" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAdw87xpTogiBOujCSIhEjgJBGSgMVxiN-HlAFXKozW0U24uAkAAchbnc1ZkUm3xDZCrBw-aoPCwHLBqgqNtJ_aSdFkZVX23InT6vv-VoPue7hax04N-NVchvlVEBV4qUz3SWoJa_JrdYn/s1600/DSC03927.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAdw87xpTogiBOujCSIhEjgJBGSgMVxiN-HlAFXKozW0U24uAkAAchbnc1ZkUm3xDZCrBw-aoPCwHLBqgqNtJ_aSdFkZVX23InT6vv-VoPue7hax04N-NVchvlVEBV4qUz3SWoJa_JrdYn/s320/DSC03927.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531725718120574322" /></a><br />I cut my hair shorter for the first time in 15 years. Man, it's so nice how easy it is to fix. For some strange reason, I really love long hair though. Do I love the versatility of being able to pull it back into a really greasy looking ponytail? I don't know, but that's what I was doing every day. I like a change every decade and a half or so, and this qualifies. It will be long again in half a year. In the end, it's like my mom told me when I was 11, "Olivia, it's vain to act like everyone else in the world cares about your hair." ha, ha.Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-27996352380942805122010-07-05T15:34:00.000-07:002010-07-05T15:56:52.838-07:00Etouffee<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiRXFwnxp5Gb3Iy4zxAdm8XD9ixL-gMk0PNOaS9yRMRoOyPgNNw1NSB8OjApcVK1s5UdLnyV9-YQ7bvNhgzBmyZQKWHB_dlNPoc_LGxhG0ujDrM7Dgs0zO95h_HaqwNQ9wq7W2Hw8hCoom/s1600/P1210032-1.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiRXFwnxp5Gb3Iy4zxAdm8XD9ixL-gMk0PNOaS9yRMRoOyPgNNw1NSB8OjApcVK1s5UdLnyV9-YQ7bvNhgzBmyZQKWHB_dlNPoc_LGxhG0ujDrM7Dgs0zO95h_HaqwNQ9wq7W2Hw8hCoom/s320/P1210032-1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490559690798320162" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8SEpxh2LVgueZSXGxMjwE5mKAUXRG5TdDsjYiwPvngFCH6kaJuaORC2P5EcFAkwXxCanwi-KFGo6-NUTuwsKUEQV5Uu2GUijQs5eRgdlXBaFHzahK0g3sNMCD1vDS7n2_VjVxh7Z1GzT/s1600/P1210030-1.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8SEpxh2LVgueZSXGxMjwE5mKAUXRG5TdDsjYiwPvngFCH6kaJuaORC2P5EcFAkwXxCanwi-KFGo6-NUTuwsKUEQV5Uu2GUijQs5eRgdlXBaFHzahK0g3sNMCD1vDS7n2_VjVxh7Z1GzT/s320/P1210030-1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490559681928718802" /></a><br />While I was doing missionary service with my church in Louisiana, I discovered Crawfish Etouffee. It's one of those wonderful Cajun dishes that every family in Louisiana seems to have their own recipe for. You have to serve it over rice or you'll be considered a heretic. I sometimes substitute shrimp for the crawfish, but I've been surprised at how easy it is to find crawfish -- Walmart and Harris Teeter carry it, for example. And please, serve this with Tabasco. Here's my recipe:<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Etouffee</span><br />Ingredients<br />4 tablespoons olive oil<br />4 tablespoons butter<br />1 to 1-1/2 cups chopped onion<br />1 cup chopped bell pepper (mix colors if you like)<br />1 cup chopped celery<br />4 to 6 cloves garlic, chopped<br />1 pound shrimp or crawfish tail meat <br />cayenne pepper to taste <br />4 tablespoons flour<br />1 medium tomato, chopped<br />2 cups chicken stock<br />About 3/4 cup chopped green onion tops<br />About 3/4 cup chopped flat-leaf parsley<br />1 to 2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice<br /><br />In a large sauté pan with fairly high sides (see photos), heat the oil and melt the butter over medium-high heat.<br />Add the onion, bell pepper, celery, garlic, and 1/2 teaspoon of salt to the melted butter and oil. Stir to coat the vegetables, then reduce heat to medium. Cook, stirring regularly, until the vegetables are fragrant and visibly softened but not browned, about 5 minutes. <br />Add the shrimp or crawfish and the ground red pepper. Cook for 1 minute while stirring. Add the flour, stir to evenly distribute it, and cook, stirring frequently, for 2 to 3 minutes.<br />Add the tomato and cook for 1 minute. Add the chicken stock and stir thoroughly to combine. <br />As the sauce comes to a simmer, taste it and add salt if necessary. Don't add too much salt, as the sauce will reduce in volume a bit as it simmers and so become saltier. <br />When the mixture reaches a simmer, reduce heat and simmer for 15 to 20 minutes. The sauce will thicken noticeably.<br />Taste and add salt and tabasco, if desired. Add the onion tops, parsley, and lemon juice, then stir to combine and remove the pan from heat. Serve with rice.Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-46029028106861148372010-04-25T11:13:00.000-07:002010-04-25T12:27:18.006-07:00Easter Festivities<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEWEcnCwz8rme8jQF3PbV08TDFERBX9x1uyzv08A3YbOrjdLHTu4Yd88GhnoGaHnaV3n2FSYHSlMR9RerLeNylgrXCl6gwH-9IE1r72KNVJEvr9yGudgqKhSz-ke8xjxbhdhYBEdFEAL6Q/s1600/P4030131.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEWEcnCwz8rme8jQF3PbV08TDFERBX9x1uyzv08A3YbOrjdLHTu4Yd88GhnoGaHnaV3n2FSYHSlMR9RerLeNylgrXCl6gwH-9IE1r72KNVJEvr9yGudgqKhSz-ke8xjxbhdhYBEdFEAL6Q/s320/P4030131.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464158330919907250" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjflPU-0rjN0svG-z2DhQUGu-81m_WjbPc8XbA1ify3xEZjlZruvvzNKVVP1oNUwTE6XoFFKbp8vmptnHSNK41cnpQFRnLkruCEqRSjbWHLy3Cx5ZxzQ2vp4P5kRenq4FBQVy_yDXzVPgNn/s1600/together.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjflPU-0rjN0svG-z2DhQUGu-81m_WjbPc8XbA1ify3xEZjlZruvvzNKVVP1oNUwTE6XoFFKbp8vmptnHSNK41cnpQFRnLkruCEqRSjbWHLy3Cx5ZxzQ2vp4P5kRenq4FBQVy_yDXzVPgNn/s320/together.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464158325655349730" border="0" /></a>
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<br />We had a pretty great Easter, minus the urgent care visit for a case of pink eye. Kimball's mom, Helen, was at our house on Saturday so that's when we decorated eggs and had an egg hunt. I was really glad that I was relieved from managing this because I'm not one for all the mess that comes with egg decorating, but I'm all for tradition and fun for the kids.
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<br />One of the most meaningful traditions we have at Easter is a lesson that involves opening different eggs, each with a symbol related to the last week of the Savior's life. The best part is taking out individual pictures of family members (on egg # 5) when we talk about who the atonement was for. I also love opening the last egg, which is empty, and asking the kids what that means. I'm so grateful for the Savior's all-encompassing atonement, especially because it provides me with strength to get through hard times, allows me to be clean from sin, and will enable me to be with the people I love someday. I don't have any doubt of these things because of the experiences I have with the Spirit every day. They are as real as touch, sight, sound or any of the physical senses and more profound and lasting.
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<br />EASTER EGG LESSON
