<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027</id><updated>2012-01-29T11:28:48.861-05:00</updated><category term='childhood'/><category term='Visitation'/><category term='Lady with a Snake Body'/><category term='Lemonade Stand'/><category term='Presidential Wit'/><category term='bicycle built for two'/><category term='Jimmy John&apos;s'/><category term='George Washington'/><category term='Math'/><category term='Brad'/><category term='Cell Phone Etiquette 101'/><category term='Potato Chips'/><category term='Kids visit with Santa'/><category term='summer'/><category term='Lee DeWyze'/><category term='Popcorn'/><category term='mailman'/><category term='Trick or Treating'/><category term='Hubby'/><category term='Elves'/><category term='Leo Hildebrand'/><category term='gorcery bags'/><category term='kids'/><category term='Painting'/><category term='Holidays'/><category term='Dental surgery'/><category term='Steve Pavlina'/><category term='Lily'/><category term='Archie Bunker'/><category term='Karene&apos;s Kitchen'/><category term='Hurricane Ike'/><category term='Georgia'/><category term='New Presidential Candidate'/><category term='joy'/><category term='Happy Birthday'/><category term='Bud LIght'/><category term='Sleepover'/><category term='Zoo Zoo'/><category term='Black US President'/><category term='Burnin&apos; Down the House'/><category term='speeding tickets'/><category term='magic eraser'/><category term='licorice'/><category term='Ben and Jerry&apos;s'/><category term='fall back'/><category term='Lawn Mowers'/><category term='Presidential Debate'/><category term='JC Penny'/><category term='Violent Femmes'/><category term='Drink Recipes'/><category term='My Silly Husband'/><category term='butterball'/><category term='Kiss'/><category term='You know you&apos;re getting old when'/><category term='pull over'/><category term='Swine Flu'/><category term='ebay'/><category term='Trilogy of Terror'/><category term='testing christmas tree lights'/><category term='iCarly'/><category term='Tracy Reiman'/><category term='Santa'/><category term='hot dogs'/><category term='gifts'/><category term='Beware of the Doghouse'/><category term='nokia'/><category term='Band of Brothers'/><category term='The Wednesday Witch'/><category term='Mr. Waffles'/><category term='ambulances'/><category term='drink-o-meter'/><category term='Usborne Books'/><category term='sandwiches'/><category term='Rod Stewart'/><category term='Six Degrees of Randomness'/><category term='water on and off'/><category term='Friday the 13th'/><category term='Victoria&apos;s Secret'/><category term='fashion statement'/><category term='Dating'/><category term='Bulls'/><category term='Sammy Davis Jr.'/><category term='bacon-wrapped hot dogs'/><category term='Garrett&apos;s Sears Tower'/><category term='Ingrid Newkirk&apos;s Will'/><category term='job interviews'/><category term='Chicago Cubs'/><category term='root canal'/><category term='son'/><category term='newspaper'/><category term='I Love Your Blog'/><category term='new washing machine'/><category term='WWII'/><category term='angry drivers'/><category term='Irish Wake'/><category term='Cartoons'/><category term='Freak Show'/><category term='election day'/><category term='moviestars'/><category term='Queen'/><category term='Michael Phelps'/><category term='Rush Limbaugh'/><category term='dragon fly'/><category term='HBO'/><category term='Michael Jackson'/><category term='lab puppy'/><category term='classic'/><category term='pottery'/><category term='Dear Daughter'/><category term='VGNO'/><category term='beer'/><category term='Biden'/><category term='Home Schooling'/><category term='Thomas Jefferson'/><category term='free dog'/><category term='airplane passengers'/><category term='daylight shifting'/><category term='IQ'/><category term='World&apos;s Largest Snake'/><category term='Freaks'/><category term='Don&apos;t Flip Me Off'/><category term='Grease'/><category term='Nanny Goats in Panties'/><category term='Wardrobe Malfuntion'/><category term='Fair'/><category term='cat fight'/><category term='stuffed thanksgiving turkey'/><category term='pool'/><category term='breast milk'/><category term='toilet paper'/><category term='Innaugaration'/><category term='Krispey Kreme'/><category term='Barack Obama Walking on Water'/><category term='Lily&apos;s First Birthday'/><category term='Yes Ma&apos;am'/><category term='good dog'/><category term='Week of the Young Child'/><category term='chicken kiev'/><category term='My Art Museum'/><category term='presidential election'/><category term='Goats'/><category term='Viewing'/><category term='bigot'/><category term='Just For Fun'/><category term='humor'/><category term='racism'/><category term='penguins'/><category term='World Series'/><category term='Bush'/><category term='Andrew Whiiten'/><category term='tandem bike'/><category term='All In The Family'/><category term='American Idol'/><category term='Memorial Day'/><category term='blog give away'/><category term='Spaghetti Tacos'/><category term='Christmas countdown widget'/><category term='tradition'/><category term='A Christmas Story'/><category term='Aurora Borialis from Space'/><category term='rimless glasses'/><category term='Fancy Mouse'/><category term='John McCain'/><category term='Food Lion'/><category term='UzzieMom'/><category term='densel fly'/><category term='Marcelyn'/><category term='Easter'/><category term='Barack Obama'/><category term='Recipes'/><category term='Coronor'/><category term='July 4th'/><category term='christmas gifts for kids'/><category term='911'/><category term='PETA'/><category term='Twitter'/><category term='box turtle'/><category term='rotten drivers'/><category term='Kris Allen'/><category term='shoes thrown at United States President George Bush'/><category term='Family'/><category term='cleaning the garage'/><category term='cricket'/><category term='Kentucky Fried Chicken'/><category term='The Mighty Flea'/><category term='Adam Lambert'/><category term='Twizzlers'/><category term='Farting'/><category term='fallen christmas tree'/><category term='Twin Towers'/><category term='taco bell'/><category term='Cheney'/><category term='Giggles'/><category term='presidential ticket'/><category term='Shakespeare'/><category term='pre-sliced pizza'/><category term='you pet'/><category term='color tv'/><category term='redistribution of wealth'/><category term='Orange Soda'/><category term='daylight savings time'/><category term='Olympics'/><category term='2010 Census'/><category term='Ashley'/><category term='World&apos;s Smallest Horse'/><category term='Kitchen Retro'/><category term='Funeral'/><category term='tickets'/><category term='Cyndi Lauper'/><category term='Wake'/><category term='goals'/><category term='You Know You&apos;re From Chicago When'/><category term='Wordless Wednesday'/><category term='125 cards'/><category term='How I Met My Spouse'/><category term='dog'/><category term='award'/><category term='Fourth of July'/><category term='Pizza Amore&apos;'/><category term='band concerts'/><category term='what would you do?'/><category term='tabby cat'/><category term='VP debate'/><category term='cat food'/><category term='Thanksgiving specials'/><category term='Restaurants'/><category term='funny names'/><category term='riding the school bus'/><category term='Are You Smart?'/><category term='Freschetta'/><category term='the fly'/><category term='Elvis Presley'/><category term='Ponce Inlet Lighthouse'/><category term='Sarah Palin'/><title type='text'>Lily's Licorice</title><subtitle type='html'>The silliness of life!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>161</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1278962744529822247</id><published>2011-08-13T02:08:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-13T02:09:28.155-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Goats'/><title type='text'>GOATS!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c-yEKvcVj9w/TkYT_B6UjOI/AAAAAAAABHo/LM_Fgf_t1Pg/s1600/goat.aspx" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c-yEKvcVj9w/TkYT_B6UjOI/AAAAAAAABHo/LM_Fgf_t1Pg/s1600/goat.aspx" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now I LOVE Goats! &amp;nbsp;If I could have a pet goat I would, but unfortunately it is against the law in my town. &amp;nbsp;How can they possibly deny us from being able to have our own goat? &amp;nbsp;After all, wouldn't you think the town would love for us to keep our lawn perfectly mowed at all times?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;So where did this love for goats come from? &amp;nbsp;Not sure. &amp;nbsp;They are cute. &amp;nbsp;They do end up at all the petting zoos you go to when you are a child. &amp;nbsp;And when there, you get to feed those cute little guys who nibble that food out of your hand ever so gently. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Speaking of petting zoos! &amp;nbsp;My first recollection of a goat is the BIG black goat at some family attraction that my parents used to take my sisters and I to. &amp;nbsp;My mom used to always carry black licorice around with her. &amp;nbsp;(hence the "licorice" in the name of this blog). &amp;nbsp;Well on this family outing, that BIG black goat followed my mom EVERYWHERE and kept eating the licorice out of her pocket. &amp;nbsp;We still raz my mom to this day about that goat and her licorice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now, where I think I fell in love with goats was at Camp Charrith in Baraboo, WI. &amp;nbsp;I went to that camp every summer when I was a kid. &amp;nbsp;I loved it! &amp;nbsp;There was a farm attached and Tiny, the goat was our camp mascot. &amp;nbsp;He was so cute - a typical cute white goat. &amp;nbsp;He had the greatest personality and we'd play and feed him. &amp;nbsp;One thing I loved about him was how he'd always stand on top of his house. :) &amp;nbsp;Oh how I loved that goat!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now this next episode would make me hate goats if I hadn't already loved them so. &amp;nbsp;After my son was born, my parents were visiting and we took my new son to Magnolia Plantation. &amp;nbsp;They have a fabulous petting zoo with goats there. &amp;nbsp;So I thought! &amp;nbsp;They had two GIANT goats that just loved my chest cause it was producing milk and they seemed to think they should have some. &amp;nbsp;I'll never forget my dad trying to get those goats off my chest! &amp;nbsp;I actually ended up with brown and green spots on my shirt from those darn goats trying to nurse off me!!! &amp;nbsp;It was a pretty hysterical scene. Such a shame we didn't have that on video!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Not sure what brought up the thought of these goats tonight, but I still wish I could have one for a pet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1278962744529822247?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1278962744529822247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1278962744529822247' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1278962744529822247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1278962744529822247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2011/08/goats.html' title='GOATS!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c-yEKvcVj9w/TkYT_B6UjOI/AAAAAAAABHo/LM_Fgf_t1Pg/s72-c/goat.aspx' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-5733075078038341783</id><published>2011-07-20T20:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T21:12:16.568-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='childhood'/><title type='text'>What Are Your Kids Missing From Your Childhood?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C5ryeR1U75M/Tid4nsvUZMI/AAAAAAAABGs/PYo-AlqgQ2c/s1600/kids%2Briding%2Bbikes" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 190px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C5ryeR1U75M/Tid4nsvUZMI/AAAAAAAABGs/PYo-AlqgQ2c/s320/kids%2Briding%2Bbikes" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631602482469954754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;As summer rolls along, I think about the summers of my childhood and what my kids are missing out on.  One of the best parts of summer was being able to roam the neighborhood freely even once it started to get dark.  As we got into our jr. high years we even were able to ride our bikes after dark!  Sounds CRAZY doesn't it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Life was so different then, and I so wish our kids had the freedom we had.  We even had the freedom to let the wind blow through our hair as we rode our bikes.  Now kids are forced to wear helmets.  That was one thing I did put my foot down on.  I survived childhood with no helmet, so I didn't force my kids to wear one either.  I'm not the only mom in the neighborhood that did that either, so you can't call me a bad mom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;When we were really young, our moms would pack us lunches and my group of friends (I think we were about 6, 7, 8 yrs old at the time) would load them up in the wagon and we'd walk up to the park and eat in the sand under the big turtle at the playground.  NO MOMS came with.  We were free to eat in the sand and dirt, play on the equipment (and I'm sure we never washed our hands), and come home when we felt like it.  Ah...the freedom of those days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;In fact I don't remember our moms ever being around!  My mom was a stay-at-home mom so I know she was home.  So were all the other moms.  But they never meddled in what we were doing.  We just did what we wanted, and never got in trouble.  We'd go from one house to the other.  Each house was known for different things.  If we wanted to watch TV we'd go to Jennie's cause her mom didn't care if we watched TV.  If we wanted to play Barbies, my house was the place to go.  I had EVERY Barbie item imaginable, and the best basement to play hide and seek in.  Fisher Price Little People we'd go to Carol's.  She had the whole clan of Little People!  The Eagan's had the best swing set and trampoline and their backyard had a hill in it.  And of course, there was the whole street to play games in and many other yards and houses.  Everyone had their own unique roll in the neighborhood.  Now, for my kids, heaven forbid they step on a blade of grass on someone's lawn.  Surveylance cameras watch every move they make!  One kid in our neighborhood even had the cops called on him cause he danced in front of the camera just to make fun of it.  Come on people!  Let kids be kids!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;So what are your kids missing from your own childhood in this new and crazy mixed up world of today?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-5733075078038341783?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/5733075078038341783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=5733075078038341783' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5733075078038341783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5733075078038341783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2011/07/what-are-your-kids-missing-from-your.html' title='What Are Your Kids Missing From Your Childhood?'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C5ryeR1U75M/Tid4nsvUZMI/AAAAAAAABGs/PYo-AlqgQ2c/s72-c/kids%2Briding%2Bbikes' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-2722893239927074653</id><published>2011-07-13T00:02:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T00:04:05.272-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wordless Wednesday'/><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NNGoIU8COeY/Th0ZI5thrWI/AAAAAAAABGM/Lab1uwo7T_8/s1600/mrwafflesmay2011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628682750004407650" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NNGoIU8COeY/Th0ZI5thrWI/AAAAAAAABGM/Lab1uwo7T_8/s320/mrwafflesmay2011.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-2722893239927074653?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/2722893239927074653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=2722893239927074653' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2722893239927074653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2722893239927074653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2011/07/wordless-wednesday.html' title='Wordless Wednesday'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NNGoIU8COeY/Th0ZI5thrWI/AAAAAAAABGM/Lab1uwo7T_8/s72-c/mrwafflesmay2011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-6478390220007930399</id><published>2011-07-09T14:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-09T15:00:02.643-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='magic eraser'/><title type='text'>The Magic Eraser Realy Does Work Like Magic!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h-e9qeMLeco/Thij5ssu0yI/AAAAAAAABF8/1Tineas6dQk/s1600/magiceraser.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 232px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627427946046083874" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h-e9qeMLeco/Thij5ssu0yI/AAAAAAAABF8/1Tineas6dQk/s320/magiceraser.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#3366ff;"&gt;So my silly hubby has gotten into the habit of washing dishes that are in the kitchen sink with my precious Magic Erasers! I save these things for scrubbing our white kitchen floor(it's amazing how a white floor will shine up with those Magic Erasers) or getting marks off the cabinets or walls. These erasers aren't expensive, but they aren't cheap either, so I was getting miffed that he was using them to wash dishes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Well...needless to say, he left one in the sink. I certainly wasn't going to let it go to waste, so I used it to clean one of my pots. OMG! It's amazing how easy baked on food comes off AND how nice my pot shined up! So now I use the Magic Erasers on my pots too! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Who knew sillyhead would introduce me to something this awesome! And here I was fussing at him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-6478390220007930399?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/6478390220007930399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=6478390220007930399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/6478390220007930399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/6478390220007930399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2011/07/magic-eraser-realy-does-work-like-magic.html' title='The Magic Eraser Realy Does Work Like Magic!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h-e9qeMLeco/Thij5ssu0yI/AAAAAAAABF8/1Tineas6dQk/s72-c/magiceraser.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-6682159429406799151</id><published>2011-07-07T23:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-07T23:27:27.907-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='angry drivers'/><title type='text'>IMPATIENCE!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vJ3Qc4gcAZ0/ThZ2-NLj9QI/AAAAAAAABF0/7LO5LyiG3zI/s1600/angrydriver.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 286px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626815595508135170" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vJ3Qc4gcAZ0/ThZ2-NLj9QI/AAAAAAAABF0/7LO5LyiG3zI/s320/angrydriver.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Those who know me know that I get really irritated with angry drivers and just plain stupid drivers. I have written many posts on this very subject. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Well, the other day, the car in back of me had 3 crabby young men in it. They were honking and yelling (swearing their heads off! and I had kids in the car!), and flipping me off waving their fists out the windows (did I mention I had kids in the car?). They were so irritated cause I was stopped and they wanted to &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;GO!&lt;/span&gt; So what was I to do? Move forward and run into the train that was going over the tracks in front of me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-6682159429406799151?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/6682159429406799151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=6682159429406799151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/6682159429406799151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/6682159429406799151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2011/07/impatience.html' title='IMPATIENCE!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vJ3Qc4gcAZ0/ThZ2-NLj9QI/AAAAAAAABF0/7LO5LyiG3zI/s72-c/angrydriver.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-5629923119233385044</id><published>2011-07-04T00:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-04T00:46:53.464-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fourth of July'/><title type='text'>Memories of the Classic Extended Family Fourth of July Picnics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BSzVSn45naE/ThE_ZrhcRVI/AAAAAAAABFs/HuuOth81yZ4/s1600/familypicnic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 155px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625347119974729042" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BSzVSn45naE/ThE_ZrhcRVI/AAAAAAAABFs/HuuOth81yZ4/s320/familypicnic.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;The Fourth of July was one of my most favorite holidays as a kid. It was a big family production and everyone had so much fun. It was a WHOLE LONG DAY affair. Looking back, it's amazing how much work went into these wonderful day long picnics.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;We started out at picnics in Lord's Park in Elgin, IL. I loved that park. I mostly remember the playground and the lake that had swans and peacocks. It also had this odd museum of stuffed animals. I wonder why that was there! There was a swimming pool, but we never went swimming, we were too busy eating and playing crocket. After 5th grade we would move our big Fourth of July Family Picnic to some state park in McHenry County. It got moved cause I got jumped on that playground and beat up by a not-so-nice girl! I remember my grandfather running over to save me! Crazy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;So of course, I remember the picnics in McHenry County more, as I was older. There are the classic events that happened every year. My mom yelling at my dad at 8 am, yes we would get there at 8 am, about where to move the picnic tables. Dad wearing his golashes cause heaven forbid a little bit of dew get on his gym shoes. Classic! We still make fun of him for that!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;The best meal on the Fourth of July was breakfast. There's nothing like eggs and bacon cooked on the grill. My mom would make your eggs to order too. She knew exactly how everyone wanted their eggs. There were alot of eggs to make with my grandparents, and four sets of aunts and uncles, cousins and relatives from Iowa all there. Not to mention friends that we brought with. And did I tell you my mom makes THE BEST bacon ever! But the best part of Fourth of July breakfast was the chocolate chip coffee cake that mom would get from The Village Bakery. Yum! Especially with a little butter on it! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;There was plenty to do throughout the day. We'd play badminton - my little cousins would chase the poor chipmunks with the rackets, volleyball, jarts, and go hiking. One year Aunt Willa would fall in the coal pit playing badminton! If you knew her, you'd be laughing! Typical large great-aunt playing badminton in white shorts and heels! Needless to say, her white shorts were no longer white after that episode. Good thing the coals had cooled off too! One year my cousin and I got really lost hiking! I thought we were going to die out there! Luckily a nice family found us and returned us to our family. We never did that again! There was also the McHenry Dam you could walk up to. We'd hike up to the Dam with our uncles. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;By then we were hungry for lunch! Lunch was a big affair! We had hamburgers, hot dogs, bratwurst, grandma's baked beans, the famous Sterzing potato chips from Iowa - The Iowa Potato Chips, mom's homemade potato salad, watermelon, and lots of different pies for desert. And brownies of course! We had the same spread for dinner too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;We'd spend ALL day out there just having a blast. Then as evening started to roll in, we'd pack up and head out to Arlington Park Race Track for the fireworks. What fun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;I wish my kids got to have a blast like this on the Fourth. My family doesn't do the big picnic at McHenry anymore. Now they are in my sister's back yard, which is huge, but it's not like being in McHenry. All the living relatives still come though. Wish I could be there. Wish the kids could be there. Wish the Village Bakery was still open so I could have some of that Chocolate Chip Coffee Cake!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;Happy Independence Day to you all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-5629923119233385044?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/5629923119233385044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=5629923119233385044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5629923119233385044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5629923119233385044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2011/07/memories-of-classic-extended-family.html' title='Memories of the Classic Extended Family Fourth of July Picnics'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BSzVSn45naE/ThE_ZrhcRVI/AAAAAAAABFs/HuuOth81yZ4/s72-c/familypicnic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-4966843222631691582</id><published>2011-04-21T23:34:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-22T01:11:08.200-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marcelyn'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. Waffles'/><title type='text'>Lily's New Friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_QNPd6FwxFY/TbD3t4WSNMI/AAAAAAAABFA/orqQK5V5xJY/s1600/shannon3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 270px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598246704413553858" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_QNPd6FwxFY/TbD3t4WSNMI/AAAAAAAABFA/orqQK5V5xJY/s320/shannon3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vi5dudBcR9U/TbD3jUqXqxI/AAAAAAAABE4/p0Jy3OCcEKo/s1600/desert1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 171px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 217px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598246523035429650" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vi5dudBcR9U/TbD3jUqXqxI/AAAAAAAABE4/p0Jy3OCcEKo/s320/desert1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So we went to the beach for my son's birthday and somehow came home with these two new pups. Well, I guess they are about 2. Got them from a shelter, which I highly recommend anyone wanting a dog to do - get them from a shelter. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;After all I put up with when Lily was a pup, I certainly do enjoy these two priceless pooches. My hubby thought we were coming home with one dog for my son. He was not pleased when we arrived with two! But come on! How much space does that little dog on the right take up?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So here we go with introductions:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Marcelyn - is my son's dog. She is on the left. They claim she is part Carolina Dog (a swamp dog with is perfect for my son who loves the swamps of South Carolina). I swear she is part fox though. When she is standing she totally looks lik a fox!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mr. Waffles - is my daughter's dog. She loves making pancakes and when we left the shelter we passed a breakfast place called Mr. Waffles. He totally looks like a Mr. Waffles. He at first was the silliest looking dog. But with lots of love and care, he has turned into the cutest little thing! AND he does nothing wrong!!!! Unlike some horse I know that lives around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-4966843222631691582?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/4966843222631691582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=4966843222631691582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4966843222631691582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4966843222631691582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2011/04/lilys-new-friends.html' title='Lily&apos;s New Friends'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_QNPd6FwxFY/TbD3t4WSNMI/AAAAAAAABFA/orqQK5V5xJY/s72-c/shannon3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1390262381517812023</id><published>2011-04-09T17:26:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-09T17:45:24.955-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can Be Silent No Longer</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-skwXECzB1Lg/TaDPOi6OVkI/AAAAAAAABEY/5czODpyoAiM/s1600/usaflagonpentagon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 220px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593698585990288962" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-skwXECzB1Lg/TaDPOi6OVkI/AAAAAAAABEY/5czODpyoAiM/s320/usaflagonpentagon.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Remember when they unfurled the American flag on the pentagon after it was attacked on 9/11? All I could think of was the line from the &lt;em&gt;National Anthem&lt;/em&gt; "And our flag was still there". That's what I think every time I see this picture. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Nowadays, I have great concern that our flag won't be around much longer. It seems as the sole of this country is being sold to those who don't love or understand this country. It's also being sold to those who don't want us to stay a sovereign nation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#3333ff;"&gt;We are treading on thin ice by not supporting Israel like we used to. We are now in the practice of supporting governments who want to get rid of the great country of Israel. Those who stand against Israel clearly are on the wrong side! This has been proven throughout history time and time again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#3333ff;"&gt;We have lost God in this country. No - many have thrown God out of this country. All other customs are catered to and our national customers are now shunned, especially our Christian customs. Kids get in trouble for wearing a cross to school. Freedom of Religion has been misconstrued to be Freedom FROM Religion - which was not our founding fathers intent, nor is it in the Constitution!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#3333ff;"&gt;I can go on and on and on, but you wil see some new stuff sporting the pages of Lily's Licorice. We, of course, will keep our humor. You have to have humor to survive in life, but come on people! Pay attention to what is going on! Your country and your livihood depends on it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1390262381517812023?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1390262381517812023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1390262381517812023' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1390262381517812023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1390262381517812023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-can-be-silent-no-longer.html' title='I Can Be Silent No Longer'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-skwXECzB1Lg/TaDPOi6OVkI/AAAAAAAABEY/5czODpyoAiM/s72-c/usaflagonpentagon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-8591489526351153384</id><published>2010-05-26T22:54:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T23:20:30.682-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='American Idol'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lee DeWyze'/><title type='text'>Why Lee DeWyze Won American Idol</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S_3fZEcTsbI/AAAAAAAABA0/svdetGme_qA/s1600/leedewyze.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 90px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 85px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475778343734587826" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S_3fZEcTsbI/AAAAAAAABA0/svdetGme_qA/s320/leedewyze.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;Lee DeWyze, of Mt. Prospect, IL, joins the ranks of other great American Idol men such as David Cook, Chris Allen, and Taylor Hicks. Why, when he was up against someone who seemed to have so much more stage presence, did he win? It's simple. People loved the more clean-cut, humble, nice guy that Lee DeWyze is.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;He's the type of guy I wouldn't mind my daughter dating someday. If my son brought home his opponent, Crystal Bowersox, I wouldn't be too happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;All through the season Lee was so humble as he came on stage week after week. He grew as a person and an artist. Crystal, however, had an attitude of "entitlement", and appeared to assume she was going to win it all. This attitude was very clear tonight. Yes, everyone in America, including Bowersox, probably thought she had won. But she acted like she had already won. I was thinking - "I so hope she doesn't win just to put her in her place." And HA! She didn't!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;It is now clear, that American Idol fans realized that DeWyze was just plain nervous last night. The guy is so down to earth and such a regular guy that many fans could relate to him if put in his situation. Plus he had excelled in the regular season. I'm so glad the fans voted on the whole season rather than just one night. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;DeWyze deserves the title of American Idol. An IDOL is someone people look up to - someone you'd be proud that your kids look up too. Thank you Lee DeWyze for being someone I am thrilled that my kids look up to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;One last thing.....DeWyze is probably the most gracious winner of all the American Idol winners. Now, I'm sure many think it's because he probably thought he had lost, but that's just Lee DeWyze. Congratulations Lee!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-8591489526351153384?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/8591489526351153384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=8591489526351153384' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8591489526351153384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8591489526351153384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2010/05/why-lee-dewyze-won-american-idol.html' title='Why Lee DeWyze Won American Idol'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S_3fZEcTsbI/AAAAAAAABA0/svdetGme_qA/s72-c/leedewyze.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-5079520083881393706</id><published>2010-05-10T12:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T18:36:45.800-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2010 Census'/><title type='text'>Census Takers - I Am NOT An Idiot!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S-c3NbDCGzI/AAAAAAAABAk/btL0nVGocew/s1600/censusform.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 125px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 94px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469400976203062066" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S-c3NbDCGzI/AAAAAAAABAk/btL0nVGocew/s320/censusform.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ok, so we all know that my silly hubby likes to throw away all important stuff and keep the non-important stuff. So....when the 2010 Census Form arrived where do you think it went? Yes. The circular file.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So.... of course the Census Gestapo had to come to our house while my silly hubby was at work. Imagine that! Why is it that I always have to take the brunt of his silliness?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So today while making lunch for the kiddos two ladies in two vehicles came knocking on the door. I actually was afraid at first cause there were two ladies in two big SUVs coming up to my house with clip boards, and they didn't look nice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I answered the door and they immediately were happy that I answered the door. They said most people won't answer the door for them. Well I wish I hadn't. So began my interogation by the Gestapo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;They refused to let me fill out my own census form! "You won't print the letters properly." That was their reasoning! Well when someone basically tells me I am STUPID I take offense. I was schooled in one of the BEST school districts in the nation, have a college degree in journalism no less (maybe she thought I could only type and not print -- now it makes sense!), and now run my own business. Oh! And I homeschool my kids and last I checked they print pretty well themselves. So I think I print well enough to fill out a Census form.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I know by law all you need to divulge is how many people live in the household. She was not happy that I refused to give out birthdates. She had a form longer than the Sally Forrester Shopping Surveys! Did she really think I was going to answer all that? Uh, NO! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I did give our names and relations. When I told her one was my son she asked if he was a male. Last I checked a son is some one of the "male" species. She did the same with my daughter. "Is your daughter a female?" she asked. Are your kidding me?!? Who even asks that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I was getting more ticked off by the moment. Especially with the other lady who stood there and just glared! What was my tax money paying her for? To help gang up on me? And why did they have to come in two vehicles? So they can both submit for the milage payback? WAKE UP AMERICA - the Census is costing us double because of nonsene like this. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So then she asked me what my race is. It's pretty darn obvious by looking at me. I said "I'm a regular American." She literally asked, "So do you think you are a caucasian?" Do I think I'm a caucasian!?!?!? I KNOW I'm a caucasian, and if you can't figure that out you've got a major problem!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was when she asked me who my mortgage company was that I finally walked inside the house and slammed the door. I don't know what that was, but that was purely weird and harassing. And I'm still so stumped that we, as tax payers, are paying DOUBLE for this nonsense!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-5079520083881393706?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/5079520083881393706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=5079520083881393706' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5079520083881393706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5079520083881393706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2010/05/census-takers-i-am-not-idiot.html' title='Census Takers - I Am NOT An Idiot!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S-c3NbDCGzI/AAAAAAAABAk/btL0nVGocew/s72-c/censusform.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1352741450794874992</id><published>2010-05-07T11:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T11:38:00.576-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Orange Soda'/><title type='text'>What Flavor Is Orange Soda?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S-I6qfJn_nI/AAAAAAAABAc/LwnpeJOfBiI/s1600/orange+soda.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 98px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 170px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467997399171989106" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S-I6qfJn_nI/AAAAAAAABAc/LwnpeJOfBiI/s320/orange+soda.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;My son just asked me the question that is the title of this post. I am speechless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1352741450794874992?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1352741450794874992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1352741450794874992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1352741450794874992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1352741450794874992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-flavor-is-orange-soda.html' title='What Flavor Is Orange Soda?'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S-I6qfJn_nI/AAAAAAAABAc/LwnpeJOfBiI/s72-c/orange+soda.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-3409358107490413690</id><published>2010-05-05T23:25:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T00:07:24.098-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lily'/><title type='text'>Bad Dog Lily! Lily Eats Blinds and Jumps Out the Kitchen Window!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S-I2zTzCNFI/AAAAAAAABAU/_MoBKHhqKGk/s1600/dog+looking+out+window.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467993152696759378" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S-I2zTzCNFI/AAAAAAAABAU/_MoBKHhqKGk/s320/dog+looking+out+window.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;I only wish the dog in the pic was our Lily. It's actually quiet and docile and not trying to eat the window blinds and screen, and I don't see a single dog hair on that white tile. All her hair must magically adhere to the black tiles!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;So Lily, whose goal in life is to send me to the sanitarium, decides she just HAS to get the darn cat that is our in our front yard. Does she decide to go out the front door like any normal person would do? NO! She has to eat the nice "faux" wood blinds that are on the kitchen window and literally jump through the screen to chase that cat down the block! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;The kids now know that if they want the beast Lily back, they have to fetch her themselves, cause Mom is NOT CHASING after that dog anymore. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;For those of you who are newer to Lily's Licorice, here's what this FREE dog has cost me. Let's add $125 to the tab for the blinds and the screen - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-free-dog-has-cost-me-2791.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-free-dog-has-cost-me-2791.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Free Dog To Good Home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;(not really - I'd have a very sad little girl if I was lucky enough to give this dang dog away to someone dumb enought to take it)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-3409358107490413690?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3409358107490413690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=3409358107490413690' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3409358107490413690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3409358107490413690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2010/05/bad-dog-lily-lily-eats-blinds-and-jumps.html' title='Bad Dog Lily! Lily Eats Blinds and Jumps Out the Kitchen Window!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S-I2zTzCNFI/AAAAAAAABAU/_MoBKHhqKGk/s72-c/dog+looking+out+window.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-3506953817591198646</id><published>2010-04-28T16:53:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T17:46:04.169-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job interviews'/><title type='text'>How to Royally Blow a Job Interview</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I ran up to the local convenient store to get some Coke (pop) today. There, outside on the sidewalk, was the manager clearly conducting an interview with a potential employee. The potential employee had on a dirty camoflauge t-shirt, jeans, and a ratty baseball cap. I doubt he had taken a shower, much less combed his hair before heading out for this job interview. Although I guess you don't need to comb your hair good if you are going to wear a baseball cap anyway. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What made this disastrous interview scene even better was the guy had his wife, who was not even dressed properly to go into the store, sitting in their pickup truck right in front of where he was interviewing. She was watching, and watching, and watching what was going on. That poor store manager, I felt so sorry for her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And I felt even worse for the guy trying to get the job. It was clear he needed a job, and it was clear he probably isn't very employable. Even though you fall into that later catagory, there are steps you can take to ensure some glimmer of hope when going on a job interview:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;1. Take a shower before you go!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;2. Don't wear a ball cap and comb your hair. Make sure you actually use shampoo when you take that shower before the interview!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;3. Jeans and a t-shirt? Even if you're only trying to get a job at a convenience store, dress presentable. You have one moment to make a first impression on your future boss. Look at least half way decent!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;4. Do NOT take your spouse with to your interview! You are a big boy or girl and can handle this on your own. If you can't you shouldn't be applying for a job anyway. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;5. For those of you who don't adhere to the advice of #4 above, do NOT have your spouse stair and scowl at the interviewer, who would probably be your new boss. Although if your spouse is there glaring at the interviewer I highly doubt you will get that job anyway. DON'T bring your spouse to your next interview, if you are lucky to get another one somewhere else!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sure hope these interview tips help someone out there!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-3506953817591198646?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3506953817591198646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=3506953817591198646' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3506953817591198646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3506953817591198646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2010/04/how-to-royally-blow-job-interview.html' title='How to Royally Blow a Job Interview'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-7870426983728139242</id><published>2010-04-22T23:28:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T23:44:49.195-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nanny Goats in Panties'/><title type='text'>I Love Nanny Goats!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.nannygoatsinpanties.com/"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 125px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 125px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463170073953361218" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S9EUPLWI3UI/AAAAAAAAA_8/zAj1R_1BNrA/s320/nannygoatsinpanties.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I've always loved goats, and would really love to have one as a pet.  I hear they are great lawn mowers, and as my silly hubby is not so hot in the lawn mowing department maybe a goat would be a great addition to our family!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So today I ran across this blog.  The name of it, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nannygoatsinpanties.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;nannygoatinpanties.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;, really got my attention.  And, of course, the Entracard photo of the nanny goat literally in panties caught my attention too!  So I had to click on the nanny goat that was wearing pink panties and discovered such a great blog I had not come across yet!  I love the stories and the photos of all the nanny goats!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I went to camp every summer in Wisconsin and at the outskirts of the camp was a fantastic farm full of goats.  There was one white goat named Tiny that must have been the camp mascot.  He had a fancy house and special place at the camp, and he was so much fun to play with!  I do believe it is because of my six summers with the goats and Tiny that instilled the love of goats in me.  Nanny Goat In Panties reminds me of such a precious, innocent time in my life.  Plus the author's writing is hysterical and right up my alley!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-7870426983728139242?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/7870426983728139242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=7870426983728139242' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/7870426983728139242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/7870426983728139242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-love-nanny-goats.html' title='I Love Nanny Goats!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S9EUPLWI3UI/AAAAAAAAA_8/zAj1R_1BNrA/s72-c/nannygoatsinpanties.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-8186434401608418770</id><published>2010-04-17T16:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T16:57:06.147-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cleaning the garage'/><title type='text'>Husband Available to Clean YOUR Garage!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Clean out the garage.  That is what the project for this weekend is at our household.  I do believe WWIII will break out before the task is done!  So I am pleading with everyone I know to please let my silly hubby clean out YOUR garage instead!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What's the big issue you ask?  Well..... he seems to think that all new stuff and stuff that we actually use needs to go to the side of the road (where the trash people will pick it up).  This is the stuff he is putting down there:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;-my son's new scooter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;-the tent I just bought that we only used once so far&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;-my books!  (let me just say, I am a book rep by profession so he'd be throwing out my inventory!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;-shelves that I keep my book inventory on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;-beach and pool toys - gee, why should I go buy these again in just a couple weeks?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;-any and all clothes (the laundry room is in the garage so these are the clothes we actually wear and are in line to be washed.  Now I know why we never have any clothes - he throws them out!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This is the stuff he seems to think we need to keep:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;-the ugliest lamp you've ever seen that he bought for $3 at the goodwill eight years ago - it sits in a big box taking up LOTS of space&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;-a horse saddle (do we own a horse?  NO!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;-a motor for a boat (do we own a boat? NO!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;-rusted junk from an old hardware store that closed 20 some odd years ago (has he ever used any of it or will he? NO!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I just can't take it anymore.  The neighbors must think we are nuts!  Although I'm sure they already thought that before today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-8186434401608418770?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/8186434401608418770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=8186434401608418770' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8186434401608418770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8186434401608418770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2010/04/husband-available-to-clean-your-garage.html' title='Husband Available to Clean YOUR Garage!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1371434037536125739</id><published>2010-04-04T15:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T19:00:45.001-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Easter'/><title type='text'>Easters of my Childhood</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Seems like we all think about easter baskets, Peeps, jelly beans, chocolate bunnies, easter egg hunts and so forth more than what Easter is really all about. It was somewhat like that when I was a kid. Back then though, we got Good Friday off of school. Kids didn't get Good Friday off here. Good Friday was always the start of "Easter Break". Yep, that's what it said on the school calendar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Looking back we did have all the easter baskets, easter egg hunts and so on. I remember we always got a record with our Easter baskets. If I remember correctly my first record was Fleetwood Mac's Rumors. Now kids get scooters, toys, Barbie's and all that candy. Easter morning has become what Christmas morning was when we were kids. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I really disliked Easter week when I was a kid cause I had to go to church constantly! Making a kid go to church Thursday night, Friday night and then Sunday morning was just too much. And then it was lent so we had to go on Wednesdays that whole month too! I'm a bad mother. I don't make my kids go to all those extra church services. I figure they'll hate going when they grew up. Maybe this way they'll want to go then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Just some Easter tidbits from me. Hope you all had a great one with your family!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1371434037536125739?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1371434037536125739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1371434037536125739' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1371434037536125739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1371434037536125739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2010/04/easters-of-my-childhood.html' title='Easters of my Childhood'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-3570251765650413657</id><published>2010-03-15T17:38:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T17:48:01.658-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Like Putting a Dress on a Pig!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 1px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 1px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448980345252321490" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S56qwQrZmNI/AAAAAAAAA98/QdWqj9oJ3E0/s320/piginadress.bmp" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;I've never heard this term before. "It's like putting a dress on a pig!" Have you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My silly hubby is in an outrage over the fact that his beloved Goodwill store that he likes to frequent is now closed. They built a brand new stand alone building for the Goodwill store, and closed the old location. They are doing that all over the place here in South Carolina. There are multiple locations all within short distances of each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is my hubby's big beef with the "new" store. It used to be nice to go the strip mall where there was the Education Station, The Dollar Store and some other stores along with the Goodwill. Now you have to drive farther up the street (oh my it's SO far!), and it's in it's own parking lot. They've taken the fun out of going to the Goodwill. Plus it had it's own ombiance. Now it's in a new building that doesn't have that "old" feel to it. "It's absurd!", he said. "You go to a brand new multi-million dollar building to buy junk! It's like putting a dress on a pig!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has a point there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-3570251765650413657?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3570251765650413657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=3570251765650413657' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3570251765650413657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3570251765650413657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2010/03/its-like-putting-dress-on-pig.html' title='It&apos;s Like Putting a Dress on a Pig!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S56qwQrZmNI/AAAAAAAAA98/QdWqj9oJ3E0/s72-c/piginadress.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-3024604715683992771</id><published>2010-03-15T00:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T01:04:13.051-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Salt Police?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S5285RIkGLI/AAAAAAAAA9s/JjDUsuCJ7Tw/s1600-h/salt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 170px; height: 113px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S5285RIkGLI/AAAAAAAAA9s/JjDUsuCJ7Tw/s320/salt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448718816226056370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We may actually have to fear the Salt Police?  Are you kidding me?!  If Rep. Felix Ortiz of Brooklyn, NY gets his way, it's chefs in New York who will have to fear the Salt Police.  Per Ortiz's bill, "No owner or operatior in this state shall use salt in any form in the preparation of food."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hm...so how on earth are the famous New York bakeries going to bake all that good stuff they bake.  Last time I baked, I know the recipe called for SALT!  All the wonderful spaghetti and great entrees served in all those fancy restaurants will now taste horrible.  It's amazing what just a "pinch" of salt does for a recipe.  Certainly that "pinch" is not going to kill someone.  And certainly, shouldn't it be our perogative to eat the oh, so bad stuff?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And someone please tell me how anyone is going to make their meat Kosher in New York?  Salt is used to make Kosher meat.  There goes the Jewish Delicatesans!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this really a way to try and "save" us from the ill effects of salt intake?  Or is it a fabulous way to make another industry or two or three go out of business due to rediculous regulations?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My last question is - Will we get arrested if we bring our own salt packets into a New York restaurant?  I'm sure that will be next on the list.  Along with ketchup.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-3024604715683992771?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3024604715683992771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=3024604715683992771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3024604715683992771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3024604715683992771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2010/03/salt-police.html' title='The Salt Police?'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/S5285RIkGLI/AAAAAAAAA9s/JjDUsuCJ7Tw/s72-c/salt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-3965627883622135919</id><published>2010-01-19T00:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T00:32:35.306-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipes'/><title type='text'>Fried Chicken Legs and Corn on the Cob</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Well,  I should have taken a picture of the fantastic dinner I made tonight.  It was really scrumptious.  I had made a great dinner years ago with fried chicken and corn on the cob years ago, but couldn't find the recipe.  So I made this version up myself, and it turned out great!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;I'll just write it out the way I made it tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;-Cook up at least 4 slices of bacon.  I usually mak the whol pack, as everyone including myself ends up nibbling on most of the bacon.  Keep the bacon drippings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;_Slice up three potatoes really thin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;_Pour about 1/2 an inch of cooking oil into a large skillet.  Heat on medium.  Add the left over bacon drippings.  Add a little garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper to the oil.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;_Lay the potatoes in the oil.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;_Crumble the bacon into large pieces and add to oil and potatoe mixture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;_Dredge chicken legs in egg and then a mixture of Progresso bread crumbs, corn meal, garlic powder, onion powder, and bay leaves.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;_Add chicken to the oil and potatoes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;_Continue to turn the chicken legs.  Fry on medium for 20 minutes.  Then add small pieces of frozen corn on the cob.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;_Continue to turn corn and chicken and add baby lima beans or butter beans.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;_Continue frying for another 20 minutes.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;_Take everything out and place into a serving dish lined with paper towel and serve. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Even my son, who's a picky eater, loved this tonight!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-3965627883622135919?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3965627883622135919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=3965627883622135919' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3965627883622135919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3965627883622135919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2010/01/fried-chicken-legs-and-corn-on-cob.html' title='Fried Chicken Legs and Corn on the Cob'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-3330839701409850824</id><published>2009-10-09T22:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T22:42:01.840-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='what would you do?'/><title type='text'>What Would You Have Done?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Ss_yE1vFC8I/AAAAAAAAA5I/KjgdV1a9S3M/s1600-h/tennis+courts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 122px; height: 94px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Ss_yE1vFC8I/AAAAAAAAA5I/KjgdV1a9S3M/s320/tennis+courts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390793443943713730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I took my kids to play tennis today.  We went to a park that we usually don't go to, as there are tennis courts much closer to our house.  I'm not sure why we went to this different park today.  Anyway, when we got to the tennis courts, we got out of the car, and there was NO ONE around.  It was nice and quiet.  All of a sudden this guy about a half block down the street yells "Hey Lady!!" and starts running towards us!  He was running, not just jogging or trotting - he was in a full sprint!