<br /><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Colivia%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="time"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} p {mso-margin-top-alt:auto; margin-right:0in; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <p>One (a leaf or very small branch): When Jesus entered <st1:city><st1:place>Jerusalem</st1:place></st1:city>, the people waved branches because that's what people used to do when a king walked by. <i style="">And many spread their garments in the way: and others cut down branches off the trees, and strawed them in the way. And they that went before, and they that followed, cried, saying, Hosanna; Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord: (Mark 11:8-9)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p>Two (scrap of cloth sprayed with perfume): Later, Jesus was at dinner with his friends. A woman came and poured perfume on his head. This showed that she knew that he was the Christ and she knew that he would die soon. <i style="">And being in </i><st1:city><st1:place><i style="">Bethany</i></st1:place></st1:city><i style=""> in the house of Simon the leper, as [Jesus] sat at meat, there came a woman having an alabaster box of ointment of spikenard very precious; and she brake the box, and poured it on his head. (Mark 14:3)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p>Three (piece of tortilla or bread): The next day, Jesus had another special meal with his disciples. We call this The Last Supper. This is when the sacrament began, because Jesus said that people who followed Him should have bread and drink to help them remember Him. <i style="">And as they did eat, Jesus took bread, and blessed, and brake it, and gave to them, and said, Take, eat: this is my body. (Mark </i><st1:time minute="22" hour="14"><i style="">14:22</i></st1:time><i style="">)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p>Four (bandaid and pictures of family members –explain how much suffering in Gethsemane hurt the Savior, but he did it for each one of us – this was touching for us as we asked who the Savior did it for and pulled out each family member's picture): Jesus went to a garden to pray. Here, he suffered for our sins. Because He did this for us, we can repent and live in heaven again. <i style="">For behold, I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent; but if they would not repent they must suffer even as I; which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit”and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink”nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my preparations unto the children of men. (D&C 19:16-19)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p>Five (silver coins – dimes): Judas was supposed to be one of Jesus special helpers, but instead he helped other men arrest Jesus. He did this because those men paid him money. <i style="">And Judas Iscariot, one of the twelve, went unto the chief priests, to betray him unto them. And when they heard it, they were glad, and promised to give him money. And he sought how he might conveniently betray him. (Mark 14:10-11) <o:p></o:p></i></p> <p>Six (piece of purple cloth or paper): After Jesus was arrested, the soldiers were really mean to Him and made fun of Him. One thing that they did was to put a purple robe on Him. Only kings wore purple robes. They didn't realize that He really was a King”they were just teasing Him because people thought He was a king! <i style="">And the soldiers led him away into the hall, called Praetorium; and they call together the whole band. And they clothed him with purple, and platted a crown of thorns, and put it about his head, and began to salute him, Hail, King of the Jews! (Mark 15:16-18)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p>Seven (a nail): Jesus was crucified. When the soldiers put Jesus on the cross, they pounded nails into His hands and feet. <i style="">And it was the third hour, and they crucified him. (Mark </i><st1:time minute="25" hour="15"><i style="">15:25</i></st1:time><i style="">) Behold the wounds which pierced my side, and also the prints of the nails in my hands and feet; be faithful, keep my commandments, and ye shall inherit the kingdom of heaven. Amen. (D & C 6:37)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p>Eight (whole cloves or other spices):<span style=""> </span>After Jesus died, His friends put his body in a tomb. Later, some of the women who followed Him came to the tomb to put spices on His body. That was something they did back then when someone died. <i style="">And when the sabbath was past, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome, had bought sweet spices, that they might come and anoint him. (Mark 16:1)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p>Nine (little rock or stone – rounded if you can find it): The tomb had a rock that could roll over the opening to seal it. While the women were walking to the tomb, they wondered how they would get the stone out of the way. <i style="">And they said among themselves, Who shall roll us away the stone from the door of the sepulchre And when they looked, they saw that the stone was rolled away: for it was very great. (Mark 16:3-4)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p>Ten: <span style=""> </span>This egg is empty because Jesus tomb was empty. Jesus tomb was empty because He was resurrected! When they got to the tomb, they were amazed to find that the stone had been rolled out of the way”and Jesus body was gone! <i style="">And he saith unto them, Be not affrighted: Ye seek Jesus of </i><st1:city><st1:place><i style="">Nazareth</i></st1:place></st1:city><i style="">, which was crucified: he is risen; he is not here: behold the place where they laid him Mark 16:6). <o:p></o:p></i></p>
<br />Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-21758254805619265582010-03-01T12:43:00.001-08:002011-12-16T15:12:40.772-08:00Artisan Bread for the Home Cook<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijV8ETlX2uf3y5XIn_sYZuXkWZzg6T-QPcboY9toCjVNGGZ1NIXuW8a0tQz2eX1kY29sOYiA485QisLb8NE06rG4sY_t-7DRm3IiOJLg2EE4jMIYdPFFSrKay1eV8yp_LbMn9H58tPMr68/s1600-h/P2080066-1.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijV8ETlX2uf3y5XIn_sYZuXkWZzg6T-QPcboY9toCjVNGGZ1NIXuW8a0tQz2eX1kY29sOYiA485QisLb8NE06rG4sY_t-7DRm3IiOJLg2EE4jMIYdPFFSrKay1eV8yp_LbMn9H58tPMr68/s320/P2080066-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443774791233112226" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqtwIGi-7KXCFxepTNgVp9d_prscB916K-d9lez7ieIrZxMNmGdxq-MhyphenhyphenAdYvMLe3YLgv7zLFGQTWnRZMSeiuJ462qjJQvsv1h29YZBhvL5XDlGoK3K1FYLuzs0HraDaZO-Jztc-XJRxLa/s1600-h/P2080065-1.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqtwIGi-7KXCFxepTNgVp9d_prscB916K-d9lez7ieIrZxMNmGdxq-MhyphenhyphenAdYvMLe3YLgv7zLFGQTWnRZMSeiuJ462qjJQvsv1h29YZBhvL5XDlGoK3K1FYLuzs0HraDaZO-Jztc-XJRxLa/s320/P2080065-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443774788609352802" border="0" /></a><br /><br />My title is presumptuous. I don't mean to take away from the amazing craftspeople who create true Artisan loaves; but, after you taste your bread, I think you'll be with me on this one. If you haven't heard of Jim Lahey's No-Knead bread, made popular by the NY Times article by Mark Bittman, it's time you did. In the past, home cooks have had a difficult time making Artisan-style bread. I'm talking about the kind you get at a great bakery, with a crusty exterior and light, chewy interior. The problem was always in the baking. Without an industrial oven, the home cook couldn't get the heat and steam necessary to produce a distinctive loaf. I grew up with soft-crusted rectangular loves of homemade bread, and I love it. But there's a time and a place people... a time and a place.