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Well heck, I had no clue what this guy was going to do!  I was petrified.  I was a woman with two kids with her and no one else in sight except for this very tall man running towards us.  I don't know what you would have done, but I corralled the kids, got them in the car as fast as I could, started it, locked the doors, rolled the windows up, and then proceeded to high tail it out of there!  When I backed up there he was standing there by my window staring at me.  I didn't know if he needed help or had a gun, but I wasn't about to find out!  I certainly didn't want to be the one that needed help.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So..... what would you have done?  I'm sure I probably blew things out of proportion, but the guy didn't look like he was in distress, he was walking slowly down the street until we got out of the car.  I'm a mom, certainly moms protect their young.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Main lesson to be taught here is: guys, never yell "Hey Lady!" and start sprinting towards a mom and her children.  She just may think you mean harm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-3330839701409850824?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3330839701409850824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=3330839701409850824' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3330839701409850824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3330839701409850824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/10/what-would-you-have-done.html' title='What Would You Have Done?'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Ss_yE1vFC8I/AAAAAAAAA5I/KjgdV1a9S3M/s72-c/tennis+courts.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-2995330271067393441</id><published>2009-10-04T15:18:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T16:24:10.388-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Potato Chips'/><title type='text'>Sterzings Chips - Winner of MY Potato Chip Taste Test</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SskDVy8IU7I/AAAAAAAAA44/-ClaEu1PKH8/s1600-h/sterzings+chips.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SskDVy8IU7I/AAAAAAAAA44/-ClaEu1PKH8/s320/sterzings+chips.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388842102111622066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They came out with the winner of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="Bookmarks%20Toolbar%20Most%20Visited%20http://www.yahoo.com/%20http://yahoo.com/%20http://www.ebay.com/%20http://ebay.com/%20http://mail.yahoo.com/?.intl=us%20http://twitter.com/%20http://my.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?MyEbay&amp;amp;CurrentPage=MyeBaySelling%20http://www.yahoo.com/r/m5%20http://www.facebook.com/%20http://facebook.com/"&gt;The Ultimate Potato Chip Taste Test&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.  The winner was Kettle Krinkle              .  That's fine and dandy, but I'm sure someone forgot to put the OH-SO GREAT &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.sterzingschips.com/"&gt;Sterzings Potato Chips &lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;into the taste contest.  They'd have won hands down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.sterzingschips.com/"&gt;Sterzings Potato Chips&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; were a HUGE treat in our household growing up.  They were better known as the "Iowa Potato Chips". We only got them when Cousin Jim came to visit, or any other relatives from Iowa came to visit.  They would usually load up their trunk with them and deliver to all our relatives on "this side of the river".  River - meaning the Mighty Mississippi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What makes these chips so great?  They are light, and crunchy, and they have a completely different flavor to them.  Also, some of them have these little pockets of grease that are to die for!  Literally, we'd die for those!  Fights would break out, kids would jump over the table even, all for a chip with a grease pocket in it.  I even sold one for a buck to my sister.  My oldest sister is the die-hardest Iowa Potato Chip grease pocket chip monger on the planet.  Still to this day we fight over those!  Too funny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="https://secure.curesolutions.com/sterzingchips/products.asp?id=96&amp;amp;Cat=Order+Some+Chips%21&amp;amp;SubCat=Click+Here+to+order+some+Chips%21&amp;amp;SubCatID=34"&gt;You can order these fantastic chips online here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.  I think I'm going to have to order a pack of 4 bags.  Shipping is already included in the cost.  They are so worth it!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-2995330271067393441?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.sterzingschips.com' title='Sterzings Chips - Winner of MY Potato Chip Taste Test'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/2995330271067393441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=2995330271067393441' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2995330271067393441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2995330271067393441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/10/sterzings-chips-winner-of-my-potato.html' title='Sterzings Chips - Winner of MY Potato Chip Taste Test'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SskDVy8IU7I/AAAAAAAAA44/-ClaEu1PKH8/s72-c/sterzings+chips.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-8225295327488962976</id><published>2009-09-07T12:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T13:02:20.621-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bacon-wrapped hot dogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Karene&apos;s Kitchen'/><title type='text'>Bacon-Wrapped Hot Dogs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SqU7AnL2NJI/AAAAAAAAA3E/Wkvc8WU396I/s1600-h/bacon+wrapped+hotdogs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SqU7AnL2NJI/AAAAAAAAA3E/Wkvc8WU396I/s320/bacon+wrapped+hotdogs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378770211668636818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clearly this is not a healthy eating blog with the type of food that I put on here every so often. We're having bacon-wrapped hot dogs for lunch this fine Labor Day Holiday, so I thought I'd share this post that was originally on &lt;a href="http://www.kareneskitchen.blogspot.com"&gt;Karene's Kitchen&lt;/a&gt; on 9/9/08 (I merged &lt;a href="http://www.kareneskitchen.blogspot.com"&gt;Karene's Kitchen&lt;/a&gt; into Lily's Licorice back in the spring.)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It was always a special treat when mom made the bacon wrapped hot dogs for dinner. That meant we were getting chips and pop with dinner. No salad, potatoes or milk! Yippee!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These are absolutely delicious. You slice an opening long ways in the hot dog. Then you fill it with small slices of American cheese. Take a slice of bacon (2 actually works best to make it fit fully around the hot dog) and wrap it around the hot dog. Then you broil the hot dog til the bacon is done. You can also toast the bun just a bit. Top the dog with what you usually top it with, and Whala! you have a most delectable hot dog. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Enjoy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-8225295327488962976?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/8225295327488962976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=8225295327488962976' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8225295327488962976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8225295327488962976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/09/bacon-wrapped-hot-dogs.html' title='Bacon-Wrapped Hot Dogs'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SqU7AnL2NJI/AAAAAAAAA3E/Wkvc8WU396I/s72-c/bacon+wrapped+hotdogs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-8914842614640036205</id><published>2009-09-06T21:37:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T22:03:03.877-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pool'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><title type='text'>Awww... It's The End Of Summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SqRoEao_rBI/AAAAAAAAA28/M9TUKppB2A8/s1600-h/newingtonpool.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 137px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SqRoEao_rBI/AAAAAAAAA28/M9TUKppB2A8/s320/newingtonpool.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378538280067247122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I don't know about you all, but we (my family) had probably the best summer we've had together (since the kids have arrived).  Did we go on some fancy vacation?  No.  In fact I'm not so sure we even left town.  I did go up to Saluda, SC two times.  Who Hoo!!  That's the happenin' place to be.  Just kidding - it's in the middle of nowhere - and I mean nowhere - but it's very beautiful and peaceful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So what made this summer so wonderful?  Nothing!  That's just it - we did nothing!  We woke up when we wanted, we went to bed when we wanted (my good friends can attest to that), and we went to the pool whenever we wanted.  Yes - we went to the pool whenever we wanted.  Which is pretty much all we ever wanted to do.  So everyday, when we got around to going, we'd pack up the pool bag (pool bag consists of 6 pair of goggles, sun screen, lots of snacks, water, small cooler, reading material for mom, mom's cell phone, mom's notebook, and pen).  Then we'd head out to the pool.  Most days we stayed ALL day or as long as we could.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My point here is this:  I really think the reason we had such a wonderful summer is cause we weren't rushing around trying to do all sorts of stuff, we really enjoyed each other's company (my son and daughter really get along even better now - they actually hung out more together than in their little separate groups with their friends), and it was just laid-back and relaxing.  Plus mom got to hang with her friends too.  I plan to do the same thing next summer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh!  And the added bonus is this fabulous tan I have now, and I lost quite a few pounds with all that swimming too! (and yes that is our pool up above - during a swim meet)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So how was your summer?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-8914842614640036205?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/8914842614640036205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=8914842614640036205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8914842614640036205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8914842614640036205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/09/awww-its-end-of-summer.html' title='Awww... It&apos;s The End Of Summer'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SqRoEao_rBI/AAAAAAAAA28/M9TUKppB2A8/s72-c/newingtonpool.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-3499709526806707605</id><published>2009-08-13T21:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T14:20:01.821-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pottery'/><title type='text'>My First Pottery Piece!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SoWpmbZ6VUI/AAAAAAAAA2k/EyZCaQRFj1g/s1600-h/IMG_1016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SoWpmbZ6VUI/AAAAAAAAA2k/EyZCaQRFj1g/s320/IMG_1016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369884608365745474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My son loves doing pottery.  He's actually pretty good at it and has even won Best In Show awards at the local fair here.  His pottery teacher told me I could join in his classes with him - she's so neat, she let's the moms take the class for free if they wish to stay.  So this go around I decided to.  I'm so glad I did.  Not only did we have a blast together, I actually had a lot of fun!  So I'm showing off my first pottery piece.  It's just a plate, but with the Cataba Blue glaze I used on it, it goes fabulously in my kitchen!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-3499709526806707605?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3499709526806707605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=3499709526806707605' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3499709526806707605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3499709526806707605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-first-pottery-piece.html' title='My First Pottery Piece!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SoWpmbZ6VUI/AAAAAAAAA2k/EyZCaQRFj1g/s72-c/IMG_1016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-3605196227085148777</id><published>2009-08-01T23:00:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T01:09:07.630-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Usborne Books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lily'/><title type='text'>Life Happens! And I Missed My Blogoversary!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SnUcvSvzBqI/AAAAAAAAA2c/sLKzI9S6fXA/s1600-h/lily%27s+l.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 125px; height: 125px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SnUcvSvzBqI/AAAAAAAAA2c/sLKzI9S6fXA/s320/lily%27s+l.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365226129893557922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Life Happens, and because of that I totally missed Lily's Licorice's very 1st Blogoversary!!!  It was July 29th.  I can't believe it.  I wouldn't have noticed it if it weren't for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.purple4mee.com/"&gt;Teena in Toronto!  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thanks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;eena for the warm wishes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When I am really busy with my &lt;a href="http://www.ubah.com/c2264"&gt;Usborne Books&lt;/a&gt; business, unfortunately Lily's Licorice suffers.  But that's ok.  She will always be here.  I have a blast with it. And I have a blast with my Usborne Books business.  By the way!  You can join my team, and start your own Usborne business for only $15!  That's THE BEST offer Usborne has ever had.  They really are trying to help people get their own business started.  You can check it out &lt;a href="http://www.myubam.com/ecommerce/recruitingSpecial.asp?sid=C2264&amp;amp;gid=76794091&amp;amp;emkt=150"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Since, many of you weren't around when Lily's Licorice first started, I am reposting the first original post.  That way you can see WHY it's called Lily's Licorice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt; &lt;a href="http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/07/why-lilys-licorice.html"&gt;Why Lily's Licorice&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h3&gt;  &lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So many silly things happen in our lives each day. All day long silly things come to us via our computers, our mailbox, our children, our dogs, our spouses, our telephone - you get the picture. Life is constantly SILLY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are someone who can find the silliness in any given situation, then you have a leg up on most people in this world. That's me. I can find humor in anything and actually laugh about it! Although that usually gets me in a lot of trouble, but so what. I am the least stressed person I know, and I am the least stressed person all my friends know. I know that cause they always tell me that. And I have to tell you -- I probably have more to stress about than most people do! Find the humor in life. It's so much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, where does the name &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Lily's Licorice&lt;/span&gt; come from. We had an incident today with our brand new lab pub named Lily. She's a beautiful Lab pup that my husband brought home from work one day last month. I was so excited to be getting a brand new puppy. I did not know a horse was going to be walking through my front door! I like small dogs, and my husband brought home a gigantic lab that was only 7 months old yet I didn't have to bend over to pet the thing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, it took some time to bond with my new race horse. Thirty minutes is a long time. She's so mellow and so wonderful, how could you not LOVE her!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today, after being with us less than two months I had to take her to the vet. She was limping last night and this morning she wouldn't even get up. When she finally got up she wouldn't walk on one of her legs, so I had this giant horse hopping around my house on three legs! I wasn't quite sure how I was going to get this horse down the steps and into my van to take it to the dr. Somehow I did it--in the pouring rain no less. The doctor first thought she had some osteo something or other that lab pups get so he took an x-ray. He came back in the exam room shaking his head saying "This is not at all what I would have expected." The dog has buck shot all throughout her leg!!! And that's just the leg that was x-rayed! I can't imagine how much more she has in the rest of her body. Anyway, Lily will be fine. We got her from the lab rescue (had horrible owners before - obvisouly if the dog was used as target practice!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I decided that since I love this dog so much (wow! I'm actually admitting it to the World now) that maybe using her name would be fitting. Lily. Now what goes with Lily? Licorice was the first word that came to my mind. Black licorice at that! Now when I was a kid, my mom carried black licorice around all the time as a snack. I have no clue why!!! One time we were at a petting zoo and a crazy goat kept getting in my mom's purse to eat all her darn black licorice! Boy I bet that goat was sick that night. We certainly weren't cause we never got any!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hence the name&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt; Lily's Licorice&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="post-footer"&gt; &lt;div class="post-footer-line post-footer-line-1"&gt;&lt;span class="post-author vcard"&gt; Posted by &lt;span class="fn"&gt;Kristie&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="post-timestamp"&gt; at &lt;a class="timestamp-link" href="http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/07/why-lilys-licorice.html" rel="bookmark" title="permanent link"&gt;&lt;abbr class="published" title="2008-07-29T23:56:00-04:00"&gt;11:56 PM&lt;/abbr&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="post-comment-link"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="post-icons"&gt; &lt;span class="item-action"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/email-post.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;amp;postID=6371876896987868161" title="Email Post"&gt; &lt;img alt="" class="icon-action" src="http://www.blogger.com/img/icon18_email.gif" width="18" height="13" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="item-control blog-admin pid-1902223268"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;amp;postID=6371876896987868161" title="Edit Post"&gt; &lt;img alt="" class="icon-action" src="http://www.blogger.com/img/icon18_edit_allbkg.gif" width="18" height="18" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="post-backlinks post-comment-link"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="post-footer-line post-footer-line-2"&gt;&lt;span class="post-labels"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="post-footer-line post-footer-line-3"&gt;&lt;span class="post-location"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div class="comments" id="comments"&gt; &lt;a name="comments"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-3605196227085148777?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3605196227085148777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=3605196227085148777' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3605196227085148777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3605196227085148777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/08/life-happens-and-i-missed-my.html' title='Life Happens! And I Missed My Blogoversary!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SnUcvSvzBqI/AAAAAAAAA2c/sLKzI9S6fXA/s72-c/lily%27s+l.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-5632028898496682841</id><published>2009-07-14T23:19:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T23:32:54.395-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='George Washington'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Presidential Wit'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thomas Jefferson'/><title type='text'>Presidential Wit</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I have this book, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;Presidential Wit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, that I just love.  It gives you an idea of how our former presidents really were - a sense of their personality that we don't usually get to see.  Here are some of my favorite quotes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;John Adams:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SmFAYLWnodI/AAAAAAAAA1k/QYUvHu624aM/s1600-h/john+adams.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 52px; height: 72px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SmFAYLWnodI/AAAAAAAAA1k/QYUvHu624aM/s320/john+adams.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359635815656301010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"During a tour of Princeton University, Adams was taken into the chapel, where, he said, "the scholars sing as badly as the Presbyterians in New York." " August 24, 1774 (pg. 12)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"From John Adams to his wife, Abigail Adams: "I must not write a word to you about politics, because you are a woman." "  December 30, 1778  (pg. 12)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thomas Jefferson:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SmFAvcKYQbI/AAAAAAAAA1s/VIRSuOvZNeE/s1600-h/thomas+jefferson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 52px; height: 72px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SmFAvcKYQbI/AAAAAAAAA1s/VIRSuOvZNeE/s320/thomas+jefferson.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359636215305355698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"In a letter to John Jay, Jefferson described Louis XVI during a crisis in France:  "He hunts one half of the day, is drunk the other, and signs whatever he is bid."  October 8, 1787  (pg. 17)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Politeness is artificial good humor, and a valuable preservative of peace and tranquility."  Letter to a Friend Novermber 24, 1808  (pg. 19)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;John Quincy Adams:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SmFBAJAfOUI/AAAAAAAAA10/Zaa038hT4JA/s1600-h/johnqadamsw.monroe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 60px; height: 72px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SmFBAJAfOUI/AAAAAAAAA10/Zaa038hT4JA/s320/johnqadamsw.monroe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359636502221371714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"The wife of Willis Anderson came again to petition for his pardon.  She hinted that her husband did not wish to be discharged from prison himself, and that it would be no relaxation of his punishment to turn him over to her."  Diary June 19, 1828  (pg. 30) &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;Ha!  I'm sure many a men would feel this way in this situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Andrew Jackson:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SmFBNz5EbjI/AAAAAAAAA18/HdKklyy5StQ/s1600-h/andrew+jackson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 45px; height: 72px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SmFBNz5EbjI/AAAAAAAAA18/HdKklyy5StQ/s320/andrew+jackson.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359636737071279666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Commenting on Sam Houston, Andrew Jackson remarked:  "There goes a man made by the Lord Almighty and not by his tailor." "  (pg. 34)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Millard Fillmore:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SmFBbFfYuGI/AAAAAAAAA2E/lyk-F5UZ_1g/s1600-h/millard+fillmore+pierce.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 66px; height: 72px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SmFBbFfYuGI/AAAAAAAAA2E/lyk-F5UZ_1g/s320/millard+fillmore+pierce.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359636965133695074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"When James K. Polk won the Presidential election, Fillmore said:  "May God save the country; for it is evident that the people will not." "  Letter to Henry Clay November 11, 1844 (pg. 42)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;Hm.... seems like we are in this same situation today!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;James Buchanan:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SmFBp0NFQBI/AAAAAAAAA2M/OAMZyxvD2Qk/s1600-h/james+buchanan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 53px; height: 72px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SmFBp0NFQBI/AAAAAAAAA2M/OAMZyxvD2Qk/s320/james+buchanan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359637218191556626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Inviting a friend to dinner at his house, James Buchanan wrote:  "I am happy that our tastes on so many subjects are the same and that we both delight in the classical dish of sauerkraut.  Many pretenders to refinement despise this honest German dish; but we know better. I shall therefore expect you." "  (pg. 46)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;With that I think I will stop, as Abraham Lincoln's Presidential wit will be a post in itself.  Then I will take up the rest of the presidents to Johnson.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;Cited from:  Presidential Wit from Washington to Johnson, Compiled and Edited by Bill Adler, Trident Press: New York, 1966.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-5632028898496682841?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/5632028898496682841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=5632028898496682841' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5632028898496682841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5632028898496682841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/07/presidential-wit.html' title='Presidential Wit'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SmFAYLWnodI/AAAAAAAAA1k/QYUvHu624aM/s72-c/john+adams.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-5216038158341719162</id><published>2009-07-08T00:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T00:00:15.066-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wordless Wednesday'/><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday - This is How My Silly Husband Melts Butter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SlPtsMa3YRI/AAAAAAAAA1c/RXxtcf3VMMM/s1600-h/IMG_0636.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SlPtsMa3YRI/AAAAAAAAA1c/RXxtcf3VMMM/s320/IMG_0636.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355885725377585426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a target="_blank" href="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/links.php?owner=lilyl&amp;amp;postid=07Jul2009&amp;amp;meme=ww"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/graphic.php?owner=lilyl&amp;amp;postid=07Jul2009&amp;amp;meme=ww" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-5216038158341719162?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/5216038158341719162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=5216038158341719162' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5216038158341719162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5216038158341719162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/07/wordless-wednesday-this-is-how-my-silly.html' title='Wordless Wednesday - This is How My Silly Husband Melts Butter'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SlPtsMa3YRI/AAAAAAAAA1c/RXxtcf3VMMM/s72-c/IMG_0636.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1286759700256434341</id><published>2009-07-04T00:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T00:00:40.259-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='July 4th'/><title type='text'>Lily Wishes Everyone A Happy 4th of July!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sk5X-EQ1KkI/AAAAAAAAA1M/IDS2p_4iRN4/s1600-h/july4th.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 229px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sk5X-EQ1KkI/AAAAAAAAA1M/IDS2p_4iRN4/s320/july4th.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354313730797939266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1286759700256434341?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1286759700256434341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1286759700256434341' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1286759700256434341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1286759700256434341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/07/lily-wishes-everyone-happy-4th-of-july.html' title='Lily Wishes Everyone A Happy 4th of July!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sk5X-EQ1KkI/AAAAAAAAA1M/IDS2p_4iRN4/s72-c/july4th.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-8402844699346538868</id><published>2009-07-01T13:34:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T22:34:36.603-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Andrew Whiiten'/><title type='text'>Andrew Lee Whitten - March 13, 2009 - July 1, 2009 Our Miracle Baby Is Truely A Blessing!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Skuf96PwHqI/AAAAAAAAA1E/1qKruwNoA8A/s1600-h/andrew.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 97px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Skuf96PwHqI/AAAAAAAAA1E/1qKruwNoA8A/s320/andrew.2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353548468016127650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;How is it that a little baby, who only spent 111 days on this Earth, can make such a huge impact in the lives of so many adults?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back when my friend Heather, Andrew's mom, was pregnant, she and her husband Jim were told that Andrew would not survive, he had a hole in his diaphram and other issues and it was best they terminate the pregnancy.  I know as a parent, those are some harsh words to come from a doctor.  Heather and Jim decided it was going to be up to God whether their baby was going to survive - it was not going to be up to the doctors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Heather and Jim went along with the pregnancy.  Heather was sick the whole time.  The doctors kept telling her the baby, who by now they knew was a boy, probably would not survive being born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday the 13th of March, Andrew Lee Whitten arrived in this world 5 weeks early!  He defied the odds that the doctors had given him and survived being born.  The little guy was on a ventilator, but he was alive and absolutely adorable!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That week was stressful at the hospital.  The doctors didn't seem to want to get Andrew the care he needed.  They insisted he wouldn't survive.  Heather and Jim tried to get Andrew flown to Florida where there was a doctor who was pretty confident he could save Andrew.  After a few days it was determined Andrew would never make it to the medical helicopter let alone all the way to Florida in a helicopter.  So the doctors here in SC, who had never done the type of surgery Andrew needed, decided to go ahead and try.  He had a 2% chance of making it.  The anesthesiologist told Heather and Jim he had a 0% chance, and he thought it was awful they would put him through that surgery!  Can you believe it!  Once again, Heather and Jim went to bat for Andrew - they were his parents, and they wanted him to have every chance he could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, Andrew defied the odds, and survived that surgery!  The doctors and nurses were amazed.  This little baby started getting a little better.  He eventually got strong enough to have the heart surgery he needed.  And in time, Andrew was growing and getting better and slowly weening off the ventilator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heather started making plans for his nursury.  We went to pick out baby stuff for him, and she even registered.  Andrew was growing, he was opening his eyes and smiling and his adorable personality was starting to come out.  He even got to play in the bouncy seat!  We were all excited, because Andrew, our Miracle Baby - as we call him, was probably going to go home around August.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then all of a sudden his heart stopped! What happened?  The doctors were able to bring him back.  They had to put him back on the ventilator.  And then it was determined that Andrew had developed a lung condition from being on the ventilator so long.  The only way to save him was to remove a portion of his lung.  But Andrew was so weak.  He had to get strong in order to undergo the surgery that would save him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday evening, Heather said "she knew".  Andrew felt like a rag doll.  Heather knew something was wrong, and that it wasn't good.  Her fears were confirmed Monday on doctor's rounds.  "This is it", Jim texted my husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediately I went down to the hospital.  There sat Jim, with his beautiful baby son in his arms.  I don't think I've ever seen a grown man cry like that.  Jim wanted one more day with Andrew.  One more day to hold him, to love him, to kiss him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Tuesday evening, Baby Andrew died in his parents arms which were so filled with love for him.  His parents passed him right into the arms of God who has even more love for him than any of us can imagine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew defied all his odds for a long time.  This child proved to doctors that things beyond their medical control happens.  Many of the doctors could not explain why Andrew was able to be with us for 111 days.  It was purely God who wanted Andrew with us for 111 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This baby changed people's perspectives and brought more people to God in 3 1/2 months than most adults do in a lifetime.  The most amazing of which is his father, Jim, found the Lord through all this and became a Christian.  Amazing!  This child came to earth and SAVED his father.  As Heather says, "Andrew was able to do something in 3 1/2 months that she could not accomplish in over 15 years!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Below is the poem Andrew's sister wrote for him a few weeks ago:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" He is My Brother"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;By: Deanna Whitten&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His name is Andrew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is my brother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;" class="text_exposed_show"  &gt;He was born five weeks early.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;" class="text_exposed_show"  &gt;His is my brother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;" class="text_exposed_show"  &gt;He has wires and tubes coming from everywhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;" class="text_exposed_show"  &gt;He is my brother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;" class="text_exposed_show"  &gt;His skin is so soft as I hold his tiny hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;" class="text_exposed_show"  &gt;He is my brother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;" class="text_exposed_show"  &gt;His room always smells so clean. It has to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;" class="text_exposed_show"  &gt;He is my brother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;" class="text_exposed_show"  &gt;His machines, with quiet tones, help him breath. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;" class="text_exposed_show"  &gt;He is my brother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;" class="text_exposed_show"  &gt;His skin tastes sweet as I give him tiny kisses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;" class="text_exposed_show"  &gt;He is my brother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;" class="text_exposed_show"  &gt;His name is Andrew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;" class="text_exposed_show"  &gt;He is my brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew's memorial service will be Sat., July 11.  Please keep the Whitten family in your hearts and prayers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-8402844699346538868?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/8402844699346538868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=8402844699346538868' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8402844699346538868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8402844699346538868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/07/andrew-lee-whitten-march-13-2009-july-1.html' title='Andrew Lee Whitten - March 13, 2009 - July 1, 2009 Our Miracle Baby Is Truely A Blessing!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Skuf96PwHqI/AAAAAAAAA1E/1qKruwNoA8A/s72-c/andrew.2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-5644628069056954973</id><published>2009-06-25T22:47:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T23:49:13.415-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Michael Jackson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Elvis Presley'/><title type='text'>Michael Jackson's Death is like Elvis Presley's Death for Our Generation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SkQ3sn7JzsI/AAAAAAAAA00/uDrJCIeGgy8/s1600-h/Elvis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 124px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SkQ3sn7JzsI/AAAAAAAAA00/uDrJCIeGgy8/s320/Elvis.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351463496993853122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm eating dinner at some restaurant in Michigan on               August 16, 1977, and the waitress tells us that Elvis Presley had died.  I will never forget that moment or that waitress,  or my aunt's reaction.  I was on vacation with my aunt and uncle and cousin.  I had no clue what I was going to be in for when I got home the next day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We arrived home the day after Elvis had died.  As we turned the corner onto my block you could hear Elvis music blaring down the road.  I was so embarrassed, cause I knew it was coming from my house!! My mom was a HUGE Elvis fan.  Sure enough, we walk in my house and there's my mom literally balling her eyes out in the living room listening to REALLY LOUD Elvis music.  Again, I was so embarrassed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SkQ9oaJPo0I/AAAAAAAAA08/ckOpRN47w84/s1600-h/michael+jackson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SkQ9oaJPo0I/AAAAAAAAA08/ckOpRN47w84/s320/michael+jackson.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351470021645148994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;(this is the Michael Jackson I like to remember and love)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Obviously, Elvis's death was huge.  Just like today, Michael Jackson's death is huge.  For us, who grew up with Michael Jackson's music, it's as if a part of our childhood has died. It's the replaying of the videos of when Michael was young and with the Jackson 5 that makes me cry.  His voice, especially for that age, was just incredible.  And those songs were incredible.   I remember arguing with kids on the block (not the band, literally kids on our block) that the Jackson 5 was way better than the Osmond Brothers.  I did agree Donny was way cuter than any of the Jackson 5, but the Jackson 5 were way better talent wise.  That's because they had Michael Jackson.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;As time went on, Michael Jackson provided so many FUN memories, especially in my college days:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;The Thriller Video:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;  The first time I ever saw the Thriller video was at midnight at Dibbos in Hudson,      WI.  Everybody stopped dancing and just watched it.  It was just incredible!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Billy Jean:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;  Every song on that album and the Thriller album is awesome and gives me so many wonderfully fun memories of times when we were still innocent, and free, and YOUNG.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Michael's Moon Walk:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;  How on earth did he do that?  And no one could ever duplicate it the way he did it.  (so sad to write about him in the past tense)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;The Pepsi Commercial:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;  Here's something I haven't heard about today.  Remember when his hair caught fire filming the Pepsi commercial.  Now that was funny, but not really.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Anyway.... even though Michael Jackson ended up such a different person in the past years, his music and his videos, and all the work he has done for charities is timeless.  He is a legend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;*An interesting observation:  Elvis died when he was just 42.  My mom was 42, and I was entering 7th grade.  Now I'm 43 and my son is entering 6th grade.  I just find that interesting - the ages reflect what I had titled this post as -  Michael Jackson was the Elvis of our generation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-5644628069056954973?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/5644628069056954973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=5644628069056954973' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5644628069056954973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5644628069056954973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/06/michael-jacksons-death-is-like-elvis.html' title='Michael Jackson&apos;s Death is like Elvis Presley&apos;s Death for Our Generation'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SkQ3sn7JzsI/AAAAAAAAA00/uDrJCIeGgy8/s72-c/Elvis.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-5988507475520269526</id><published>2009-06-21T21:59:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T22:38:22.211-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><title type='text'>The Day Someone Stole My Silly Husband's Car</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sj7sx1Cx3nI/AAAAAAAAA0U/ivqlWZpmyOw/s1600-h/red+acura+integra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 143px; height: 107px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sj7sx1Cx3nI/AAAAAAAAA0U/ivqlWZpmyOw/s320/red+acura+integra.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349973748159209074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Before we had the kiddos, my silly hubby and I lived in an apartment.  We so loved that apartment - it was our first "home" together, it was in a great location, had two balconies, and life was just so happy there (I'm sure cause we were newlyweds!).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;One morning when my silly hubby left for work, he came running back in yelling that someone had stolen his car!  I looked outside - it wasn't out in the parking lot.  He called the police and reported the car stolen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;I drove my silly hubby to work, and by the time I came home there was a message on the answering machine from the police.  They had found the car!!  Wow!! I was so impressed that they had found it so fast.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Turns out it was in the Food Lion parking lot right next to our apartment complex.  The Food Lion was so close that we walked there all the time.  My silly hubby had stopped at the Food Lion the night before on his way home from work. He made his purchases and walked home!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-5988507475520269526?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/5988507475520269526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=5988507475520269526' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5988507475520269526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5988507475520269526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-someone-stole-my-silly-husbands-car.html' title='The Day Someone Stole My Silly Husband&apos;s Car'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sj7sx1Cx3nI/AAAAAAAAA0U/ivqlWZpmyOw/s72-c/red+acura+integra.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-7234788582995160645</id><published>2009-06-18T00:00:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T01:05:41.299-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brad'/><title type='text'>Hard To Believe It's Been Two Years - We Love And Miss You Brad</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;How did I keep myself calm and composed on what seemed like such a long drive to be there and to comfort my most dearest friend who had just lost her husband in a horrific fire? "I prayed for you the whole way down", said Monica.  "I knew you needed strength and safety in order to make it down to the firehouse in one piece."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually I keep the TV on in the kitchen, but for some reason, the night of Monday, June, 18, 2007, I was so busy upstairs that I didn't.  I came downstairs and flicked the TV on.  There was breaking news:  A fire at a furniture store in West Ashley.  It looked like the furniture store right around the corner from Heather and Brad's home.  It didn't look good, and they said "one man" was down.  I immediately called Heather to see if Brad was on duty and at that fire.  She had just heard of it and was waiting for the dispatcher at Brad's station to call her back.  She sounded so nervous and scared. There was a feeling, a power in the air, that made me uneasy. I knew something bad was happening.  I just didn't know how horrible it was going to get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, that's the dispatcher!!!", Heather yelled, "I'll call you right back."  By 11:15 there was no word from Heather, and the count of fallen firefighters was up to 3!  I was a nervous wreck.  I just knew Brad was one of them!  "What should I do?" I asked my husband.  "Call her back," he said.  Heather and Brad's 8 year-old daughter answered the phone.  She told me Heather was at the fire.  Dad was safe, and mom had gone up to see him.  She was so happy!!  After a few moments I told my husband that didn't sound right.  Something was wrong.  But I never heard anything else.  For some reason I was making home made hot pretzels that night.  Now who makes home made hot pretzels at that time of night?  Not a norm in our household.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pretzels were just coming out of the oven when the phone rang.  It was Heather!!!  But Heather wasn't on the other end!!  It was a different familiar voice.  "Is this Kristie?  Kristie Glascock?"  It was Monica's voice, and all my fears were confirmed.  Brad was gone!  "She wants YOU.", Monica said.  "I know this is hard, but you have to stay composed and stay strong for her."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was almost midnight.  The kids were still up, as they knew something very serious was going on with the fire on the TV.  I had to leave.  I had to make the hardest drive I have ever had to make in my whole entire life.  I had to drive down to my most dearest friend, really my sister, who had just lost her firefighter husband in the line of duty.  There were 3 of them gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to get gas.  After I got the gas I had to call my dad to help me make that drive down I-26.  My parents are in their seventies, they were already in bed.  My dad answered right away knowing that no one calls them that late at night.  "Dad!  There was a horrible fire down in West Ashley!  Three firefighters were killed!  One of them was Brad!"  "Oh my!!!", he said.  Now my dad has always loved Brad.  The first time my parents, and in fact my husband and I, had ever met Brad was when he and Heather came to the apartment to see our son after he was born.  I remember thinking that he wasn't what I was expecting Heather's husband to be.  He was a quiet, quiet guy - but over time I would realize that he was someone with so much knowledge in his head that he knew to be quiet and only speak what was worth being said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was pitch as black.  There were no cars on I-26 except a police car that rode next to me for a while and then sped away.  My dad talked to me the whole way down and kept me calm.  He kept talking about Brad, and he kept telling me how I had to be strong for Heather.  He told me God would make sure I made it there safely for Heather.  By the time I got to the Cosgrove exit, you could smell the fire/smoke in the air.  I told my dad that.  He cringed as he knew how far way that store was from where I was at.  The wind was carrying the stench of the fire over the Ashley River.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got off I-26, and again, there were no cars anywhere!  Amazingly, I was able to get right to Station 11 and park.  There were groups of people.  No one was my group.  I didn't recognize anyone.  I asked someone who looked official where Brad Baity's family was, and he lead me into the station.  There was Heather, on the couch crying and crying with someone.  I cannot remember who.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I walked in, Monica took me aside and told me that they had lost 9 firefighters!  NINE?!?!!??  What!?!?!?!?  That was unfathomable. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I went over to Heather.  All I could do was hold her and stroke her back and her hair.  There's nothing you can tell a woman who has lost the love of her life in such a quick instant.  I held on to her for dear life and didn't let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;To the families and friends of Capt. Benke, Capt. Hutchison, Earl Drayton, Louis Mulkey, Mark Kelsey, Melvin Champaigne, Michael French, and Brandon Thompson -- that night forever changed our lives and many of the lives of those that we love dearly.  The Charleston 9 will forever be in my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-7234788582995160645?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/7234788582995160645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=7234788582995160645' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/7234788582995160645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/7234788582995160645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/06/hard-to-believe-its-been-two-years-we.html' title='Hard To Believe It&apos;s Been Two Years - We Love And Miss You Brad'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-924050145813767973</id><published>2009-06-17T00:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T00:00:00.833-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='densel fly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wordless Wednesday'/><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday - Densel Fly On My Wall</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sjhjlp86yeI/AAAAAAAAAzk/TomjATXyZew/s1600-h/IMG_0231.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sjhjlp86yeI/AAAAAAAAAzk/TomjATXyZew/s320/IMG_0231.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348134056070138338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a target="_blank" href="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/links.php?owner=lilyl&amp;amp;postid=16Jun2009&amp;amp;meme=ww"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/graphic.php?owner=lilyl&amp;amp;postid=16Jun2009&amp;amp;meme=ww" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-924050145813767973?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/924050145813767973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=924050145813767973' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/924050145813767973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/924050145813767973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/06/wordless-wednesday-densel-fly-on-my.html' title='Wordless Wednesday - Densel Fly On My Wall'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sjhjlp86yeI/AAAAAAAAAzk/TomjATXyZew/s72-c/IMG_0231.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-8975820953325787207</id><published>2009-06-12T15:39:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T16:48:01.667-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='VGNO'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grease'/><title type='text'>Virtual Girls Night Out with The Pink Ladies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SjKvHb_5YAI/AAAAAAAAAzU/KCyAQSv3M_s/s1600-h/pink+ladies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 120px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SjKvHb_5YAI/AAAAAAAAAzU/KCyAQSv3M_s/s320/pink+ladies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346528249951903746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Head on over to &lt;a href="http://www.annagain66.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ann Again's&lt;/a&gt; and join us Pink Ladies (I'm Smokin' Molly) for a Virtual Girls Night Out.  This week Ann has us partying to Grease.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember that summer of 1978 when Grease hit the movie screens.  I think I paid to see it at least 13 times and each time sat through it two or three times in a row. Back then they'd let you stay and watch the next show.  The movie was that good.  You had to just keep watching it over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;All the girls were mesmerized by John Travolta as Danny Zucko.  But personally, I loved Kenicki! Ann is serving Pink Lady cocktails over at her place.  I will be serving Pink Lemonades - with vodka,of course.  Just mix equal parts pink lemonade and vodka (Absolute, makes it especially delish).  Fill up a chilled glass with lots of ice and your pink lemonade.  Mm mm.  It's so refreshing on this HOT, HOT summer evening!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is your favorite scene in Grease?  Mine is the Greased Lightning scene.  It's full of lots of hot guys doing lots of hot moves!!  Geez!  I need that Pink Lemonade!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-8975820953325787207?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/8975820953325787207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=8975820953325787207' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8975820953325787207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8975820953325787207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/06/virtual-girls-night-out-with-pink.html' title='Virtual Girls Night Out with The Pink Ladies'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SjKvHb_5YAI/AAAAAAAAAzU/KCyAQSv3M_s/s72-c/pink+ladies.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-5498333456107552567</id><published>2009-06-10T23:34:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T23:40:15.053-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dear Daughter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='color tv'/><title type='text'>The Days of Black and White</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SjB7VAZiohI/AAAAAAAAAy8/1qav-L4HmaA/s1600-h/black+and+white+tv.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 273px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SjB7VAZiohI/AAAAAAAAAy8/1qav-L4HmaA/s320/black+and+white+tv.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345908358503375378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tonight there was a TV show on that went to black and white footage for a little bit.  My 7 yr. old daughter piped up and asked:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Mom, back in the black and white days, was the sky still blue?".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I think that has to be the most precious question anyone has ever asked me.  And it got me to thinking - do kids really think that the real world used to be black and white before color movies and tv came around?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-5498333456107552567?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/5498333456107552567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=5498333456107552567' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5498333456107552567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5498333456107552567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/06/days-of-black-and-white.html' title='The Days of Black and White'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SjB7VAZiohI/AAAAAAAAAy8/1qav-L4HmaA/s72-c/black+and+white+tv.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-2616929701047115878</id><published>2009-06-02T20:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T20:46:52.622-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='newspaper'/><title type='text'>So Where Do You Buy A Newspaper?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SiXGEkkwPWI/AAAAAAAAAys/pr6p4ccFbTw/s1600-h/newspaper.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 106px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SiXGEkkwPWI/AAAAAAAAAys/pr6p4ccFbTw/s320/newspaper.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342894314784570722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Well I must live in the most brilliant of all neighborhoods.  Or maybe I should say I have the most brilliant neighbors.  I come home and there's a message on my voice mail from one of the mom's down the street.  Here it is transcribed verbatum:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Kristie - uh, Hannah has a a project she needs to do for school.  She needs a newspaper for it.  I was wondering if maybe you had one.  I thought out of anyone, you'd be the one to have a newspaper lying around.  I don't have one..... and..... actually..... uh ..I don't know how to buy one.  How do you get a newspaper?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm horrible.  I didn't even call back.  If the 7th grade kid of hers doesn't know that you can go to the gas station or grocery store to buy a newspaper, she deserves an F on that project anyway.  SO does the mom.  Heck!  They could steal it off our driveway tomorrow morning!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-2616929701047115878?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/2616929701047115878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=2616929701047115878' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2616929701047115878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2616929701047115878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/06/so-where-do-you-buy-newspaper.html' title='So Where Do You Buy A Newspaper?'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SiXGEkkwPWI/AAAAAAAAAys/pr6p4ccFbTw/s72-c/newspaper.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-2524017033808039332</id><published>2009-05-29T22:23:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T22:39:57.867-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kentucky Fried Chicken'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><title type='text'>I Want My Kentucky FRIED Chicken!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SiCY9btgUxI/AAAAAAAAAyk/7U8j5uSwvYE/s1600-h/kfc+logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 116px; height: 116px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SiCY9btgUxI/AAAAAAAAAyk/7U8j5uSwvYE/s320/kfc+logo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341437339239469842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;It was payday today.  Usually my silly hubby treats himself to a special lunch on payday.  He calls me from his truck after lunch in a bit of a rant.  No, more than a rant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;My Silly Hubby:  What happened to Kentucky Fried Chicken!?!?!? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Me:  I don't know.  Did it close?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;My Silly Hubby:  No!  But all they have is that rotten grilled chicken.  What happened to the fried chicken?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;(Ok, am I the chicken expert?  And how am I supposed to know what happened to Kentucky's Fried Chicken?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Me:  Uh, I don't know.  Don't they have fried chicken anymore?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;My Silly Hubby:  NO!!!!!  I went in and ordered my usual, and I got this rotten grilled chicken.  I told the lady I ordered the original recipe and didn't want the new grilled stuff.  She said they didn't have anything but the fried crap.  (Ok, that was in his words, not verbatim from her)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;I even looked - they had NO FRIED chicken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;(I actually felt bad for the guy cause I know he works hard, and I know how he loves his fried chicken.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Me:  So what'd you do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;My Silly Hubby:  Well I had the grilled chicken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Me:  Was it any good?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;My Silly Hubby:  NO!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Hm.....maybe he should have called 911 to report that Kentucky Fried Chicken had no fried chicken.  I'm sure that's what a few other nut cases would have done.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;FYI - Don't be alarmed, I'm sure KFC is still serving fried chicken.  I'm sure they were just out when my silly hubby arrived.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-2524017033808039332?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/2524017033808039332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=2524017033808039332' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2524017033808039332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2524017033808039332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-want-my-kentucky-fried-chicken.html' title='I Want My Kentucky FRIED Chicken!