<br /><br />Enter a genius named Jim Lahey. He figured out that you could produce aforementioned industrial oven cooking environment by preheating a heavy-bottomed pot with a lid. The bread goes into a steam-filled pot and cooks for 25 minutes, then the lid is removed for the last 15. Cast iron works well. I use a Calphalon pot or a Le Creuset. I bet a Lodge would work well. If you do a little web search, there are lots of ideas for different cooking vehicles, just make sure your lid's handle can withstand 450 degree temps (Le Creuset sells stainless replacement lids that can get that hot for about $13). And please, don't forget to use your oven mitts when opening and closing the pot. :)<br /><br />To add to the beauty of this innovation, the bread recipe he uses is very simple. It requires only salt, flour, yeast and water. You use a small amount of yeast and let it very slowly grow. Reading through the recipe and doing it once always takes a bit of time, but by the second time, you're going to love the ease of this!<br /><br />No-Knead Bread (adapted from Jim Lahey)<br /><p>3 cups all-purpose or bread flour, more for dusting<br />¼ teaspoon instant yeast<br />2 teaspoons salt<br />Cornmeal, flour, or wheat bran for dusting</p><p><span class="bold">1. </span> In a large bowl combine flour, yeast and salt. Add 1 5/8 cups water (I use 11 ounces if you live in a humid area, 12 if you live in a dry), and stir until blended; dough will be shaggy and sticky. Cover bowl with plastic wrap. Let dough rest at least 12 hours, preferably about 18 (go for the 18), at warm room temperature, about 70 degrees. </p><p><span class="bold">2. </span> Dough is ready when its surface is dotted with bubbles. Sprinkle dough lightly with flour and fold it over itself in the bowl a few times (I do this with a book wooden spoon). Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rest about 15 minutes. </p><p><span class="bold">3. Cut two pieces of parchment paper about 16 inches by 16 inches. This isn't an exact science, but that's how big I like mine. Generously coat the bottom of one with flour at least as big as a 12 inch circle.</span> When the 15 minutes is up, flip your dough out onto the floured parchment, and shape into a round. This doesn't need to be perfect, and almost always I just leave it how it flips. Sprinkle the top of the dough with a generous coating of flour and gently/lightly lay the other parchment on the top, allowing the parchment to curl down around it. Let rise for about 2 hours. When it is ready, dough will be more than double in size and will not readily spring back when poked with a finger.</p><p><span class="bold">4. </span> At least a half-hour before dough is ready, heat oven to 450 degrees. Put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (cast iron, enamel, Pyrex or ceramic) with lid on in oven as it heats so that the pot gets very hot. When dough is ready, carefully remove pot from oven. Open pot with a gloved hand and set lid down. Quickly remove oven mitts and pick up bread by sliding your hand under the parchment and turning/flipping dough over into pot, so that the bottom becomes the top of the loaf. It may look like a mess, but that is o.k. With gloved hands, shake pan once or twice if dough is unevenly distributed; it will straighten out as it bakes. Cover pot and if you don't have the gloves on yet, put them on and put covered pot in over. Bake 25 minutes, then remove lid and bake another 10 to 15 minutes, until loaf is beautifully browned. Cool on a rack. Sorry about all the glove/mitt stuff, but you really burn yourself when you touch a 450 degree pot. Ya really do. </p><p> <span class="bold">Yield</span>: One 1½-pound loaf.</p>Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-85344285275409298122010-02-28T12:17:00.000-08:002010-02-28T13:09:34.027-08:00Snow & Gelato<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6FspduXnUi4JJPJ3tM2elKY3Hd7rSbu9Hwym8AswgnpO3hWTGJF0q4jF0J00zXmljH4yj-BrxkYTaOx84qBh16ruPhFa46yi16eDauG8VCcipr8-pN4GaAZjeXYtRA_oqB2mVg-j_KzBv/s1600-h/P2050060-1.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6FspduXnUi4JJPJ3tM2elKY3Hd7rSbu9Hwym8AswgnpO3hWTGJF0q4jF0J00zXmljH4yj-BrxkYTaOx84qBh16ruPhFa46yi16eDauG8VCcipr8-pN4GaAZjeXYtRA_oqB2mVg-j_KzBv/s320/P2050060-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443398027404719602" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijBIntOcX1Zkv9V2A9T-guGap3mKHuA8WaeBNGCr3utZG5o10YkjgUCQ6a68aUnXqFdceKsN-9BcwBUz3ZLgPTAYqVaXC_d_4WOGDGoZiHZJ0-KYWU5mc30c6EgGQ46bJFmZiZH3R3byRH/s1600-h/P1300039.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijBIntOcX1Zkv9V2A9T-guGap3mKHuA8WaeBNGCr3utZG5o10YkjgUCQ6a68aUnXqFdceKsN-9BcwBUz3ZLgPTAYqVaXC_d_4WOGDGoZiHZJ0-KYWU5mc30c6EgGQ46bJFmZiZH3R3byRH/s320/P1300039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443396772448821810" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We recently got hammered with snow, like a lot of the country. Usually in NC in February it starts getting warm, and I can barely keep myself from starting gardening projects, but it's been a cold year. I'm going to really miss the weather here if/when Kimball's fellowship ends, and he gets a job somewhere else. I'm not a big fan of snow. I like it for about one week, and then I'm done. My kids seem to be made out of the same metal as me. We trekked over to the cousins' house and went sledding down a hill in their backyard. The kids lasted for about 20 minutes before the whining began. At 30 minutes the baby was screaming her head off because snow had gotten in her mittens and she was cold. We went back inside.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5OI6UicyYXf6VrE75Cog5warekfZx1J23AEhUT9gERBg_fmoGpi5Ctz200-6TWgZWu5woIT5DpZpbQtAz_meNU1OzIj90tRMnVZkn8qmxxsTVjCdDQLpFDNX-jsZSyDoKTSShiMD4Ui11/s1600-h/P2050053-1.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5OI6UicyYXf6VrE75Cog5warekfZx1J23AEhUT9gERBg_fmoGpi5Ctz200-6TWgZWu5woIT5DpZpbQtAz_meNU1OzIj90tRMnVZkn8qmxxsTVjCdDQLpFDNX-jsZSyDoKTSShiMD4Ui11/s320/P2050053-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443398013832115458" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm-YVe5l0aeYO7Wuj3sTizddz7NMSlw3jGAssw556mTRZ9_-9DqgFlNW2KjsKxh_ClVb7XBdHS7Ps2Ap3qGdofX5E8PKfTS4X4Uy6uwkFmi3YZT84r2BlFQZ69r6ZcOJ75Am8N10cA0oF9/s1600-h/P2050054.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 338px; height: 234px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm-YVe5l0aeYO7Wuj3sTizddz7NMSlw3jGAssw556mTRZ9_-9DqgFlNW2KjsKxh_ClVb7XBdHS7Ps2Ap3qGdofX5E8PKfTS4X4Uy6uwkFmi3YZT84r2BlFQZ69r6ZcOJ75Am8N10cA0oF9/s320/P2050054.