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SiCY9btgUxI/AAAAAAAAAyk/7U8j5uSwvYE/s72-c/kfc+logo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-8601992350590587268</id><published>2009-05-28T13:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T14:05:46.823-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ebay'/><title type='text'>Where Have I Been?  On ebay!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sh7QFgcyTYI/AAAAAAAAAyc/DdpoWZjJhvc/s1600-h/ebay.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 110px; height: 45px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sh7QFgcyTYI/AAAAAAAAAyc/DdpoWZjJhvc/s320/ebay.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340935001136582018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;So I'm sure many of you have been wondering "Where is she?".  Well I have finally discovered the fun of ebay.  Not sure yet if that is a good or bad thing, but I am hoping it is good.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Someone quickly gave me the advice of "Step away now! Save yourself".  She thought I was bidding on all the auctions.  But no - I'm selling.  I haven't had an auction close yet, but I already have bids!  I'm wondering if maybe I'm good at this, or just have beginners luck?  No, I'm sure it's more the fact that I have so much ridiculous stuff in my house that others would love to have.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;It'll be interesting to see by the end of the week how much money I have raked in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;If you are an ebay seller and have tips you'd like to share, please do.  I may keep up with this as I am having fun!  And I'm making money! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-8601992350590587268?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/8601992350590587268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=8601992350590587268' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8601992350590587268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8601992350590587268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/05/where-have-i-been-on-ebay.html' title='Where Have I Been?  On ebay!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sh7QFgcyTYI/AAAAAAAAAyc/DdpoWZjJhvc/s72-c/ebay.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1760962667854076484</id><published>2009-05-24T13:31:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T13:42:50.945-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Band of Brothers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HBO'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='WWII'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memorial Day'/><title type='text'>Learn More about Your WWII Veterans this Memorial Day Weekend - Watch Band of Brothers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ShmEkzbpGPI/AAAAAAAAAyM/mFm245Jscuk/s1600-h/band+of+brothers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 89px; height: 136px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ShmEkzbpGPI/AAAAAAAAAyM/mFm245Jscuk/s320/band+of+brothers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339444601040738546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I can not believe it has taken me 18 years to finally sit down and watch the HBO series Band of Brothers.  The History Channel was airing it last night and I sat down to watch the first episode.  I didn't get up (except for snacks) until I had watched the whole entire series!!  It was that good!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I must have cried through most of it.  It's incredible how they depicted the events of Easy Company and their trek through Europe during the war.  They started out on D-Day at Normandy and ended by liberating a concentration camp.  The events these men lived through (and the others died in) are incredible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;If you've never watched this, take the time to sit down and do so.  It will give you a completely chilling and different take on WWII.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Here's to ALL our veterans of ALL our wars on Memorial Day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;THANK&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;YOU!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1760962667854076484?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1760962667854076484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1760962667854076484' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1760962667854076484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1760962667854076484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/05/learn-bit-more-about-your-wwii-veterans.html' title='Learn More about Your WWII Veterans this Memorial Day Weekend - Watch Band of Brothers'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ShmEkzbpGPI/AAAAAAAAAyM/mFm245Jscuk/s72-c/band+of+brothers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-7759480681748449855</id><published>2009-05-20T23:12:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T23:49:52.507-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='American Idol'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rod Stewart'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kiss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Queen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kris Allen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adam Lambert'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cyndi Lauper'/><title type='text'>Kris Allen Wins - Best American Finale Ever!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I was and still am a huge Clay Aiken fan.  The Reuben Studdard and Clay Aiken American Idol Finale has always gone down as the best finale.  I really think the producers of American Idol did a fantastic job on the finale this season.  They had wonderful guest stars, and it was exciting the whole way through.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Here are what my highlights of the 2009 American Idol Finale were:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thought the gig with Kara and Katrina      was hysterical.  A bit like the Clay Aiken surprise at the 3rd finale, but Katrina         so deserved it.  And Katrina actually looked mad that Kara came out and stole the limelight from her.  And then when Kara sported her own bikini!  Too funny.   (I'll admit, I really didn't like Kara this whole season, but I have a little bit different perspective of her now.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So loved to see Cyndi Lauper with Allison.  Could have cared less about Allison, but was really impressed with Cyndi.  I've always loved her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ShTMuzhw7LI/AAAAAAAAAx0/PKCEIPCBRiU/s1600-h/cyndi+lauper.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 89px; height: 130px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ShTMuzhw7LI/AAAAAAAAAx0/PKCEIPCBRiU/s320/cyndi+lauper.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338116562818755762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;For you young uns, this is the Cyndi Lauper I know and love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;KISS totally rocked the house!!!  Now that was a nice surprise.  I was a huge KISS fan in Jr. High and have always loved their music.  It was nice to show my son who KISS was.  He kept asking, why are they dressed like that?  I told him, "Hey, they were smart.  They had their stage life and were able to lead a normal life off stage as no one knew what they looked like."  He is now trying to figure out what kind of makeup to dress up as for his band.  LOL  Heaven Forbid!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ShTM-Qkly3I/AAAAAAAAAx8/zIihhLsnjek/s1600-h/KISS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 92px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ShTM-Qkly3I/AAAAAAAAAx8/zIihhLsnjek/s320/KISS.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338116828313275250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Of course they had other greats on like Santana, and Rod Stewart, and Queen.   The night was just spectacular!  Although I'm not sure who let Queen Latifah wear that horendously tight outfit!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;But the best moment, of course was that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;KRIS ALLEN WON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ShTNQWYW8TI/AAAAAAAAAyE/7xyzD-br0ZA/s1600-h/kris+allen+winner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 96px; height: 123px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ShTNQWYW8TI/AAAAAAAAAyE/7xyzD-br0ZA/s320/kris+allen+winner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338117139110228274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Never would have expected that.  I've had him pegged all season.  Actually I've had every winner pegged all season except for Clay (who has gone down as one of the top American Idol stars).  I thought for sure Adam had won, but I think America really, really liked the wholesome spirit of Kris Allen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Way to Go Kris!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Congratulations!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-7759480681748449855?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/7759480681748449855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=7759480681748449855' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/7759480681748449855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/7759480681748449855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/05/kris-allen-wins-best-american-finale.html' title='Kris Allen Wins - Best American Finale Ever!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ShTMuzhw7LI/AAAAAAAAAx0/PKCEIPCBRiU/s72-c/cyndi+lauper.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1460306870673957447</id><published>2009-05-20T00:13:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T00:29:06.277-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wordless Wednesday'/><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday - This is What my Hubby and I Fight About</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ShODuxxsLsI/AAAAAAAAAxs/4oEiQ7AEDlk/s1600-h/oven+mit002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ShODuxxsLsI/AAAAAAAAAxs/4oEiQ7AEDlk/s320/oven+mit002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337754823023144642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I know this is supposed to be Wordless Wednesday, but you have to agree, that oven mitt above leaves you speechless (which is wordless), doesn't it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Please help solve the marital squabble:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Vote A:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  Display the God awful, ugly beast of an oven mitt in my beautiful  kitchen.  I don't care that my boy gave me it (hubby picked out) on my first Mother's Day when he was just 2 months old.  My son is now 11, and laughs cause it's so hideous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;or:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Vote B: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Keep it in the cabinet and keep the Queen of the Kitchen (who also feeds everyone) happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=lilyl&amp;amp;postid=19May2009&amp;amp;meme=ww"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1460306870673957447?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1460306870673957447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1460306870673957447' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1460306870673957447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1460306870673957447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/05/wordless-wednesday-this-is-what-my.html' title='Wordless Wednesday - This is What my Hubby and I Fight About'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ShODuxxsLsI/AAAAAAAAAxs/4oEiQ7AEDlk/s72-c/oven+mit002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-6823884479506843764</id><published>2009-05-18T23:14:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T23:45:12.423-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mailman'/><title type='text'>Hey Mr. Mailman, Are You Too Lazy To Deliver My Mail?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ShIko6xVuNI/AAAAAAAAAxk/aoogc6AYqO4/s1600-h/mail+truck.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 143px; height: 88px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ShIko6xVuNI/AAAAAAAAAxk/aoogc6AYqO4/s320/mail+truck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337368793777027282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mr Mailman,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Just because the garbage man left the garbage can in front of the driveway doesn't mean you DO NOT do your job and deliver my mail.  What?  Are you too lazy to put the truck in park and walk two steps to put the mail in the mailbox of the people for which others paid such high postage in order to get it to that box?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There are other mailmen who have to WALK their routes all day long.  You get to sit in your fancy truck and DRIVE.  Whatever happened to "Neither sleet, nor rain, nor snow will stop me".  Oh yea, garbage can wasn't in that saying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sincerely,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Non-Mail Recipient&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;*FYI, if a car is parked in our neighborhood or a garbage can is left by the garbage man, or a kid's bike, or a bird is anywhere within 6 or so feet of a mailbox - YOU WILL NOT GET YOUR MAIL!  I'll never forget the day my silly hubby had to chase the mailman down the block to get our mail.  Now THAT was funny!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-6823884479506843764?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/6823884479506843764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=6823884479506843764' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/6823884479506843764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/6823884479506843764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/05/hey-mr-mailman-are-you-too-lazy-to.html' title='Hey Mr. Mailman, Are You Too Lazy To Deliver My Mail?'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ShIko6xVuNI/AAAAAAAAAxk/aoogc6AYqO4/s72-c/mail+truck.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-2800199863997445873</id><published>2009-05-16T23:16:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T00:07:42.055-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='airplane passengers'/><title type='text'>Airplane Passengers - The Good, The Bad, The Really Cute, and The Real Gross</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sg-BzzaSxrI/AAAAAAAAAxM/4hHcYXT4xms/s1600-h/airplane+passenger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 102px; height: 109px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sg-BzzaSxrI/AAAAAAAAAxM/4hHcYXT4xms/s320/airplane+passenger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336626810431129266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We've all had them, those people who sit next to us on the plane that just about drive us nuts!  Like the guy above, who won't shut up, or the screaming baby in back of you.  The kid who keeps kicking your seat, or the gigantic person who takes up your whole seat too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I've had some good seat mates, and I have had some horrendous seat mates.  But my worst passenger experience was with just some other passenger on the plane.  I have no clue where his seat really was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So here's my best one.  I was flying out to visit some stupid guy for the weekend.  I was dumb and in college at the time.  I almost missed the flight due to the ignorance of the airline.  The real, real (and I mean REAL) cute guy in front of me was in the same predicament.  In order to catch the flight we had to RUN with our luggage to the plane.  Mr. Realcuteniceguy grabbed my luggage and his and we made a beeline for the plane.  Once on the plane, it ended up our seats were next to each other.  We talked and talked, and he was oh so perfect.  Then it was time to land and get off the plane.  Bummer. Oh well, I had Mr. Noshow pick me up at the airport.  How embarrassing!  The dummy never came to get me at the airport.  So..... I spent the whole weekend with Mr. Realcuterniceguy!!  (big smiley face)  Turns out he ended up getting a job by where I lived, and we had such a blissful summer together.  Now he was my BEST airplane seat mate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My WORST airplane passenger experience is the guy that I have no clue where he sat.  I was flying home with hubby and the two kids from my brother-in-laws funeral.  Our seats were right by the kitchen and the bathroom was right behind the kitchen.  Well some guy clearly needed to use the bathroom, but they were all being occupied.  Come on people!!  This guy really needed the bathroom!!  He never made it to the bathroom.  He ended up throwing up all over the kitchen and ME!!!  I've never seen that much throw up fly out of a person in my life.  And it splattered everywhere!!  Especially on ME!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So what are your good and bad experiences with your airplane seatmates or passengers?  Do share.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-2800199863997445873?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/2800199863997445873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=2800199863997445873' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2800199863997445873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2800199863997445873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/05/airplane-passengers-good-bad-really.html' title='Airplane Passengers - The Good, The Bad, The Really Cute, and The Real Gross'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sg-BzzaSxrI/AAAAAAAAAxM/4hHcYXT4xms/s72-c/airplane+passenger.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-23350592568437639</id><published>2009-05-15T18:36:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T19:20:09.879-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='licorice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Twizzlers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='VGNO'/><title type='text'>VGNO - Get Your Sugar Confection Here!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sg3vImpZcsI/AAAAAAAAAxE/LBwCHTiGeOw/s1600-h/cotton+candy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 137px; height: 103px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sg3vImpZcsI/AAAAAAAAAxE/LBwCHTiGeOw/s320/cotton+candy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336184064596079298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sg3vB7BYteI/AAAAAAAAAw8/2wPkyOXapIM/s1600-h/black+licorice.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 110px; height: 130px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sg3vB7BYteI/AAAAAAAAAw8/2wPkyOXapIM/s320/black+licorice.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336183949806319074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What do you get when you wrap cotton candy around a black licorice twist?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Lily's Licorice's Sugar Confection!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tonight's VGNO party game is The Sweet Candy Game.  If you'd like to have fun with us for VGNO head on over to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://annagain66.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ann Again's&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; and join the party!  Based on my first and last name I get to invent my own Sugar Confection. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm taking &lt;a href="http://www.hersheys.com/twizzlers/#"&gt;Twizzlers &lt;/a&gt;black licorice twists and wrapping pink cotton candy around them.  Blue for the boys, of course.  It's delicious!!  I think I'm going to have my daughter sell these at her lemonade stand next Saturday at our yard sale.  Oh!  And red licorice with blue cotton candy wrapped around it for the 4th of July will be spectacular!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Happy VGNO - I may be completely ill tomorrow from trying everyone's goodies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-23350592568437639?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/23350592568437639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=23350592568437639' title='35 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/23350592568437639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/23350592568437639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/05/vgno-get-your-sugar-confection-here.html' title='VGNO - Get Your Sugar Confection Here!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sg3vImpZcsI/AAAAAAAAAxE/LBwCHTiGeOw/s72-c/cotton+candy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>35</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-4099418445725491183</id><published>2009-05-13T21:17:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T15:01:41.387-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='UzzieMom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Twitter'/><title type='text'>Why I Love Twitter So Much</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.twitter.com/uzziemom"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 110px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgoqP4QQ3uI/AAAAAAAAAw0/O8wtPTUbXPw/s320/twitterbird.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335123160860778210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Every time I'm excited about something or come up with something new, my friends say "Oh, did you find that on Twitter?".  Twitter has become a joke in my circle of friends, yet I'm the only one who "twitters".  They have no clue what they are missing.  But can you keep a secret?  I kind of like that I'm the only one that twitters in the group.  It makes me feel like I have something of my own - my own little "Twitter World".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Here's something I have discovered.  I don't think I've really seen this on the reviews of why people twitter.  This is WHY I love to twitter, and I'm sure it's the real reason why others do too:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-You meet some really neat people - people just like yourself, who if you lived where they lived you know you'd be friends.  I have some twitter friends who I converse with quite frequently.  They come into my home each day, and I don't even have to clean!  I don't have to feed them either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Watching TV has never been so much fun.  Hubby LOATHES American Idol.  This season I've had the funnest American Idol season tweeting amongst other tweets as the show goes on.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.twitter.com/burgmom624"&gt;@burgmom624&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; knows I want Kris Allen to win, and I know she wants Adam Lambert to win.  We've pegged them to be in the final for weeks now.  So if it weren't for Twitter, I'd be watching American Idol by myself.  I'm sure you're all thinking to yourself "Well she is watching American Idol by herself", but it's different sharing it with twitter pals each week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-If I have a question - I go to twitter now.  Funny I twitter it before I google it now.  I get so many wise answers - especially from other moms.  After all, it is us moms who are the wise ones.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-  If you have a crisis going on - your twitter pals are there to back you up.  The night my son had been prescribed too much meds and was halucinating, it was                &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.twitter.com/lauratoogood"&gt;@lauratoogood&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.twitter.com/lauratoogood"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;who told me what to do and kept me calm while hubby was on the phone with the pharmacy.  FYI she was way faster at giving us info than getting in touch with the pharmacy.  Unlike the rat race I live in, people care about other tweets on twitter.  Twitter was abuzz that night with what was going on, and it was my twitter pals who wanted to know how my son was the next day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-I also found &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.twitter.com/paintermommy"&gt;@paintermommy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; on twitter.  She is the brilliant designer who did my blog header and button for my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.usborneactivities.blogspot.com/"&gt;Usborne Activities&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; blog.  What she did was so cool!  If you look at the header design she has my daughter actually painting her own penguin painting that she did.  At some point I'm going to have her spruce up Lily's Licorice a bit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So for all of you who think twitter is some dumb thing where you post your mindless thoughts in 140 characters or less, think twice about it.  Try it.  You just might like it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.twitter.com/uzziemom"&gt;If you'd like to follow me on twitter you can do so here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  I'm &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.twitter.com/uzziemom"&gt;UzzieMom&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; on twitter.  And if you'd like some decent tweets to start following besides the ones mentioned above, I recommend: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.twitter.com/ohmariana"&gt;@ohMariana&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.twitter.com/sugarkisses"&gt;@sugarkisses&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.twitter.com/haysdewy"&gt;@haysdewy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.twitter.com/mommy_grrl"&gt;@mommy_grrl&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.twitter.com/zrecsmom"&gt;@zrecsmom&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.twitter.com/chicmom"&gt;@chicmom&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.twitter.com/shalomcharlie"&gt;@shalomcharlie&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.twitter.com/dragonblogger"&gt;@dragonblogger&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.  The dragon blogger is a poet and he puts out tweets asking for one word and writes poems out of what is tweeted back. He's a brilliant writer/poet!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Come on and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.twitter.com/uzziemom"&gt;follow me&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-4099418445725491183?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/4099418445725491183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=4099418445725491183' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4099418445725491183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4099418445725491183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/05/why-i-love-twitter-so-much.html' title='Why I Love Twitter So Much'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgoqP4QQ3uI/AAAAAAAAAw0/O8wtPTUbXPw/s72-c/twitterbird.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1433066320773118906</id><published>2009-05-13T00:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T00:26:47.891-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wordless Wednesday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ponce Inlet Lighthouse'/><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday - Staircase at Ponce Inlet Lighthouse - Yes I Walked All The Way Up To The Top!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgYmOmwE8KI/AAAAAAAAAv8/Z0KD-iPTot4/s1600-h/IMG_0128.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgYmOmwE8KI/AAAAAAAAAv8/Z0KD-iPTot4/s320/IMG_0128.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333992841029152930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgYl7rsnndI/AAAAAAAAAv0/CrIXYadsih8/s1600-h/IMG_0117.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgYl7rsnndI/AAAAAAAAAv0/CrIXYadsih8/s320/IMG_0117.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333992515939311058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgYmOmwE8KI/AAAAAAAAAv8/Z0KD-iPTot4/s1600-h/IMG_0128.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgYmOmwE8KI/AAAAAAAAAv8/Z0KD-iPTot4/s320/IMG_0128.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333992841029152930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lighthouseratings.com/Ponce/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Here's More Info on the Ponce Inlet Lighthouse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=lilyl&amp;amp;postid=12May2009&amp;amp;meme=ww"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1433066320773118906?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.lighthouseratings.com/Ponce/' title='Wordless Wednesday - Staircase at Ponce Inlet Lighthouse - Yes I Walked All The Way Up To The Top!'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1433066320773118906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1433066320773118906' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1433066320773118906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1433066320773118906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/05/wordless-wednesday-staircase-at-ponce.html' title='Wordless Wednesday - Staircase at Ponce Inlet Lighthouse - Yes I Walked All The Way Up To The Top!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgYmOmwE8KI/AAAAAAAAAv8/Z0KD-iPTot4/s72-c/IMG_0128.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-8128841775143444370</id><published>2009-05-11T20:09:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T22:30:12.147-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iCarly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spaghetti Tacos'/><title type='text'>Spaghetti Tacos - Lily's Way</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sgi-ZHGjcYI/AAAAAAAAAwk/2usMEALjljw/s1600-h/spaghetti+taco.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sgi-ZHGjcYI/AAAAAAAAAwk/2usMEALjljw/s320/spaghetti+taco.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334723097232896386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I thought my son had come up with a brilliant idea today.  I was making spaghetti for dinner, and there was a box of taco shells on the counter.  He jumped up and down and exclaimed "We can make spaghetti tacos!".  I thought he was brilliant.  Turns out they make spaghetti tacos on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.icarly.com/"&gt;iCarly&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, but hey, I had never heard of them before.  I have no clue how they make them on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.icarly.com/"&gt; iCarly&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, but here's how we made them.  They turned out quite interesting, yet surprisingly delicious!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Spaghetti Tacos- Lily's Way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cook your spaghetti sauce and noodles the way you usually do.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mix the noodles and sauce together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Spoon into hard taco shells.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Top with shredded parmesan or mozarella cheese.  (Personally, I liked it better with the mozarella cheese.