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443398019305351170" border="0" /></a><br />During this cold streak of weather, instead of starting a fire (in four years we have not turned on our gas fireplace), we went and got gelato. Besides the anxiety that comes with having children with nut allergies during these kind of excursions, we had a blast. We try not to bring nutty treats into the house, but when we go out, Kimball and I get to <span style="font-weight: bold;">carefully</span> indulge in pecan, pistachio, and hazelnut-flavored things. The place we went to was the kind of sleek ultramodern eatery not really made for kids. You feel bad if a drop gets on the floor, and drops did. The kids didn't care that we were running around with wipes and napkins. They also didn't care that the gelato was icey, had too much air whipped into it, and wasn't "tight." This is the kind of thing that Mom doesn't like. I'm a normal person and only like to pay premium prices for premium products. Anyway, the kids had so much fun that they've been talking about it ever since, wanting to know if we can go back to "that ice cream store." And since the total for single scoops for our family came to $25, the answer to that question is "no." It will be extra special if they only have one memory of it. :)Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-88122579467487010222010-01-11T06:11:00.000-08:002010-01-31T15:47:17.457-08:00Kringle<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUnrOXNKyrwv42pxizYoAKlvk5_wRRM_Pc2TsxOqTxtwfksdX9ZsxuzIgOTY5tyXjEQrYA77djXGodbsrJrOJTlpRprcLhl4fBIeHwWEmmdtstetGedvK0AktVUUWaBH4cZZwFGSof4PC2/s1600-h/PC200098.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUnrOXNKyrwv42pxizYoAKlvk5_wRRM_Pc2TsxOqTxtwfksdX9ZsxuzIgOTY5tyXjEQrYA77djXGodbsrJrOJTlpRprcLhl4fBIeHwWEmmdtstetGedvK0AktVUUWaBH4cZZwFGSof4PC2/s320/PC200098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433053144894906642" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbQA4IbycUqzOy_k2Okz0Ye_l-waNJCBH_lUjY4hYtmbyhIwdc8H6D3saaHjhm3XNWCPWwL4NRlxLaKy1kjMpfFxISJ5_nH9-E9fTzlvni32JjBR42qYomG6jUVZ0YaNrZRfgbj38qcDY/s1600-h/PC200097.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbQA4IbycUqzOy_k2Okz0Ye_l-waNJCBH_lUjY4hYtmbyhIwdc8H6D3saaHjhm3XNWCPWwL4NRlxLaKy1kjMpfFxISJ5_nH9-E9fTzlvni32JjBR42qYomG6jUVZ0YaNrZRfgbj38qcDY/s320/PC200097.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433052149740396850" border="0" /></a><br />Yes, it is funny that this is the post just following my "lose weight" post, but I promise I haven't made this since Christmas. Kringle, or kringla as it's <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3shphTJJaD1F6HW5ooMANk_YfcbPSpDDD5Twpr9PuocL1GoNDBg1XaXG2E_CrWmpASWO_RCogNneiQiqL4X8tUKrlqvGXDHQX19DT9I18ouGwl-icpNv_4E_Xrt-j_d_jEAfAaKXkZfZy/s1600-h/PC200099.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3shphTJJaD1F6HW5ooMANk_YfcbPSpDDD5Twpr9PuocL1GoNDBg1XaXG2E_CrWmpASWO_RCogNneiQiqL4X8tUKrlqvGXDHQX19DT9I18ouGwl-icpNv_4E_Xrt-j_d_jEAfAaKXkZfZy/s320/PC200099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433053148750697266" border="0" /></a>called in Iceland is a Scandinavian dessert said to have been greatly influenced by Austrian bakers who "filled in" during worker strikes in Sweden. I don't doubt it, Austrians are some of the world's best bakers, pastry-makers, and confection makers, in my opinion. In Sweden you always make kringle in the shape of a pretzel (the symbol for bakery), but my ancestry is Danish and my husband's Icelandic, to say nothing of the fact that we are rogue Americans who do whatever works for us. I think the traditional versions take forever to make, but anyone can make this recipe, and it produces a flaky and impressive filled pastry. The key is to chill the dough because it's almost like a batter, not a dough, at room temperature. Even after it has been chilled, the dough is very sticky and you have to work quickly so you don't warm it up too much. My fool-proof method for this is to flour a piece of foil-paper and roll it out on that -- no stick and easy clean up.<br /><br />Pastry Ingredients:<br />2 C flour<br />2 sticks butter (room temp)<br />1 (8-oz) tub of sour cream<br />1/2 cup to 3/4 cup jam or preserve for filling<br />1 egg white<br />1 egg yolk beaten w/1 tsp almond extract or water<br /><br />Almond Buttercream Frosting Ingredients<br />2 TBS softened butter<br />2 TBS softened cream cheese<br />1 cup or so powdered sugar<br />1/2 tsp almond extract<br />milk as needed<br /><br />Directions:<br />1. Mix flour and butter as for pie crust (criss-cross with 2 butter knives or beat on slow with handmixer.<br />2. Add sour cream; form into ball. It will be very wet. Dust with flour and place in plastic bag.<br />3. Refrigerate 4 hours or overnight.<br />4. Roll on floured foil into a large rectangle or if you don't have a large cookie sheet, you can divide this into three rectangles.<br />5. Brush with egg white and visualize the rectangle as 3 equal parts -- spread preserve down middle avoiding the top and bottom edge by an inch.<br />6. Fold the two outer sides in one on top of the other. Pinch ends and press in center fold. Transfer to cookie sheet.<br />7. Brush top with egg yolk mixture.<br />8. Bake on ungreased cookie sheet at 350 for 40 minutes or golden brown.<br />9. Beat all buttercream frosting ingredients together to make a thick frosting.<br />10. Cool (you can have it still slightly warm -- just not hot) and frost with butter cream icing; slice for serving.Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-77686071897312272922010-01-08T08:37:00.000-08:002010-01-08T08:54:04.091-08:00use it or lose it<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuI2LZ01voaQnse9_LVw_CbFeazbn269YB-z3gcrSzSEDRn_VTLYq3qeFBOkh4lw0TSptukEbz7RO8vVvrrXbnSK6Rmba23pcNcoth2cwf6yxuFx5E5ug3cBPu4KtecAoIAYot4iT5DWD5/s1600-h/liv+%26+Kim.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuI2LZ01voaQnse9_LVw_CbFeazbn269YB-z3gcrSzSEDRn_VTLYq3qeFBOkh4lw0TSptukEbz7RO8vVvrrXbnSK6Rmba23pcNcoth2cwf6yxuFx5E5ug3cBPu4KtecAoIAYot4iT5DWD5/s320/liv+%26+Kim.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424413146309159026" /></a><br />It's no secret that I've gained 30 lbs since I got married – you've seen the photographs. My appearance is sort of like my scarlet letter. You can see how healthfully (or not) I'm living. Still, this is the kind of thing you wonder about posting about the day after you make your blog open to the public. In the interest of full disclosure, which I know none of you were looking for, I have lost and gained 20 of it pretty much with each pregnancy. And yet, this time, the weight loss just isn't happening for me. I know what I need to do, and I feel motivated but every day I hit the brick wall. Incidentally, does anybody else feel like they are a dietician and physical fitness consultant after years of gaining and losing? I've read more magazine articles (scholarly, I know) than I could possibly count. Don't worry, I can count to 100. It's just that I have whole magazine subscriptions dedicated to these subjects – "Shape," "Cooking Light," "Fitness," "Eating Well." I like them all by the way, but mostly just for ideas and motivation, I read real books when I want more information. And I've read loads of those too.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I declared a dietetics major for a while at BYU (till I took the science classes), and for a spell it was Health Promotion till I couldn't take the Richards building anymore. I love motivating others to make healthier choices. I know those of you who have been to my house for dinner parties are wondering if you are on the wrong blog. I admit, I do believe in celebrating and sometimes in a most indulgent way, but I don't eat like that on a daily basis. Normally, my family eats a lot of produce and beans and legumes. Typically, I eat 7-9 servings of fruits and vegetables a day. Yeah, cheer for me.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On a positive note, I am glad that I can relate to the people who have said to me, "how do you find the motivation?" If you had asked me this six months ago, I would have thought (not said) something like, "well, if you do what you always do, you'll get what you've always gotten" or "calories in minus calories out" or "excuses don't pay the bills" or some other such rubbish that my head is full of. Today it all seems like fairytales, like I'm struggling to run a marathon underwater. Unimaginably difficult. Hmmm..does that mean difficult to imagine or a difficulty hard to imagine? Whatever. We have a health crisis in <st1:country-region><st1:place>America</st1:place></st1:country-region>. I've always felt really strongly that each individual doing their very best to live healthfully strengthens the whole country, and maybe even the whole world. We all have different genes, environments and circumstances, but every one of us can do our very best to make smart choices, set good examples, and respect the bodies we have in our own way. For me, that includes dropping 30 lbs by summer. Keep me honest, people.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-25450224997103351462010-01-07T11:00:00.000-08:002010-01-07T11:12:25.930-08:00The blog...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEvOWnita-Pednf3Og_IYz_EwKVu7TayBy-ErwhqFrXOrpt-ygaI2Z1LHp0ODQEKFOpmvTiu7Ajhvzo4_W_VCeB-GaTgxtT3raygaHm0zhqaxpkj4zsXBLtTpRiekInnsUgVbLnyCawT9m/s1600-h/1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEvOWnita-Pednf3Og_IYz_EwKVu7TayBy-ErwhqFrXOrpt-ygaI2Z1LHp0ODQEKFOpmvTiu7Ajhvzo4_W_VCeB-GaTgxtT3raygaHm0zhqaxpkj4zsXBLtTpRiekInnsUgVbLnyCawT9m/s320/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424077121035731602" border="0" /></a>I'm embarrassed by my "blog." Quotation marks are so that you know that I KNOW this ain't no blog. Sigh. I was reminded that I even had one when I saw a link to it from my sister's blog. I headed over to my blog then exited out of it for a minute. I couldn't remember the URL to get back to it. This, my friends, is the kind of blog I have. I don't know how anyone else keeps up on these things. I think about it all the time. How do other people keep their houses clean, do their civic duties, keep their homes spiritually edifying, bodies healthy and their children developing, all while living within their means? I break this question down into parts, but I'm always asking it. I just don't know how people do it. I'm not discouraged, just confused.<br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br />Besides all of my embarrassment and confusion, things are going really well for the Palmer-Christiansons. The kids are all doing great. Leif is growing like a weed and loving kindergarten, Gus is learning to write (and read a bit), and Paia is talking up a storm (at only 19 months)...hmmmm...now who did she get that from?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The big question on our minds these days is: where will we be in a year and a half? I've researched in depth just about every western city with a population of at least 50,000, but of course, they have to need a radiologist. And not just any radiologist, a women's imager or body imager, since Kimball is specializing in mammography and abdominal imaging. We love the East, especially the Southeast, but I'm so tired of getting on planes with these kids. Raleigh Durham Airport doesn't even have a direct flight to Salt Lake, which is where both sets of grandparents are. Kimball will finish his training in a year and a half – he starts his fellowship in July. I'm trying to get the house ready to put on the market and trying to figure out which upgrades will equate to financial returns. Any advice on where to live or what to do to the house is welcome!<br /></p>Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-55956078118361975032009-04-05T15:56:00.001-07:002009-04-09T20:02:46.902-07:00Hair thingsI've entered new territory with girly hair stuff. As the first girl, Paia's had to suffer some headband abuse. Lucky for her, I ordered some double ruffle bows from Etsy that never came so there have been fewer pretties than she'll ever know. Why didn't somebody tell me that this is a science and you have to start putting these things on them early so that they become accustomed to them? Maybe they'd just tear them off anyway. Either way, I'm loving it.<br /><div><div><div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSB4PqswNOSDqFVmSqp2ysB5ezb6bxC86MTNlCTI-rwlURbc1jh7WQSIqMrVIGhNzLZUH8v_ukrWi8jaHyV75xKks4XAe67cGlx0DBAda_ohEetYI-EFUR-8xsVD3oWn-3FO_vcQKYj-Sy/s1600-h/bows9.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321349403392680290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSB4PqswNOSDqFVmSqp2ysB5ezb6bxC86MTNlCTI-rwlURbc1jh7WQSIqMrVIGhNzLZUH8v_ukrWi8jaHyV75xKks4XAe67cGlx0DBAda_ohEetYI-EFUR-8xsVD3oWn-3FO_vcQKYj-Sy/s320/bows9.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5GhKPi6Y7KfaYsFg67lXA3x7OvRMPz_MQEQJXgAWFqU-gmbLqACoXL-lywRFCV2atIShRPgTQ1_HX_RncZ6ZtHcjwyhaTZu_xRg7BI6MbaDeb0Ba9gBY7yOosnM_rwcJLziNlK9xprYgu/s1600-h/bows1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321349409999880114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5GhKPi6Y7KfaYsFg67lXA3x7OvRMPz_MQEQJXgAWFqU-gmbLqACoXL-lywRFCV2atIShRPgTQ1_HX_RncZ6ZtHcjwyhaTZu_xRg7BI6MbaDeb0Ba9gBY7yOosnM_rwcJLziNlK9xprYgu/s320/bows1.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_JTFAnEawx7alVEo9FCmPqeSU639OYhHaYH1DhpjOS-tCMYNXsWJZ61M98uSN0r7S0_PIvYEu9OvLQGM2Y1KYLUzw-0jDKqWO6Og6Amr88niwaPrW1cQtrKw230Jt8uxOxXjeopb3tcGH/s1600-h/bows5.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321350403369287378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 318px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_JTFAnEawx7alVEo9FCmPqeSU639OYhHaYH1DhpjOS-tCMYNXsWJZ61M98uSN0r7S0_PIvYEu9OvLQGM2Y1KYLUzw-0jDKqWO6Og6Amr88niwaPrW1cQtrKw230Jt8uxOxXjeopb3tcGH/s320/bows5.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_ZaX5J1btZ2edH-ZyorgUzg1KN3kPGsmvaqUqoOKJwMRgyJGLK8S60huttUmUyW8sU3o_UZLtn3r2YGFtNRhUhmNXqvoOVSyNxm6SNyjlWgHGICHUM3Zd2KhKtWqojRgJU3tWdJHQ__n/s1600-h/bows2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321349412872328242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_ZaX5J1btZ2edH-ZyorgUzg1KN3kPGsmvaqUqoOKJwMRgyJGLK8S60huttUmUyW8sU3o_UZLtn3r2YGFtNRhUhmNXqvoOVSyNxm6SNyjlWgHGICHUM3Zd2KhKtWqojRgJU3tWdJHQ__n/s320/bows2.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKx-a0aPPKf0Mk9SeDhNnbPMoJvUX2i6aWfEPyhQ7AGJfoYtejip-8COcUlHiipqKH0x3foxmK8uRXqA8USRBTb4Wjvx6VjxX2qBYhkLc40AFUFUIxZwyFNpGbN_ZoUKsuoHwwjmn_QktH/s1600-h/bows4.