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Whallaa!!!  You have your spaghetti taco (which is way better than a fish taco - yick!).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-8128841775143444370?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/8128841775143444370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=8128841775143444370' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8128841775143444370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8128841775143444370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/05/spaghetti-tacos-lilys-way.html' title='Spaghetti Tacos - Lily&apos;s Way'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sgi-ZHGjcYI/AAAAAAAAAwk/2usMEALjljw/s72-c/spaghetti+taco.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-2231634986419652312</id><published>2009-05-09T00:14:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T12:38:30.298-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Mighty Flea'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cricket'/><title type='text'>The Mighty Flea vs. The Cricket</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgWwXCOppOI/AAAAAAAAAvk/qi7wqvus90U/s1600-h/cricket.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 135px; height: 102px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgWwXCOppOI/AAAAAAAAAvk/qi7wqvus90U/s320/cricket.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333863243472020706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgWv7QMMmKI/AAAAAAAAAvc/9XbrU03ZPFM/s1600-h/ferocious+flea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 84px; height: 84px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgWv7QMMmKI/AAAAAAAAAvc/9XbrU03ZPFM/s320/ferocious+flea.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333862766183487650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hubby spent many years in the US Coast Guard.  The guys nicknamed him The Mighty Flea for a very good reason.  He's small in stature, yet very strong.  You'd be amazed what this little guy can do!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Last night there was a cricket chirping outside my daughter's bedroom window.  She came in complaining about how this cricket was keeping her up.  Now I don't know what it is about crickets in South Carolina, but they are THE LOUDEST in the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I remember another night where there was a cricket chirping really loud out her window.  My daughter, myself, and even my son were up all night with that dang cricket.  According to my son, the cricket is just looking for his mate.  Well he doesn't need to keep me up all night looking for a mate.  I have mine sound asleep in my bed.  Cause as you all know - WWIII could be happening outside our bedroom window, yet hubby would NEVER wake up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Well I have to tell you ... there was a time when something would wake my silly hubby up.  Back before we had kids and lived in "the apartment" there was this goofy cricket who would chirp outside our bedroom window each night.  One night he was exceptionally LOUD!!!  All of a sudden hubby threw off the covers and ran out of the bedroom.  Well I thought he was going to the bathroom.  All of a sudden I hear all this racket out the bedroom window.  "Take that!  You stupid cricket!!"  There was hubby out on the deck, yelling at the cricket with pots of hot water that he was throwing on the poor cricket.  (I'm crying laughing just remembering)  It took LOTS of pots of hot water to shut that beautiful cricket up.  Hubby was a mad man!  Yelling and throwing water at the area where the cricket was chirping from.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Finally we no longer heard the poor cricket chirp.  Clearly he had been drowned by the pots of hot water.  So sad.  But all I could think about was --- SLEEP.  So we went to bed.  And then...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;CHIRP!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-2231634986419652312?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/2231634986419652312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=2231634986419652312' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2231634986419652312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2231634986419652312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/05/mighty-flea-vs-cricket.html' title='The Mighty Flea vs. The Cricket'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgWwXCOppOI/AAAAAAAAAvk/qi7wqvus90U/s72-c/cricket.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-3197204666129241264</id><published>2009-05-08T13:42:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T14:18:14.124-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drink Recipes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='VGNO'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wardrobe Malfuntion'/><title type='text'>Thank God It's Friday!  Thank God for Virtual Girls Night Out!  This Week - Wardrobe Malfuntion Edition</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgRvdTEtjZI/AAAAAAAAAvU/fiMKY6T7Trs/s1600-h/bellini+drnk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 87px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgRvdTEtjZI/AAAAAAAAAvU/fiMKY6T7Trs/s320/bellini+drnk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333510407840435602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ah, it's Friday again, and time for another evening of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.annagain66.blogspot.com/"&gt;VGNO&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.  Join us please!  Hop on over to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.annagain66.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ann Again's &lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and sign yourself up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ann is serving Mom-osas which sound absolutely delicious.  Once I saw her recipe I knew I had to have Bellini's for this evening. It's been SO hot, and I'm trying so hard NOT to turn the air on.  These are just the perfect thing to cool me down.    I'll have to wait for the festivities til AFTER I get my daughter from gymnastics.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I was first introduced to these Bellini's when I went to visit my college roommates.  We had such a fun evening in a tiny little hole in the wall bar in the middle of a corn field.  I couldn't begin to tell you how many we had.  All I know was that Tammy could no longer speak properly (although she never really makes much sense anyway lol), and we were up all night going to the bathroom from all that juice, and ice, and champagne!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I don't know the real recipe to a Bellini, but here's how I make mine.  It's my staple drink on New Year's Eve too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fill up a champagne glass with ice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fill with equal parts Champagne, Peach Schnapps, and OJ.  The OJ usually ends up becoming a splash at the end.  As the night wears on the OJ ends up staying in the fridge.  Mix and enjoy!!!  A fresh peach slice would be a nice added touch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wardrobe Malfuntion Edition:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  We're supposed to mention a time we did something utterly embarrassing like leaving our shirt tucked into our underwear.  Hm... I always do embarassing things.  I do have two wardrobe malfuntions to share with you tonight.  One is my mom's - just so you know where I get my goofiness from.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1.  In high school I had these overalls that zipped in the back.  Who has pants that zip in the back?  So I never would remember to zip those pants up.  Thus I was showing my cute (plain white) undies for the whole high school to see.  There was one nice gal who would always come up in back of me, whisper in my ear, "You forgot to zip your pants again", and zip them for me.  How embarrassing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2.  My mother was maid of honor at her sister's wedding.  This was back in the 50's.  Her fancy satin dress had a big bow in the back with two long strands of material coming off the bow.  Silly mom decided she better go to the bathroom right before they started down the aisle.  She forgot about the long strands of satin and they went right in the toilet along with everything else!!!  She had no clue and walked down the aisle for all to see the wet, icky strands of satin!  Too funny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do share about your own wardrobe malfuntions.  And have a Happy VGNO!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-3197204666129241264?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3197204666129241264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=3197204666129241264' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3197204666129241264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3197204666129241264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/05/thanks-god-its-friday-thank-god-for.html' title='Thank God It&apos;s Friday!  Thank God for Virtual Girls Night Out!  This Week - Wardrobe Malfuntion Edition'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgRvdTEtjZI/AAAAAAAAAvU/fiMKY6T7Trs/s72-c/bellini+drnk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-2674107059065981108</id><published>2009-05-06T22:09:00.020-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T23:48:25.787-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='American Idol'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='award'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kris Allen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blog give away'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>What A Great Day I Had Today!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgJO3BU8laI/AAAAAAAAAus/EGAHQBg5Tww/s1600-h/bday+cake+with+candles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 105px; height: 139px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgJO3BU8laI/AAAAAAAAAus/EGAHQBg5Tww/s320/bday+cake+with+candles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332911615916152226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's my dear friend Sherry's birthday today!  Everyone wish her a belated birthday as this post won't really hit til the day after.  So Happy Birthday Sherry!!!  She's the ripe old age that I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So it's Sherry's birthday, but somehow I ended up having such an absolutely fabulous day!  I hope my birthday will be as good for her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;First I woke up to a wonderful award from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.hangingwithmrsacooper.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mrs. Cooper&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgJK9PlynII/AAAAAAAAAuU/kzlFTaZw2-w/s1600-h/Mrs.+Cooper.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 125px; height: 125px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgJK9PlynII/AAAAAAAAAuU/kzlFTaZw2-w/s320/Mrs.+Cooper.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332907324777602178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's the One Lovely Blog Award.  The kids are so proud.  At least someone is proud of me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgJPGZeXENI/AAAAAAAAAu0/3xxFQgQO_uk/s1600-h/One+Lovely+Blog+Award.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgJPGZeXENI/AAAAAAAAAu0/3xxFQgQO_uk/s320/One+Lovely+Blog+Award.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332911880096125138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm so tickled to get another award.  I'm sure Lily is too.  I'll go get her a bone tomorrow to celebrate.  Anyway, I'm supposed to pass the award along to some new blogs, that are NEW to me. Blogs I have recently discovered during my never ending blog clicking.  Here is that list of new blogs to me that I think are pretty neat.  I certainly don't want to hog them all for myself, so I will share them with you.  Here goes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.fiveflowermom.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.monimania.blogspot.com/"&gt;Black Olives On My Fingertips&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.fiveflowermom.blogspot.com/"&gt;Five Flower Mom&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.frogsinmyformula.blogspot.com/"&gt;Frogs In My Formula&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.sahmsue.com/"&gt;SAHMSue&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.annagain66.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ann Again&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.  Ann Again and her VGNO has spruced up my Friday evenings!!  I get to be the life of the party again, just like in the old days!  Thanks Ann!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;If you're on this list, grab your award, link to who gave you the award (muwa) and pass it along to those newly discovered fantastic blogs that you love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Then I took my son (only 11) in for his root canal. We finally got it all taken care of today. He was such a man!!  I am so proud of him!  You'd never know he even had any dental work done, let alone a root canal!  I remember when my silly hubby got a root canal and he was not this up to par.  Son - you did so good today!!! So I award you this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgJXsP-gx0I/AAAAAAAAAvE/X4BgOiLWcPk/s1600-h/great+patient.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgJXsP-gx0I/AAAAAAAAAvE/X4BgOiLWcPk/s320/great+patient.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332921326474676034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Then I had a nice rest of the day planting flowers with my daughter.  And then found out there is lots of interest in my Summer Read-A-Thon.  If you'd like for your kids to read this summer for pledges and earn some free books for themselves, let me know, I'll send you the info on it.  Email me at kristie@usborneactivities.com or post your email in the comment section here.   This is a great way for home schoolers to build up some great curriculum for the upcoming school year too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Then Kris Allen made it through to the final three on American Idol.  I just love him.  Love his style, his talent, and he actually looks a lot like my silly hubby, so I think I'm a bit partial.  Ok, he looks a lot like my silly hubby did back when he was Kris's age.  Although hubby has aged well.  Much better than I have.  And my silly hubby sings to me with those same dreamy eyes!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgJQxJi2YCI/AAAAAAAAAu8/8lhuQ3FD3iw/s1600-h/kris+allen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 92px; height: 135px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgJQxJi2YCI/AAAAAAAAAu8/8lhuQ3FD3iw/s320/kris+allen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332913714065989666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Then last but not least!!!  I won the exact thing that I wanted to win on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.banteringblonde.com/"&gt;The Bantering Blonde's&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;100th post blog give away!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgJLeR_k1FI/AAAAAAAAAuc/PmZY_1I1qLU/s1600-h/bantering+blonde.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 125px; height: 125px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgJLeR_k1FI/AAAAAAAAAuc/PmZY_1I1qLU/s320/bantering+blonde.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332907892358304850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Whooo Hoooo!  I never win anything and if I might say so myself - I so deserve it!  I'm already planning a wonderful party for Lily's Licorice's 1st Birthday, so stay tuned.  It's not til August, but I like to plan ahead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hope you all had a glorious day too!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-2674107059065981108?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/2674107059065981108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=2674107059065981108' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2674107059065981108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2674107059065981108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-great-day-i-had-today.html' title='What A Great Day I Had Today!!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SgJO3BU8laI/AAAAAAAAAus/EGAHQBg5Tww/s72-c/bday+cake+with+candles.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-6897545566083271793</id><published>2009-05-06T00:00:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T08:15:26.672-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lily'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wordless Wednesday'/><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday - Sleeping Lily:  This is When Lily is So Sweet and DOESN'T Eat My Stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sf-m2LsziSI/AAAAAAAAAt0/UrYNoZi8mHg/s1600-h/IMG_0098.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sf-m2LsziSI/AAAAAAAAAt0/UrYNoZi8mHg/s320/IMG_0098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332163933613820194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And yes, this is the real Lily of Lily's Licorice fame.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=lilyl&amp;amp;postid=05May2009&amp;amp;meme=ww"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=lilyl&amp;amp;postid=05May2009&amp;amp;meme=ww"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-6897545566083271793?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/6897545566083271793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=6897545566083271793' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/6897545566083271793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/6897545566083271793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/05/wordless-wednesday-sleepling-lily-this.html' title='Wordless Wednesday - Sleeping Lily:  This is When Lily is So Sweet and DOESN&apos;T Eat My Stuff'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sf-m2LsziSI/AAAAAAAAAt0/UrYNoZi8mHg/s72-c/IMG_0098.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-4453364318009904329</id><published>2009-05-03T15:56:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:23:51.831-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny names'/><title type='text'>Parents! THINK Before You Name Your Kids!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There are so many kids in this world that have to suffer their whole life because their parents just do not THINK before they put the oh so important name on their kid's birth certificate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Here are some names of real people that I have known in my life:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;Mary Cox&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; - I went to high school with not one, but two girls named Mary Cox.  The boys had a field day with them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;Jim Shu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; - just plain dumb, but of course he wasn't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;Tim Burr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -  you always knew when he was walking down the hall at school cause you'd here "tiiiimmmmmbbbeeeerrrrrrrrrrrr"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;Rose Dick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; - our study hall teacher in high school.  Goodness did she get the rude comments, especially from the rotten boys.  (I guess her parents aren't at fault for her name.  She is the one who married a Dick.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This is the worst one:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;Harrison Richard Hunter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.  Very cute guy in college, but unfortunately his name meant Harry Dick Hunter.  No one could quite get over that.  Especially the girls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do share what goofy named people you've known in your life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-4453364318009904329?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/4453364318009904329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=4453364318009904329' title='145 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4453364318009904329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4453364318009904329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/05/parents-think-before-you-name-your-kids.html' title='Parents! THINK Before You Name Your Kids!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>145</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1824284083882722293</id><published>2009-04-30T21:42:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T22:42:28.505-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rotten drivers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food Lion'/><title type='text'>What Do You Do When A Pregnant Women Is Crossing In Front Of You In A Parking Lot?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SfpdcRE26KI/AAAAAAAAAtc/ESBP43OZvmE/s1600-h/angry+man+in+car+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 121px; height: 124px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SfpdcRE26KI/AAAAAAAAAtc/ESBP43OZvmE/s320/angry+man+in+car+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330675849147902114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You swerve around the car in front of you and just about hit her husband.  Yea!  That's what you do!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ok, well, that's what you're NOT supposed to do, but the idiot in back of me in the Food Lion parking lot today did just that!  I couldn't believe it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Here I am stopped because this very pregnant lady was crossing in the path in front of me to enter the store.  It was quite obvious she was pregnant, because she looked like she was about ready to give birth at any moment.  Her hubby was following behind her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Well Mr. Jerkinbackofme, who was oh so impatient, decides he just can't wait anymore and starts wailing on his horn and was yelling and waving his arms (I could see all that from my rear view mirror).  Then Mr. Jerkinbackofme swerved around my car still yelling at me.  Now he's looking right at me yelling instead of looking ahead in order to see that he is about to plow the husband right over.  So I start yelling at him that people are there!  So he has to slam his breaks on!  (Gee - can you feel my blood boiling!?!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Geez people.  If the car in front of you is stopped - they are probably stopped for a very good reason.  I don't just sit in the aisle of a parking lot for no reason!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Here's  a previous LL post about more rotten and rude drivers:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/01/please-dont-flip-me-off-whne-my-kids.html"&gt;Please Don't Flip Me Off When My Kid's Are In The Car.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1824284083882722293?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1824284083882722293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1824284083882722293' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1824284083882722293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1824284083882722293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-do-you-do-when-pregnant-women-is.html' title='What Do You Do When A Pregnant Women Is Crossing In Front Of You In A Parking Lot?'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SfpdcRE26KI/AAAAAAAAAtc/ESBP43OZvmE/s72-c/angry+man+in+car+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-5827117602048220096</id><published>2009-04-29T22:02:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T22:44:27.835-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Home Schooling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Swine Flu'/><title type='text'>At Least the Home Schoolers will Still Be in School During the Swine Flu Outbreak</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SfkHgf5m7yI/AAAAAAAAAtU/470ZzijrptI/s1600-h/no+swine+flu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 116px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SfkHgf5m7yI/AAAAAAAAAtU/470ZzijrptI/s320/no+swine+flu.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330299888870027042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;One thing I am very thankful for with hearing the reports of this swine flu epidemic - WE HOME SCHOOL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;At least I don't have to worry about my kids hanging out with 700+ other kids each day passing germs around from Lord knows where.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Also, schools are closing all over the place.  Newberry Academy in South Carolina is closed because they have suspected cases.  Ten kids from that school just got back from a trip to Mexico and are exhibiting symptoms.  The &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.nbcdfw.com/health/topics/More-N-Texas-School-Close-Due-to-Swine-Flu.html"&gt;Forth Worth, TX ISD&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; has closed all their schools til May 11th.  Schools are closed in CA and MN, and schools are closed nationwide in Mexico.   The list of school closings grow by the hour.  At least our kids are still able to have school each day.  And they are able to have school without the threat of contracting the virus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Although, believe it or not, home schoolers are very social people and we go out and do things with lots of other people.  Most home school kids hang out with lots of other kids throughout the day and at weekly activities.  So in all actuality home school parents need to be just as precausiois about the Swine Flu as those parents whose kids attend public or private schools.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So with that in mind, here are tips I'm doing with my family.  They are also steps that the CDC is recommending.  Hubby thinks I'm nuts, but it's worth the precautions.  I found the following on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.kivitv.com/Global/story.asp?S=10270764"&gt;Kivitv.com.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"How can I protect myself from swine flu?&lt;br /&gt;You can reduce your risk of swine flu the same way you prevent seasonal flu. Follow these six steps:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;color:#000000;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;1. Wash your hands properly:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;color:#000000;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;  &lt;li&gt;Wet your hands with warm water and apply soap.   &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rub your hands together for 20 seconds, or about the time it takes to sing the "Happy Birthday" song twice. Make sure to get between your fingers and underneath your nails. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rinse hands with water.   &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dry hands using a disposable paper towel. Turn off the faucet and open the door to the restroom using the paper towel as a barrier. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;color:#000000;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Wash your hands &lt;i&gt;before&lt;/i&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;color:#000000;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" type="disc"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;  &lt;li&gt;Preparing food   &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Eating   &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Caring for someone who is sick &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;color:#000000;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Wash your hands &lt;i&gt;after&lt;/i&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;color:#000000;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" type="disc"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;  &lt;li&gt;Coughing, sneezing or blowing your nose   &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Using the bathroom   &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Changing diapers   &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Caring for someone who is ill   &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Touching an animal or animal waste   &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Taking out the garbage &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;color:#000000;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Use an alcohol-based hand sanitizer when soap and running water is unavailable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;color:#000000;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;2. Cover your nose and mouth with a tissue when you sneeze or cough. Then throw the tissue away. If a tissue is not available, cough or sneeze into your hands and wash your hands right away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;color:#000000;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;3. Do not touch your eyes, nose or mouth. This is how germs are spread and how you can get sick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;color:#000000;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;4. Avoid contact with sick people. You have more of a chance of getting sick if you are around people who are ill.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;color:#000000;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;5. Consider a facemask. If you live in an area where swine flu has been identified and can't avoid crowded settings or close contact with others, the CDC suggests the use of a facemask.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;color:#000000;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;6. Have healthy habits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;color:#000000;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" type="disc"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;  &lt;li&gt;Sleep seven to eight hours each night.   &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Exercise regularly.   &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Try not to stress.   &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Drink plenty of water.   &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Eat a healthy diet."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.momsworld.com/questions/2009/04/swine-flu-at-school"&gt;Momsworld.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; has a neat survey about the Swine Flu and your kids at school.   If your child is exhibiting symptoms DON'T send them to school.  DON'T send them to day care.  Even Barack Obama today urged employers to be lenient with parents who need to stay home with sick kids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Again, I think we all are susceptible to the same germs.  It only takes being in the wrong place with the wrong person (someone with the GERM) one time, and for a very short time, to contract the illness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Be Safe!  Wash Your Hands!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-5827117602048220096?