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321350403728434082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 321px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKx-a0aPPKf0Mk9SeDhNnbPMoJvUX2i6aWfEPyhQ7AGJfoYtejip-8COcUlHiipqKH0x3foxmK8uRXqA8USRBTb4Wjvx6VjxX2qBYhkLc40AFUFUIxZwyFNpGbN_ZoUKsuoHwwjmn_QktH/s320/bows4.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHYSJr5Ri2k4-mSOnwKbmN4gxBstC9bMR9cJSI363TZPlJmpG66Z9D4cWhHajxSYfW5ZZFSpYfMbQ1dNpNy4URJvDYQM9twckeQLAdx4DaFX7_jJ2rksneuS-vepzKNa4U40qd2S7CMqWS/s1600-h/bows3.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321350396621970530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHYSJr5Ri2k4-mSOnwKbmN4gxBstC9bMR9cJSI363TZPlJmpG66Z9D4cWhHajxSYfW5ZZFSpYfMbQ1dNpNy4URJvDYQM9twckeQLAdx4DaFX7_jJ2rksneuS-vepzKNa4U40qd2S7CMqWS/s320/bows3.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKx-a0aPPKf0Mk9SeDhNnbPMoJvUX2i6aWfEPyhQ7AGJfoYtejip-8COcUlHiipqKH0x3foxmK8uRXqA8USRBTb4Wjvx6VjxX2qBYhkLc40AFUFUIxZwyFNpGbN_ZoUKsuoHwwjmn_QktH/s1600-h/bows4.JPG"></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5GhKPi6Y7KfaYsFg67lXA3x7OvRMPz_MQEQJXgAWFqU-gmbLqACoXL-lywRFCV2atIShRPgTQ1_HX_RncZ6ZtHcjwyhaTZu_xRg7BI6MbaDeb0Ba9gBY7yOosnM_rwcJLziNlK9xprYgu/s1600-h/bows1.JPG"></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKx-a0aPPKf0Mk9SeDhNnbPMoJvUX2i6aWfEPyhQ7AGJfoYtejip-8COcUlHiipqKH0x3foxmK8uRXqA8USRBTb4Wjvx6VjxX2qBYhkLc40AFUFUIxZwyFNpGbN_ZoUKsuoHwwjmn_QktH/s1600-h/bows4.JPG"></a></div><br /><br /><div><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-32706220299525047512009-02-19T08:43:00.000-08:002009-02-20T06:29:45.656-08:00One Coat of Nightingale<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipuVd6FYYOipcb4AtmtoTd7CYceXR_6B0d5bynzo44qYaFHyrokub7sIQwNoJZSQjiSHwGvqoZKe_4sgNNUXo2WFDwNNa-4uhBZtS54etipihBuJ1IQmHrAMj4LA7zkw5imB_prbt3fhpO/s1600-h/IMG_3662.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304558813932027810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipuVd6FYYOipcb4AtmtoTd7CYceXR_6B0d5bynzo44qYaFHyrokub7sIQwNoJZSQjiSHwGvqoZKe_4sgNNUXo2WFDwNNa-4uhBZtS54etipihBuJ1IQmHrAMj4LA7zkw5imB_prbt3fhpO/s320/IMG_3662.JPG" border="0" /></a> I'm having <span style="font-size:0;"></span>writer's remorse. My last post was so grumpy,<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVYFBSjvMoUnrHNKJv0hYxwYpklojZ_uS7iVl5gY1PRD4Nixd8jB7tmoMSz13F9KGCIE3CMYGOMOkTSyF9D5Qq8Nm8Ifw8khKsMh4GEOVEzig01uJCfsFizat-NCwWQU8HvuxRS1U2H43o/s1600-h/IMG_3661.JPG"></a> and in order to move past that depressing bit of writ, I thought I'd add a new post about the kitchen paint. That's supposed to be cheery. Don't ask me how I expect to cheer my potential buyers with gray paint (Nightingale). It's just a spot of Livvy logic.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div></div><div>We won't be selling for 2 years, but we need paint up so that we can actually wash the walls. The builder's paint in all it's flat chalkiness doesn't allow for me to wipe chocolate handprints away, without washing the wall away too. The pictures make the paint look lighter and bluer than it is. I'<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieShbxLaJzfhpzCCzedF41eW3w1G_mk8tsZkQELQk7RZMxFDH9NFxj_-J55PJb2yi9hjdjI2sX3nqtHmUoofQpgO1hLvzicKGdvpuLk8vnU7ahnCXI1sj3nIqy4Mb_NZFvN29aqM6OoG_x/s1600-h/IMG_3661-1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304558106046291266" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieShbxLaJzfhpzCCzedF41eW3w1G_mk8tsZkQELQk7RZMxFDH9NFxj_-J55PJb2yi9hjdjI2sX3nqtHmUoofQpgO1hLvzicKGdvpuLk8vnU7ahnCXI1sj3nIqy4Mb_NZFvN29aqM6OoG_x/s320/IMG_3661-1.JPG" border="0" /></a>m a Benjamin Moore Aura fan so that's what we went with. I like how it has a matte/flat look with the cleanability of a shinier paint. It's pricey -- $50 a gallon -- but I only have to do one coat because it's self-priming and I would never have enough time to do a primer and then paint.. AND (drumroll)....it's low VOC so you can't smell the paint much while you are painting, you aren't subject to noxious fumes, and a couple of hours later you'd never know someone had been painting. That, and I'm trying not to give my kids cancer. </div><br /><div></div><div>O.k., I'm back. I just ran to the door thinking that the headbands I ordered for my daughter from Etsy had come, but it was just the JWitnesses, and I only got a watchtower. And for the record, these are my daughter's first purchased hair things. Now that she's already 8 months old, I was able to find some money. </div><div></div><div></div><br /><div>I should have cleaned the kitchen counter before taking this picture, but I didn't. I'm ashamed of myself because I've watched HGTV, and thought, "What kind of a person knows designers and t.v. cameras are coming to their house and can't be bothered to clean under the bed?" Apparently my kind of person. </div><div></div><div>The painting of my son Leif on the back counter was done by my sister-in-law Diana. It's amazing, huh? Yeah, I move it all over the house. She is a photographer too. A very good photographer. If you go to yanphoto.com you can see her beautiful work AND hear my brother Martin sing a song he and his 3-year-old co-wrote. I'm not kidding. My niece wrote the words. To get sidetracked, I feel it is a great tragedy that my brother's music isn't out there for all the world to hear. Also on the site, under the family shots is a picture of a couple and their son wearing black and gray. That gorgeous girl is Tua's (Nathan's) wife's sister. Whoa! What's up with all the bragging? Overcompensating for not having taken a shower in two days. Bye. I'm off to shower. The end.</div></div></div></div>Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-1816430346928562062009-02-17T11:19:00.000-08:002009-02-17T11:28:39.750-08:00we are a happy fa - ma - leeeee<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUCE6E4ckk5KWOm08oNQwKba6Rtkl7KE1F3XoGgurv_DQMAY7X8Hz3jPQX3Uj2qmivGE32BdhuzOAkQL3NUugnJO8b08Fr8-fwZ3FSMqNqQtn7XhUNPm-47C6F1FAbwoT1URxU3Q3X_o-b/s1600-h/IMG_3639-1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303850399927041874" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 234px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUCE6E4ckk5KWOm08oNQwKba6Rtkl7KE1F3XoGgurv_DQMAY7X8Hz3jPQX3Uj2qmivGE32BdhuzOAkQL3NUugnJO8b08Fr8-fwZ3FSMqNqQtn7XhUNPm-47C6F1FAbwoT1URxU3Q3X_o-b/s320/IMG_3639-1.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Does anybody else feel sad that you study and pray and work and repent and work again to make your family a little piece of heaven and then your kids grow up and leave you? I'm deflated.<br /><br />And now I'm starting to feel irritated with people that aren't nice to their in-laws. Of course I'm spoiled and I have great in-laws and you simply can't have my husband without his family. I knew that when I married him. It's one of the reasons I married him. I know there are exceptions – terribly abusive parents whose contact with their children makes their progression nearly impossible. But that's the exception. Most in-laws are just (human) people with imperfections. Like you. And that doesn't mean that hoarding a spouse and manipulating his family were the best solution you could come up with. To be angry about it: what kind of fool was raised to think they could march into a family, seduce themselves a spouse, wrench them from their mama, and then not do their darndest to help their spouse "honor" their father and mother? I'm bewildered.<br /><br />We don't have any of that among the spouses my siblings married. Spoiled again. And I knoooooow. Don't judge until you have walked two miles in someone else's moccasins. I have had relationship problems with relatives. It's a beast.<br /><br />It's ironic that I thought I had beaten something when I made it through many a disastrous romance to find and marry the person of my dreams. All those tragic songs about love lost, undying hope, and flames that e'er will flicker don't hold a candle (sorry about all the pyromania) to the thought of my broken heart when someone whisks my kids away, possibly to drive a wedge between us. I wouldn't know, but I'm just sayin'. I guess there are worse things. At least that's what I tell myself. And isn't it so often the case that you torture yourself more worrying about things that never come to pass?<br /><br />Back to my little piece of heaven...for now. Boohooo. </div>Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-15591503277550643912009-02-16T19:11:00.000-08:002009-02-16T20:55:24.734-08:00Pictures and FHE<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpGFU3ma61-KZcTZpAlHMGdkaWFPIYZXygfprg2aR7NNbiX_ywaqjfBCedcQpTnaYR8ZQJjvm9SJyoAY3JnFRagHnwEnpKkVD8PhkuoC6DBlmVOCLlpkLxB3sTvPSCR1wh1uYGnlIEyNC8/s1600-h/IMG_3635-1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303603070944988194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 306px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpGFU3ma61-KZcTZpAlHMGdkaWFPIYZXygfprg2aR7NNbiX_ywaqjfBCedcQpTnaYR8ZQJjvm9SJyoAY3JnFRagHnwEnpKkVD8PhkuoC6DBlmVOCLlpkLxB3sTvPSCR1wh1uYGnlIEyNC8/s320/IMG_3635-1.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div>The whole purpose of this post is to share some pictures of the kids and give you a peek into what the children are like right now. Most of the photos are of Paia. She's starting to move from totally baby into something more transitional. She has a temper, gets her feelings hurt, checks her clothes out in the mirror (something I had never witnessed with the two boys), and jumps when she's caught picking a crumb up off the floor. Notice the picture (where I am conveniently axed) showcasing her thunder thighs.</div><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>The boys are really great right now. Leif is into learning shows and endangered animals, and Gus is entirely tazmanian devil -- climbing, biting, throwing and looking for hugs while he's in time out (don't worry, Nana, he gets the hugs). If the two boys have to choose a t.v. show together, it will take a good 5 minutes of bickering. Gus hates to agree on anything, and Leif's tastes are too high brow for Gussy's shows. </div><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Tonight during family home evening, I had a flashback to Palmer family nights. Gus jumped off the couch, barely missing Paia. Paia sat crying and clawing at my clothes while I tried to give a 5-minute lesson, snubbing her daddy's attempts to comfort her. There was some bickering here and there. The questions we asked like, "What can we do to take care of our bodies," elicited responses from Leif like "read the scriptures" and "do the right thing" from Gus. Hmm. Are they getting it? At the end of the lesson there was a maze that the boys had to navigate by choosing the paths that represented righteous choices. Each step of the way, it reinforced why they needed to choose the way they went. When they had reached the successful end, Gus said, "Now can we try doing it again only going the other way?" A little "do as I'm doing" distracted this idea. As I jumped "high or low" and "fast or slow" I thought about our FHEs during my childhood -- some of them wonderful, and some that ended with half of us crying and in big trouble. </div><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>I'm grateful that our parents perservered in doing this, especially since I remember being quite a bit more obnoxious during these experiences than my own kids currently are...I know, just wait. Regardless, those memories are a source of comfort to me now and I know they bonded us and helped us gain testimonies of important principles. Even during challenging times with my children, I sometimes feel a little giddy, remembering similiar difficult Palmer children times and realizing that I have a real live family of my own that could turn out as wonderfully as the one I grew up in.</div><br /><div></div><div> </div></div>Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-21554839837515952432009-02-10T12:01:00.000-08:002009-02-10T14:04:00.456-08:00Sometimes you feel like a nut...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpndX1aBldBj_HsfgW4SqdbQ4v-Bs1UZC0cXvmxvDQXOSHlqdtyCJxvK6gWOGbVDdvZAQqUppsXcpQH71_NZgP1xFoz7GkiGwwo-TZai3fh3f6R3mfLKaQP2C9JNYv7CBvNOlG_R0IYxAM/s1600-h/hummus2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301290443624602834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 230px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 153px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpndX1aBldBj_HsfgW4SqdbQ4v-Bs1UZC0cXvmxvDQXOSHlqdtyCJxvK6gWOGbVDdvZAQqUppsXcpQH71_NZgP1xFoz7GkiGwwo-TZai3fh3f6R3mfLKaQP2C9JNYv7CBvNOlG_R0IYxAM/s320/hummus2.jpg" border="0" /></a> I know, I know. My first post in several months and it's in no way an update on my family. I've decided this blog is going to be part family history and part therapy. I think this entry hits on both. Two things dominate Palmer-Christianson family culture -- religion and food. Today you're getting the latter.<br /><br />If I had to choose my top 3 favorite foods, nuts would make the list. I've never met a nut I didn't like, especially roasted ones. I'll eat them any way I can get them -- plain, in baked goods, on top of salads or yogurt in ice cream and chocolates, etc. Especially appealing to the nut lover is any mixture of ground nuts, like say....PEANUT BUTTER. Right now I could eat a whole jar of (salmonella-free) peanut butter, but that's because I've been denied. Leif is allergic to nuts and I'm an asthmatic. This lovely combination necessitates that I do not eat nuts when I'm pregnant or nursing. I'll eat a few almonds here and there and maybe a pecan in a weak moment, but peanuts are a definite "no, no." I don't need my children developing asthma or more nut allergies.<br /><br />Today I turned to hummus to ease the pain. Hummus (my hummus anyway) includes olive oil, lemon juice, garbanzo beans, garlic, spices, and tahini. Tahini is the magic word here. It's a paste of ground sesame seeds that has the same consistency and nutty flavor reminiscent of peanut butter. I want to eat the hummus by the spoonful, but we're trying to fit back into our clothes by the time the baby turns one. Don't imagine that last sentence said by Gollum.<br /><br />My first great experience with hummus was in Germany at the home of my Hebrew friend Chen. Her mother pulled hot pita from the oven, and along with avocado and tomato topped toast, we ate creamy, rich hummus and pita for breakfast. Later in the Middle East, I would have the almost sweet, newly made hummus they served with uberfresh, melt-in-your-mouth soft pita, the likes of which I haven't had anywhere else. I like to make my own hummus because it's thick and fresh tasting, and of course lower in fat than what you buy at the store.<br /><br />You can serve hummus the traditional way with pita or tortillas, or you can use it as a dip. I love using it as a spread in veggie sandwiches or in a grilled chicken sandwich with sundried tomatoes. Sometimes I just roast tomatoes (in the oven, for 20 - 40 min at 400 degrees with olive oil and salt -- please slice the tomatoes first) till they're condensed and caramelized. Then I make a hummus and tomato sandwich on crusty bread. Oh dear, I can see that I really need a separate food blog. Anyway, hummus, it's what's on the menu. Homemade is a thousand times better than storebought, so try it. It's not hard -- you don't have to chop or cook a thing.<br /><br /><strong>Creamy Hummus</strong><br /><br />3/4 cup water<br />1/2 cup tahini<br />6 garlic cloves<br />6 tablespoons FRESH lemon juice<br />1 TBS olive oil<br />1 1/2 tsp cumin<br />1 tsp salt<br />1/4 tsp pepper<br />2 (19 oz) cans garbanzo beans, drained -- be careful that you don't buy the 15 oz, if you do, just decrease all ingredients slightly or you will have a less thick hummus<br /><br />Blend first 3 ingredients on low in food processor. Add remining ingredients and blend till smooth. For a nice presentation, place the hummus in a serving dish and drizzle with olive oil and dust with paprika.<br /><p></p><p> </p>Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-21140550411738956442008-08-22T11:26:00.000-07:002009-02-10T14:11:35.416-08:00The new little gal<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt2RC_vOMIvbGf-2gvdXFdKbKZncVHSCy66an7a9PhyK9gFyHZn5-IQXfU380AcCQge-Y07wuiaxeoUr-LhkzsvZmsd-xoLf4hEM2pioEXGbOnx7TijuAyAizoFysYWhloGjyR4P8Rmg_O/s1600-h/little+pig.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237442468965816610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt2RC_vOMIvbGf-2gvdXFdKbKZncVHSCy66an7a9PhyK9gFyHZn5-IQXfU380AcCQge-Y07wuiaxeoUr-LhkzsvZmsd-xoLf4hEM2pioEXGbOnx7TijuAyAizoFysYWhloGjyR4P8Rmg_O/s320/little+pig.JPG" border="0" /></a> And then there were three. I haven't posted anything since Paia was born. We named her after my mother who is Samoan. Her name means holy and is pronounced puh-ee-uh. Her middle name is Marquita, after one of Kimball's really wonderful sisters. Marquita will tell you with a very serious face that her name means "pearl of the opera." <div><div><br /><div></div><div>Paia was born June 17th and was 8 lb even. It was a c-section, and honestly it about killed me. However, it's over, and we have forgotten all about it. The boys are so excited to have a little sister. Gussie is constantly trying to kiss and hug her. Leif calls her "our little princess" and watches her with awe. Just watches mostly. He's afraid of her.</div><div> </div><div></div><div>In some ways, having three children has thrown us for a loop. A friend explained their decision to have two kids this way, "We don't like the children to outnumber us." I admit I was intimidated by the prospect. At any given time someone is always crying for something (while I'm trying to help another child, of course), and someone is always getting hurt (while I'm holding another child, of course). In our attempt to reduce the mayhem to a minimum, we do a lot of cautioning the kids to be safe or asking them to talk softly. Today as I went out to get the mail, Gus opened the front door and called after me, "Be careful, Mom." Yes, Gus. It's a dangerous world.</div><div> </div><div></div><div>Chaos and ineffective parenting aside, we are thrilled to have three little pigs. I feel like I've won the lottery. I'm amazed at how life changes with time. We're a family of five, whereas just five years ago, Kimball and I were desperate for any children at all. We're outnumbered, and we love it.</div></div></div>Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-44181258972429242332008-05-14T13:52:00.001-07:002008-05-14T14:24:18.738-07:00Babies in 2008This year there have been a lot of new additions to our family. On my side of the family Martin and Diana Palmer started off the year with their second little girl who they named Wren. Darcie (Palmer) and Adam Sanders had their first child -- a boy named Kjell (pronounced Shell). On Kim's side of the family, Sage (Christianson) and Curtis Child had their second child, and first boy named Sandor. Jordan and Shaun Christianson had their first girl (after 4 boys) named Elle McCaye. This week Howie and Thira Christianson had their third little boy. It's hard to round up pictures of all of these cuties, but we're working on it.Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639473609633923112.post-4246709284998154612008-04-05T11:26:00.003-07:002008-12-11T21:20:46.885-08:00Gus...careful & troubled about many things<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgifxwK1IE5a_iY9ywJS6L9TcYR7idLrhSJXEE8XBh_yl5Ux3spM3TLH-51U2IUqVIV9VmGOKa5ejmMTMvGRW8di9p6Kblk3J9TjMhDMsSRkiG5-SmLhJpfekXQPuWZrIgvGDmmOPuCLT-S/s1600-h/IMG_1637.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186144828491386930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgifxwK1IE5a_iY9ywJS6L9TcYR7idLrhSJXEE8XBh_yl5Ux3spM3TLH-51U2IUqVIV9VmGOKa5ejmMTMvGRW8di9p6Kblk3J9TjMhDMsSRkiG5-SmLhJpfekXQPuWZrIgvGDmmOPuCLT-S/s320/IMG_1637.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Gus has turned out to be our more agressive and adventurous child. He likes to jump off the couch or the side of the stairs and loves attacking Leif from behind. Wrestling is a favorite activity. He is also really affectionate most of the time and frequently says, "hug you" to us. Gus is also shy and often has his eyebrows knit in a look of consternation. We aren't sure what could be so troubling at his tender age, but every night when we put him to bed, he does ask us about "monsers." He is the type of little guy who tries to clean up all of one object in the room, and gets upset if Leif tries to hold onto one crayon when he has rounded up all the others. Currently his favorite phrase is "non't do THAT." He is very good about kneeling down for family prayer and singing songs with us. His favorite is "I Love to See the Temple." You can't understand very much of what he says because he doesn't enunciate well and everything sounds like a garble, but he tries REALLY hard, and we love it. Like most kids his age, Gus has to have everything exactly like his older brother. When we serve them food, he waits to check that his and Leif's are the same. This presents problems for us because he is allergic to dairy and often has something a little different than Leif. Yesterday we made homemade icecream and snuck a similar-colored, store-bought soy ice cream into his bowl. We breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't notice. </div>Livhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828869248426175313noreply@blogger.com5