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/5827117602048220096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=5827117602048220096' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5827117602048220096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5827117602048220096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/04/at-least-home-schoolers-will-still-be.html' title='At Least the Home Schoolers will Still Be in School During the Swine Flu Outbreak'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SfkHgf5m7yI/AAAAAAAAAtU/470ZzijrptI/s72-c/no+swine+flu.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-7163030286713871316</id><published>2009-04-29T00:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T00:00:00.156-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wordless Wednesday'/><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday - Hubby's Favorite Fishing Hole</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SfKJK5qCehI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/UMWJ42F0_Ew/s1600-h/fishing+in+pothole.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SfKJK5qCehI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/UMWJ42F0_Ew/s320/fishing+in+pothole.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328472129501559314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=lilyl&amp;amp;postid=28Apr2009&amp;amp;meme=ww"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-7163030286713871316?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/7163030286713871316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=7163030286713871316' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/7163030286713871316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/7163030286713871316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/04/wordless-wednesday-hubbys-favorite.html' title='Wordless Wednesday - Hubby&apos;s Favorite Fishing Hole'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SfKJK5qCehI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/UMWJ42F0_Ew/s72-c/fishing+in+pothole.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-6394485475350521340</id><published>2009-04-26T11:00:00.017-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T14:26:52.492-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Usborne Books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><title type='text'>Please Help Me Send My Silly Hubby To Hawaii!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SfSSxzQZwRI/AAAAAAAAAsY/usYEMkPURP0/s1600-h/hawaii.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SfSSxzQZwRI/AAAAAAAAAsY/usYEMkPURP0/s320/hawaii.1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329045643356389650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Not sure if you all know, I am a supervisor with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.ubah.com/c2264"&gt;Usborne Books and More&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.  They just announced the new travel incentive trip - a 7 Day Cruise to 5 Hawaiian Islands!  Now hubby has SO been wanting to go to Hawaii.  By reading the posts about my silly husband, I'm sure you all can agree - &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;This Guy Needs a Nice Vacation!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's so simple to help send my silly hubby to Hawaii.  And you know what you get just for helping out?!? FREE Usborne Books for your kids.  Yes that's right - FREE books for your kids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Three ways to help:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1.  Host an online E-show.  This is a great way to earn LOTS of FREE books.  Register for an e-show, then send it out to all your friends and family.  You earn FREE books based on the amount of sales for your show.  It's very simple.  No cleaning the house, no cooking, just send an email.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.ubah.com/ecommerce/earnbooks.asp?sid=C2264&amp;amp;gid=76716772&amp;amp;emkt=22"&gt;Register for an E-show here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2.  Join My Team!  I'd love to have you on my team.  You could earn the trip to Hawaii for your hubby too.  What fun that would be!  You can also earn some decent income and build that home library.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.ubah.com/ecommerce/opportunity.asp?sid=C2264&amp;amp;gid=76716772&amp;amp;emkt=22"&gt;Here's more info on the Usborne Books business opportunity.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Purchase Usborne Books for your kids, grandkids, nieces or nephews. They make great birthday presents for kids too. If your order is 85.00 or more, you start earning FREE books. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.ubah.com/c2264"&gt;Purchase books here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;If you have any questions, please email me at kglasusb@yahoo.com.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thanks for helping! Can you imagine the silly stories I will have for Lily's Licorice after he spends a whole week in Hawaii!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;*available to U.S. residents only&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-6394485475350521340?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/6394485475350521340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=6394485475350521340' title='63 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/6394485475350521340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/6394485475350521340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/04/please-help-me-send-my-silly-hubby-to.html' title='Please Help Me Send My Silly Hubby To Hawaii!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SfSSxzQZwRI/AAAAAAAAAsY/usYEMkPURP0/s72-c/hawaii.1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>63</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1014967701046590477</id><published>2009-04-24T00:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T09:13:44.480-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='VGNO'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Karene&apos;s Kitchen'/><title type='text'>Scrambled Eggs That Are Sure To Cure Any Hangover!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SfEwpt7H1MI/AAAAAAAAAsI/jQubK6qtjzw/s1600-h/scrambles+eggs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SfEwpt7H1MI/AAAAAAAAAsI/jQubK6qtjzw/s320/scrambles+eggs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328093327416349890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;I purchased a delightful cookbook published back in 1953 at our local Timrod Library sale this fall. I just love it! It's amazing how they cooked everything with alcohol back then. Women must not have had much else to do, if you know what I mean.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;For those of you who will be left with a hangover tomorrow morning after &lt;a href="http://annagain66.blogspot.com/"&gt;VGNO&lt;/a&gt; here are some eggs that are supposed to fix it for you. Sure wish I knew about this back in college.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;"Often on Sunday morning comes the problem of the HANGOVER. The medical profession offers no solution other than the completely unacceptable one of not drinking at all. Bartenders have done better on this problem -- at least in giving a temporary lift to sagging spirits. There is no solution. But eggs in beer offer a glimmer of hope --and they will get your eyes open if you drink the beer with them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;2 eggs&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 bottle of beer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;(I prefer Bud Light)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;Celery salt, pepper and tabasco to taste&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Place 3/4 cup of beer and seasoning in an individual bowl. Bring to a boil in a 450 degree oven. Drop in the eggs. Do not stir. Cook in the oven for 6 to 7 minutes. Serve while very hot and stir the eggs at the table. Serve the remainder of the bottle of beer with the eggs. Serves 1."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;Cited from The Dorn Cook Book,Henry Begnery Company, Chicago, IL, 1953 pg. 63 -64. Also republished from &lt;a href="http://www.kareneskitchen.blogspot.com"&gt;Karene's Kitchen&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1014967701046590477?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1014967701046590477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1014967701046590477' title='34 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1014967701046590477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1014967701046590477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/04/scrambled-eggs-that-are-sure-to-cure.html' title='Scrambled Eggs That Are Sure To Cure Any Hangover!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SfEwpt7H1MI/AAAAAAAAAsI/jQubK6qtjzw/s72-c/scrambles+eggs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>34</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-4804991528944183747</id><published>2009-04-22T10:47:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T10:50:13.224-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Week of the Young Child'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Painting'/><title type='text'>Week of the Young Child - Paint with Your Child.  Tips to Keep Painting a Fun and Clean Experience for your Kids and for You.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Se8uMyx6WsI/AAAAAAAAAr4/dNDP2oNCZa4/s1600-h/messy+kid+painting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 98px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Se8uMyx6WsI/AAAAAAAAAr4/dNDP2oNCZa4/s320/messy+kid+painting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327527681527012034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So many kids do not get to paint at home because the messy paint is too stressful for some moms. Kids LOVE to paint. I feel so bad for kids who tell me, "My mom won't let me paint." Those kids are missing out on such wonderful creative experience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I leave the paints out on a shelf at kid level for my kids. They can grab the paints any time they wish and paint away. I love the paintings I have on my walls, all painted by my own artists. Creativity flows in this household. How on earth am I not afraid to keep the paints out for my kids to use? I taught them early on about how to paint properly, and how to have fun with it, without making a mess. And people who know me know I am not an anal person. I am not a clean freak. And I certainly don't pressure the kids to be either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So what can you do to help your kids have a clean - free painting experience?  Here are my tips:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Put down newspaper or paper on the table or floor. My daughter loves to paint on the floor. I do have a vinyl cloth for her to paint on. When she uses her easel, we put the easel on it too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. Make sure you have a fresh cup or two of water to put the brushes in to clean them off. Have the kids dab the wet brushes on paper towel to clean off left over color and excess water.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3.  Use one color at a time:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  a.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;For younger kids&lt;/span&gt; - have them paint with one color. Then let that color dry. Get the next color out. Have that color dry. This way you don't have a bunch of paint out at one time, and by letting each color dry, their painting comes out looking the way they envisioned instead of one giant blob of brown ick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Put just a dollop of paint on a piece of paper for your child to dip his/her brush into. If they are allowed to dip their brush into the big bottle of paint, they will end up with way too much paint on the brush - hence how big paint messes are created.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  b.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;For older kids&lt;/span&gt; - let them put a "little" bit of different colors of paint on a paint palette. A little bit of paint goes a long way. Make sure they clean their brushes as they change colors.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. Each of my kids has a painting shirt. They use the same shirt every time they paint. This way, mom, you don't have to worry about paint getting on that new shirt you just bought. The kids like their paint shirts too because it shows all the paints and different colors they have used.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5. Wash your paint brushes with soap and water when done. Let them dry before you put them away. If you keep them in a cup, store them with the brush tips facing up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Happy Painting!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-4804991528944183747?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/4804991528944183747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=4804991528944183747' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4804991528944183747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4804991528944183747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/04/week-of-young-child-paint-with-your.html' title='Week of the Young Child - Paint with Your Child.  Tips to Keep Painting a Fun and Clean Experience for your Kids and for You.'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Se8uMyx6WsI/AAAAAAAAAr4/dNDP2oNCZa4/s72-c/messy+kid+painting.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-5000150195751403997</id><published>2009-04-20T19:04:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T19:09:57.316-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lemonade Stand'/><title type='text'>How Do You Spell Lemonade?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sez_9VPMTII/AAAAAAAAArw/s0AbkLqzRKk/s1600-h/lemonade001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sez_9VPMTII/AAAAAAAAArw/s0AbkLqzRKk/s320/lemonade001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326913888410422402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The sign my silly hubby made for our daughter's lemonade stand this past weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-5000150195751403997?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/5000150195751403997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=5000150195751403997' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5000150195751403997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5000150195751403997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/04/how-do-you-spell-lemonade.html' title='How Do You Spell Lemonade?'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sez_9VPMTII/AAAAAAAAArw/s0AbkLqzRKk/s72-c/lemonade001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-775600562700521981</id><published>2009-04-19T00:46:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T01:37:34.833-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sandwiches'/><title type='text'>The Sandwich Incident - What I Won't Do For My Hubby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Seq22bZ4SII/AAAAAAAAAro/Auk7rOKnL2I/s1600-h/italian+sandwich.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 84px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Seq22bZ4SII/AAAAAAAAAro/Auk7rOKnL2I/s320/italian+sandwich.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326270555504527490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When hubby got home from work today he wanted an Italian sub from a particular grocery store we have here.  The wonderful wife I am, I went out immediately to go get it for him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When I got there, I was so thrilled that there was NO line at the deli counter.  Usually it takes awhile to get your sandwich if there's a line.  So I stood there.  And I stood there.  AND I stood there.  AND I STOOD there.  AND I STOOD THERE!  Three employees were in the back doing everything but helping, mwua-the customer.  I couldn't take it anymore.  So I piped up (which is something I would not usually do -- believe it or not - I'm very shy) and said, "Excuse me.  Can someone help me?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dumb Employee:  No we're busy.  You might want to come back in 10 - 15 minutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Little ol' nice me:  Ok.  I'll go do the rest of my shopping and then come back.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm sure you're all laughing at me thinking "boy is she a pushover."  But I gave them the benefit of the doubt.  Although, I'm sorry, one of those three certainly could have helped a customer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So I do my shopping and go back to the deli.  Of course now there is a line!  That's ok, I waited patiently.  The numbscle in front of me had to order a Philly Cheese Steak so it took Ms. Slowpoke a real long time to cook his sandwich.  It was crazy!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Still, I waited patiently.  She finally got smart and decided to start on my sandwiches while his cooked.  So she made mine fine.  Then we get to hubby's.  First she started to put it on wheat bread.  I NEVER order wheat bread.  She had to argue with me, and insisted that I said wheat.  Uh, no I didn't.  Then she got the meat out for hubby's Italian sandwich.  There was mustard all over it!  It came out of the fridge that way.  Clearly it was from some other sandwich she had screwed up on earlier.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Little ol' nice me:  Uh, can I have fresh meat on that sandwich.  That meat has mustard all over it, and there isn't mustard on Italian sandwiches.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dumb Employee:  Well what's wrong with mustard?  It's just a little.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Little ol' nice me:  Are you kidding me?  Why was all that mustard on the meat?  Where did it come from?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dumb Employee:  You don't want mustard?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Little ol' nice me:  No, he just wants oil and vinegar on it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dumb Employee:  Do you want new meat?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Little ol' nice me:  Yes.  That would be nice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dumb employee:  Do you want new meat?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Little ol' nice me:  Yes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dumb employee:  Are you sure you want new meat?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Little ol me:  OMG! Yes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So she finally gets the new meat.  Ugh!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Then she goes and finishes the Philly Cheese Steak for the guy in front of me.  She used a big knife to make sure all the grease, beef, cheese, fried onions, and peppers stayed on the sandwich.  Then she placed it in the sandwich to help it close and then used it to cut the sandwich.  So by the time she was done with that knife, it was a MESS full of grease, beef, melted cheese, onions and peppers.  She gives Mr. Guy Infrontofme his sandwich.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Then she goes to cut my dear hubby's sandwich with that knife!  That nice Italian sandwhich with just Italian meat and oil and vinegar was about to be assaulted by grease, beef, cheese, onions, and peppers.  Hubby had worked hard all day today.  I wanted him to have a nice, clean sandwich to eat.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Little ol' nice me:  Can you use a clean knife to cut that sandwich.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dumb Employee:  DEAR IN HEAD LIGHTS STARE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Little ol' nice me:  Can you just get a clean knife to use to cut that sandwich.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dumb Employee:  No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Little ol' me:  What?  That knife is filthy.  I'd like you to use a clean knife.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dumb Employee:  There's nothing wrong with this knife.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Little ol' me:  Yes, there is.  It's filthy with all the stuff from the other sandwich.  I just want you to cut my sandwich with a clean knife.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dumb Employee:  DEAR IN HEADLIGHTS STARE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ol' Me:  You're not going to get a clean knife?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dumb Employee:  NO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Big Me:  Well then forget it!  I don't want your dirty food!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I was so ticked off!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So I left and went to the lunchmeat counter so I could just buy the lunchmeat and make his sandwich for him myself.  Well then I got to thinking - what on earth is on an Italian sandwich besides salami?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Well that did it!  I'm not one to complain, and I'm not one to go tattle on employees, but I wanted that dang sandwich for my hubby.  I was bound and determined to get it for him.  So I went up front and asked for the manager.  I explained the situation very nicely and asked him if he'd go get me the sandwich.  All I wanted was the sandwich.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He was so nice!  (hence the reason why I am not divulging the name of the store) He took my sandwich order, and went and made it himself.  He was furious about the non clean knife incident.  And hubby was thrilled he got a free sandwich.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-775600562700521981?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/775600562700521981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=775600562700521981' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/775600562700521981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/775600562700521981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/04/sandwich-incident.html' title='The Sandwich Incident - What I Won&apos;t Do For My Hubby'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Seq22bZ4SII/AAAAAAAAAro/Auk7rOKnL2I/s72-c/italian+sandwich.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-7324244386462035285</id><published>2009-04-18T10:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T13:28:04.919-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Karene&apos;s Kitchen'/><title type='text'>A Lotta Bloggy House Keeping - Karene's Kitchen Moves to Lily's LIcorice</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sdyzm-3XfFI/AAAAAAAAAp4/_CJK7M28ob4/s1600-h/kk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 81px; height: 110px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sdyzm-3XfFI/AAAAAAAAAp4/_CJK7M28ob4/s320/kk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322326341936708690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;After much thought, I have decided that I need to merge my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.kareneskitchen.blogspot.com/"&gt;Karene's Kitchen&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; blog into Lily's Licorice.  It's just too taxing trying to keep up with both while still keeping track of my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.usborneactivities.blogspot.com/"&gt;Usborne Activities for Kids&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; blog, home school, run a business, keep my dear hubby out of trouble with his escapades, and clean up after this crazy dog!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So what does this mean for Karene's Kitchen readers?  You will still find all the great tips, cooking, cleaning, recipes and whatnot that you found on Karene's Kitchen.  I so loved all that I wrote on there, and will transfer some of those posts onto Lily's Licorice every so often.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What does this mean for Lily's Licorice readers?  You will get to learn all sorts of good tips and recipes with a Lily's Licorice twist.  Don't worry, this isn't turning into a kitchen blog.  Karene's Kitchen is full of some good reminiscent times.   My mom is also full of crazy stories like my silly hubby's.  No wonder they get along so well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So with that let's all welcome Karene into the crazy mix of Lily's Licorice!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-7324244386462035285?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/7324244386462035285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=7324244386462035285' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/7324244386462035285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/7324244386462035285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/04/lotta-bloggy-house-keeping-karenes.html' title='A Lotta Bloggy House Keeping - Karene&apos;s Kitchen Moves to Lily&apos;s LIcorice'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sdyzm-3XfFI/AAAAAAAAAp4/_CJK7M28ob4/s72-c/kk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1063481038892547601</id><published>2009-04-16T00:19:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T00:42:00.389-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dear Daughter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Giggles'/><title type='text'>I Got the Giggles at the Wrong Time!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SeaO_CSIjoI/AAAAAAAAArY/C0Qjlhzv7EM/s1600-h/fat+chick+in+tight+clothes.htm"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SeaO_CSIjoI/AAAAAAAAArY/C0Qjlhzv7EM/s320/fat+chick+in+tight+clothes.htm" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325100823008022146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I made the mistake of taking my 7 yr old daughter with to the grocery store today.  While checking out, I could feel her tapping on my arm.  I looked up and there she was giggling and pointing at the lady in the next checkout line!  Mind you, the lady just about looked and was dressed like the lady above, but still.  I was mortified!  I whispered to her to stop pointing and told her it wasn't nice to laugh.  Well she had the giggles so bad she couldn't stop.  And you know what happens when someone has the giggles.  They are contagious!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;That reminds me of a wedding I went to once.  The bride's cousin sang.  Obviously she was asked to sing because she was the cousin, not because of her beautiful voice and singing talent.  Not sure I've ever heard anyone SO BAD!  I was trying so hard to keep my composure.  Unfortunately there were two 12 yr old girls sitting in front of me.  Well they got the giggles.  I just couldn't help it.  I got the giggles too!  Then the people next to me and in back of me got the giggles.  Then it spread throughout the church!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; share with us.  Tell us all when you got the giggles at the wrong time.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1063481038892547601?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1063481038892547601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1063481038892547601' title='28 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1063481038892547601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1063481038892547601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-got-giggles-at-wrong-time.html' title='I Got the Giggles at the Wrong Time!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SeaO_CSIjoI/AAAAAAAAArY/C0Qjlhzv7EM/s72-c/fat+chick+in+tight+clothes.htm' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>28</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-4429474344880094573</id><published>2009-04-15T00:11:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T00:48:59.849-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wordless Wednesday'/><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday - Oops! Look What Happens When My Hubby Is The Captain of the Ship.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SeVnJux1gtI/AAAAAAAAArI/L-OzyxcqoAc/s1600-h/boat+Oops.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 296px; height: 222px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SeVnJux1gtI/AAAAAAAAArI/L-OzyxcqoAc/s320/boat+Oops.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324775551309021906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=lilyl&amp;amp;postid=14Apr2009&amp;amp;meme=ww"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=lilyl&amp;amp;postid=14Apr2009&amp;amp;meme=ww"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-4429474344880094573?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/4429474344880094573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=4429474344880094573' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4429474344880094573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4429474344880094573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/04/wordless-wednesday-oops.html' title='Wordless Wednesday - Oops! Look What Happens When My Hubby Is The Captain of the Ship.'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SeVnJux1gtI/AAAAAAAAArI/L-OzyxcqoAc/s72-c/boat+Oops.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-8662321832324804510</id><published>2009-04-12T13:06:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T12:36:40.412-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shakespeare'/><title type='text'>Shakespeare's Insults</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SeIpv-On1GI/AAAAAAAAAqY/MFiGpW_YN9Q/s1600-h/shakespeare.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 102px; height: 138px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SeIpv-On1GI/AAAAAAAAAqY/MFiGpW_YN9Q/s320/shakespeare.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323863613640266850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;One of my hubby's favorite books is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt; Shakespeare's Insults ~Educating  Your Wit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;. There are some very amusing quotes in there.  They get really funny when one of hubby's friends comes over and they share a little too much vino and cigars on the back porch.  Those two can sit there and quote all these insane Shakespearean quotes.  You really should join us out there some evening, it's quite entertaining.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Here are some of their favorites that fly on the back porch every so frequently:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"He has not so much brain as ear-wax." &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Troilus and Cressida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Uh, yes I do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Twelfth Night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"We know each other well, and long to know each other worse."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Troilus and Cressida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"You're a fusty nut, with no kernel." &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Troilus and Cressida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"You are as loathsome as a toad."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Titus Andronicus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Not all the whips of heaven are large enough for you." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Timon of Athens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"If I hope well, I'll never see thee more." &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Timon of Athens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"You are a small grey-coated gnat." &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Romeo and Juliet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 255);"&gt;Hubby's nick name is the Mighty Flea, so the guys laugh and laugh over this one.  They are just plain goofy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Oh teach me how I should forget to think."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Romeo and Juliet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;I think they already have forgotten how to think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I must discontinue your company."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Much Ado About Nothing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Yep, that's what their ramblings are about - NOTHING!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"You candle-wasters!"  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Much Ado About Nothing&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Hm... I guess that would have been like telling someone they were not conserving energy back then?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Henry VI&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Ha!  They wanted to get rid of all the lawyers even back then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Eat My Leek." &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Henry V&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I can't take it anymore!  I'm sure you can't either.  So sorry to have bored you with this drivel.  But at least you get a taste of some of Shakespeare's Insults and what I have to put up with over here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ok, lay the insults on!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Shakespeare's Insults-Educating Your Wit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, Wayne F. Hill &amp;amp; Cynthia J. Ottchen, MainSail Press, CA, 1991.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-8662321832324804510?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/8662321832324804510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=8662321832324804510' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8662321832324804510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8662321832324804510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/04/shakespeares-insults.html' title='Shakespeare&apos;s Insults'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SeIpv-On1GI/AAAAAAAAAqY/MFiGpW_YN9Q/s72-c/shakespeare.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-9197693478143994657</id><published>2009-04-11T12:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T12:09:25.819-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Easter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>Look What the Easter Bunny Did to My Dog!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SeC--BsCV2I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/nOGmIcNm6aU/s1600-h/easter002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SeC--BsCV2I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/nOGmIcNm6aU/s320/easter002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323464732366231394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This is my favorite Easter photo of all time.  I was such a mean mom and instead of getting my son an Easter Rabbit for his basket one year, I got him this adorable Easter Basset.  We had a basset and I couldn't resist this adorable stuffed dog with rabbit ears for my son.  I thought it was cute!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So Easter morning, out comes my son to see what the Easter Bunny had brought.  Above is the response we got.  That boy cried and cried and cried!  He thought the Easter Bunny had turned his precious dog into a stuffed dog with rabbit ears.  It was one of the funniest things I had ever seen!  (I'm such a nice, caring mom, aren't I?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dad had to go wake the real dog out of a deep sleep to come show our dear son that NO he had not been turned into a stuffed dog with rabbit ears. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-9197693478143994657?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/9197693478143994657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=9197693478143994657' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/9197693478143994657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/9197693478143994657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/04/look-what-easter-bunny-did-to-my-dog.html' title='Look What the Easter Bunny Did to My Dog!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SeC--BsCV2I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/nOGmIcNm6aU/s72-c/easter002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-2567825270942593805</id><published>2009-04-09T20:06:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T21:24:40.753-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><title type='text'>My Silly Husband Spent the Day on the Roof</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sd6NuzAGPtI/AAAAAAAAAqI/m1iaJOICnec/s1600-h/dadart002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 309px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sd6NuzAGPtI/AAAAAAAAAqI/m1iaJOICnec/s320/dadart002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322847644702621394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My husband was drawing with my daughter the other night.  This is one of his masterpieces from that evening.  The more I looked at it I realized he had depicted himself on the roof, my son in the tree, and myself and my daughter in the kitchen window.  As soon as I noticed him on the roof in the picture, I immediately was reminded of a very funny incident that my silly hubby pulled.  Of course, it's silly - what else would you, my readers, expect from him!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hubby was home during the day on a weekday.  My son had lost "Stripey", his stuffed cat that he liked to throw around.  Stripey had ended up on the roof of our house, go figure.   Our house was fairly new back then, and we had yet to get a ladder.  So hubby shimmied up the post of the front porch to jump up onto the roof.  He rescued Stripey, and threw him down to my son.   Then it was time for hubby to get down.  Well, now that he was all the way up on the roof he realized how high that roof really was!  With no ladder, he wasn't getting down, and he couldn't get back to the post to shimmy back down it.  I was laughing my petuti off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ding-a-ling told me to go find a neighbor whose ladder we could borrow.  Turns out that EVERYONE works during the week in our neighborhood.  Even the moms.  NO ONE was home.  All kids were at school too.  There was no live person to be found.  So hubby sat on that roof all afternoon until Mr. Dale came home from work.  Oh, was Mr. Dale laughing his petuti off as well!  Luckily Mr. Dale had a ladder for my dear, sweet, silly hubby to use to get down off that roof.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-2567825270942593805?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/2567825270942593805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=2567825270942593805' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2567825270942593805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2567825270942593805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-silly-husband-spent-day-on-roof.html' title='My Silly Husband Spent the Day on the Roof'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sd6NuzAGPtI/AAAAAAAAAqI/m1iaJOICnec/s72-c/dadart002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-4315895200998093451</id><published>2009-04-07T10:23:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T11:22:07.641-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cell Phone Etiquette 101'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Restaurants'/><title type='text'>Cell Phone Usage 101</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SdtsrSy2uSI/AAAAAAAAApw/wiBmD1QYhAI/s1600-h/cell+phone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 87px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SdtsrSy2uSI/AAAAAAAAApw/wiBmD1QYhAI/s320/cell+phone.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321966875703687458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;I so wish restaurants would make you check your cell phone in at the front desk before the host or hostess seats you.  Some restaurants make you wear a tie and jacket and will provide those if you show up without one.  So restaurants certainly could provide a basket for everyone to place their cell phone in while eating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;Could you imagine the noise in the "phone room" with all those cell phones ringing.  Hey, here's a new job for people.  Someone could actually sit there and take messages for all those important calls that everyone gets while they are in the restaurant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;Cell Phone Receptionist (CPR):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;  Hello, this is Mrs. Oliver's cell phone, how can I help you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;Mrs. Shuller:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;  Uh, who is this? Holly, is that you?  What are you doing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;CPR:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;  This is the Cell Phone Receptionist at the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" href="http://www.pumproom.com"&gt;Pump Room&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;.  Mrs. Oliver is currently eating Cedar Plank Roasted Salmon.  Is there something you needed her for? Is this an emergency?  I can take a message and give it too her promptly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;Mrs. Shuller:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;  Oh please do!  I'm at Macy's and I need to know if I should buy this sweater in fuschia, white, or melon.  She always knows what color looks good on me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;This is the kind of crap I get to listen to every time I go out to eat.  It's never an emergency on the other end, and it's always just nonsensical babble about NOTHING!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;The other night hubby and I went to a Chinese buffet for dinner.  This nutty woman was actually dishing up her plate at the buffet while talking on her cell phone.  They need to put a sign next to the "Children Need to Be Accompanies by a Parent" sign - "Please Do Not Talk On Cell Phone While Dishing Up Dinner".  Her conversation was just so interesting.  All about what to put in the kids Easter baskets.  Now that's an emergency.  Ok, if it were the Saturday before Easter, maybe.  Anyway,  it's very hard not to eaves drop. You try so hard to tune it out, but people tend to talk way louder on their cell phones so it's hard not to hear it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;Another thing, when you are on your cell phone, it's like other people don't exist around you.  This lady at the Chinese buffet stood there with the spoon for the sweet and sour pork in her hand for I don't know how long.  And I wanted some of that sweet and sour pork!  I was about ready to put that cell phone of hers in that sweet and sour pork!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;I sat down and it was my hubby that started talking about it.  Then we noticed 8, yes 8 people in the restaurant were on their cell phones.  One poor lady literally ate dinner by herself while her hubby conversed on his phone the whole time they were there.  And no, that was not me.  My hubby would never do that to me - he went out to dinner with ME, not with his cell phone friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;One last observation.  I see so many mom's out eating with their kids.  Many of moms spend the whole time talking on the phone instead of conversing with her child.  I so want to ask that child to sit with us so they have someone paying attention to them.  Moms!  When you are out at a restaurant with your kids, it is a primo time to spend time with them and teach them something and find out a little about your kids.  Goodness!  Do you know how bored that kid is listening to how great a manicure you got at Lucious Nails.  Spend some quality time with your kiddos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;Ok, that's my stump speech for the day.  Remember, when you are out at a restaurant, I don't care if it's McDonalds or the Pump Room, please forget about the cell phone.  Unless the person you are eating with is choking and you need to call 911-then by all means dial up that cell phone.  But if you are on your cell phone and your dinner partner is not choking, you are not only being rude to your dinner guest(s), but you are also being rude to all the people around you in the restaurant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;Hang it up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-4315895200998093451?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/4315895200998093451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=4315895200998093451' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4315895200998093451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4315895200998093451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/04/cell-phone-usage-101.html' title='Cell Phone Usage 101'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SdtsrSy2uSI/AAAAAAAAApw/wiBmD1QYhAI/s72-c/cell+phone.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-2723031847641647291</id><published>2009-04-01T19:23:00.016-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T21:16:28.697-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Coronor'/><title type='text'>My First Date with the Coroner</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SdQQsLmqw5I/AAAAAAAAApg/ZzdLoJPbXd0/s1600-h/red+siren.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 86px; height: 130px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SdQQsLmqw5I/AAAAAAAAApg/ZzdLoJPbXd0/s320/red+siren.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319895411046663058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I dated this guy for a while who was quite a character.  He was his own Forest Gump.  He was a paramedic, very into politics, owned a whole street of Main St. in his little town.  He rented out apartments, was part of the historical society, you name it he did it.  He even owned a liquor store.  Some how he ended up the coronor of the county too.  (The town finally made him sell the liquor store - conflict of interest)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I didn't know he had all these distinguished qualities before I went out on that first date with him.  All I knew was he was cute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So he picks me up for that first date.  We're driving on the highway and all of a sudden a loud NERWWWRRRRWWWWRRR goes off in his car.  It was so dang loud!!  Then there was all this crackling talking on the radio, scccrrwwwcssshhhsrewsc.  Next thing I know we have a red light and a siren going on top of the car, and we are speeding down the highway!  "Hang on!", he yells "Some guy just had a heart attack."  And why the big rush?, I was wondering.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We get to the point of the heart attack. I guess the poor guy was sunning himself in the hot summer sun and died right there in the chair.  Had been gone for part of the afternoon til someone noticed.  Again, poor guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So Mr. Coronor leaves me in his car, and when he gets back he has a little styrofome cooler with big red markings and the word EYES on it.  I had to ride back with him with the dead guy's eye balls in the car!  I swear this is no joke.  It was such a small town, this guy was probably the dr. too and I didn't know it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We dated off and on for quite some time, but every date was such an escapade with him.  I knew life would end up silly and lonely if I married him.  Good thing I didn't.  Look at all I would have missed out on with my silly hubby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-2723031847641647291?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/2723031847641647291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=2723031847641647291' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2723031847641647291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2723031847641647291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-first-date-with-coroner.html' title='My First Date with the Coroner'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SdQQsLmqw5I/AAAAAAAAApg/ZzdLoJPbXd0/s72-c/red+siren.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-2179686119110096147</id><published>2009-03-30T19:02:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T19:15:55.995-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lawn Mowers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><title type='text'>Lawn Mowers, Lawn Mowers, and More Lawn Mowers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SdFP1azV1AI/AAAAAAAAApQ/f-1yGqKpOzQ/s1600-h/lawn+mower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 121px; height: 121px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SdFP1azV1AI/AAAAAAAAApQ/f-1yGqKpOzQ/s320/lawn+mower.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319120414047589378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's that time of year again.  The grass is starting to grow, and the grass needs a trim.  Our neighbor mowed his yard this week, so of course, now we need to.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So last week I kept telling my hubby, "Get the lawn mower out for me and see if you can fix it so I can mow the lawn."  He insisted it worked just fine.  Well, I knew better.  I knew that the thing wouldn't start right last year, cause I remember having to pay some guy to mow the yard last fall!  "It works, it works fine," he kept insisting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So Sunday he gets the lawn mower out.  He was going to be nice and mow the yard himself.  Ha!!  What do you know - it wouldn't start.  The cord doesn't move!  Nada! Nothing!  The thing don't work!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I don't know how long a typical lawn mower is supposed to last.  I do know that my dad has the same lawn mower he had back from when I was a kid.  My friend claims her hubby bought theirs in 1991.  Hm, 1991 was 18 years ago right?  We've lived in this house 11 years, and we are on our 5th, yes 5th lawn mower!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Can you sense the frustration?  I want to go out and get myself one of those "green" lawn cutters that just cut the grass with no electric and no gas.  I could just tool around the yard whenever I wanted, and our yard would be looking nice all the time.  I just don't have the strength to pull that cord on those gas mowers to get it started.  Plus I don't like the gas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hubby thinks I'm nuts to want a "green" grass cutter.  I think it'd be neat.  I don't think I'd let him lay a hand on it either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-2179686119110096147?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/2179686119110096147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=2179686119110096147' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2179686119110096147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2179686119110096147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/03/lawn-mowers-lawn-mowers-and-more-lawn.html' title='Lawn Mowers, Lawn Mowers, and More Lawn Mowers'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SdFP1azV1AI/AAAAAAAAApQ/f-1yGqKpOzQ/s72-c/lawn+mower.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1267835510077549657</id><published>2009-03-29T18:25:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T18:35:04.796-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yes Ma&apos;am'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sleepover'/><title type='text'>Yes Ma'am</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman; color: rgb(102, 255, 153);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's amazing how those two words, "Yes Ma'am", can send two boys into a hysterical fit of nonsense for hours!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Last night my son had a friend spend the night.  While getting ready for bed, my son's friend was very polite in answering back to my hubby.  "Yes Ma'am", he said.  When he realized what he had said, he was in uncontrollable laughter for 45 minutes.  Then there was no hope of getting those two boys to bed cause they just could not get over the "Yes Ma'am".  Everything was "Yes Ma'am", "Yes Ma'am".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So funny how two quite silly little words can make two boys' night an evening I'm sure they will never forget.  We won't either - we got NO sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1267835510077549657?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1267835510077549657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1267835510077549657' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1267835510077549657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1267835510077549657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/03/yes-maam.html' title='Yes Ma&apos;am'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-3512545481986895571</id><published>2009-03-25T21:03:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T13:40:43.504-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Violent Femmes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Happy Birthday'/><title type='text'>What a Difference 11 Years Make</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Scu5RZNtS4I/AAAAAAAAAoo/eT2cSmnOnYI/s1600-h/11th+bday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 98px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Scu5RZNtS4I/AAAAAAAAAoo/eT2cSmnOnYI/s320/11th+bday.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317547493518297986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Well today is my son's 11th birthday.  Happy Birthday dear boy!  As I think about this momentous day, I can't help but think of that very day, 11 years ago.  My silly hubby and I both always agree that is was the funnest day of our lives.  Here's a look back - it's funny to think how things have changed so drastically since then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Early in the evening of the 25th of March, my contractions were really close together.  We called the dr.,  and went to the hospital as directed.  There at the hospital, we were told we could stay or go home and rest for a while and come back in the morning.  This was at 1 am.  The fools we were decided, "heck lets go home"!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So we go home.  I stay up, wide awake on the couch with contractions.  You know what my silly hubby did!  We went to bed!  Well at least that's one thing that hasn't changed!  When WWIII breaks out, he will miss it, cause he will sleep right through it - even if it is in our back yard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So I stayed up and who lays on the couch with me with his head nestled on my tummy but my dear sweet dog.  NO! Not crazy Lily (of Lily's Licorice fame), but my sweet beagal/basset.  Saddest part of how things have changed in 11 years is that he is no longer with us.  Now I've got this Crazy Horse!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;By 6 am it was time to get back to that hospital.  Our birthing class instructor gave us utterly ridiculous instructions about what to take to the hospital.  Or maybe we just took her too literally.  Who knows.  All I know is we brought WAY too much stuff.  FYI new parents about ready to give birth:   Just go to the hospital.  You don't need anything!  Here is just some of what we brought with:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1.  2 Pillows.  Heaven forbid you use the ones at the hospital!  Birthing instructor said it'd make you more comfy.  Bah!  Drugs are the only thing that is going to make you comfy that day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2.  CD Player with 10 CDs.  You will want to listen to music you like, said the birthing instructor.  You don't want music at that time!  Who hired this lady anyway!  Oh right, the hospital!  Anyway,  I only wanted to bring one CD.  The &lt;a href="http://www.vfemmes.com/"&gt;Violent Femmes&lt;/a&gt;.  Yes, my child was going to be born into this world with Gordon of the Violent Femmes serenading him!  Hubby hates the Femmes, hence the reason why 9 other CDs were brought along too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3.  Stuffed Animal of my dog.  This was the soothing item we were to bring along per the birthing intructor.  Sorry lady, my hubby was the soothing item I needed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4.  New Nightgown, New Robe, and New Slippers.  The mamma has to look good. For who?  The baby that won't remember?  The doctors?  The nurses?  I didn't need to look good for my hubby.  I probably looked the worst I ever did that day, yet he couldn't have loved me any more than he did that day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5.  Books and magazines.  You will need something to do.  We had books, magazines, crossword puzzles.  It was ridiculous.  What time did we have to read and do puzzles?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I think we brought way more stuff, but it never came out of the 3 duffle bags we brought so I can't remember what the other crap was.  All I know is my silly hubby got ticked off cause the nurse yelled at him to clean up the room!  Too funny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Anyway, it's been 11 glorious years with this child.  We now live in a house, I listen to talk radio instead of the Femmes (still love them though), we have another child, I have a different business, we are older, yet we are still very much the same and still very much in love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-3512545481986895571?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3512545481986895571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=3512545481986895571' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3512545481986895571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3512545481986895571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-difference-11-years-make.html' title='What a Difference 11 Years Make'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Scu5RZNtS4I/AAAAAAAAAoo/eT2cSmnOnYI/s72-c/11th+bday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-4871460091829649850</id><published>2009-03-24T14:50:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T15:50:00.971-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Home Schooling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Math'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>The Case of the Missing Math Homework</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sckrhr_KG7I/AAAAAAAAAog/vTUeMx7YwQc/s1600-h/invisible+ink.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 97px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sckrhr_KG7I/AAAAAAAAAog/vTUeMx7YwQc/s320/invisible+ink.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316828692830886834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;My dear son pulled a fast one on me today.  He claimed he did all his math work.  I knew he didn't as I had heard no fussing coming out of his mouth.  So he sat in the kitchen supposedly doing all his work.  Then he got up and said, "Ok, I'm done.  You gonna check it?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;There was not one thing on the page!  Boy did I fuss!  He insisted and insisted he had done all the work.  Yea, right! The pages were blank with no answers to any equation.  I was about ready to have a heart attack with all his nonsense - then he pulled out a little light.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;There were all his answers (only one wrong) written in invisible ink!  I so wanted to smack that boy, but had to chuckle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-4871460091829649850?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/4871460091829649850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=4871460091829649850' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4871460091829649850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4871460091829649850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/03/case-of-missing-math-homework.html' title='The Case of the Missing Math Homework'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Sckrhr_KG7I/AAAAAAAAAog/vTUeMx7YwQc/s72-c/invisible+ink.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-3274084963254806928</id><published>2009-03-23T13:51:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T18:28:55.492-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Six Degrees of Randomness'/><title type='text'>Six Degrees of Randomness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Scf_LrOz65I/AAAAAAAAAoQ/HtOnGGwjLYc/s1600-h/six.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 135px; height: 90px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Scf_LrOz65I/AAAAAAAAAoQ/HtOnGGwjLYc/s320/six.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316498461182651282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My buddy Amanda from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://movingforward-amanda.blogspot.com/"&gt;Moving Forward&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; tagged me only about 19 days ago!  I think this is her way of making me keep Lily's Licorice alive.  I have to admit I've been so insanely busy with Em's meet season, that poor Lily's Licorice ended up a bit neglected.  Luckily the real Lily didn't! I'm still here, and thank you to all of you who have "begged" for more goofy posts.  I'm glad I can brighten up some people's days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So for Six Degrees of Randomness I am supposed to do the following:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;*Link to the person who tagged me: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://movingforward-amanda.blogspot.com/"&gt;Amanda&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;*Post these rules&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;*List 6 Random things about myself:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1.  I'd rather be happy than have lots of money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2.  I'm very sentimental (as you can tell by my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.kareneskitchen.blogspot.com/"&gt;Karene's Kitchen&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; blog - which also needs some extra love from me right now!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3.  I gave up a successful business to do my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.ubah.com/c2264"&gt;Usborne Books&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; business - it's even more fun and way less stressful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4.  I married the most amazing, silly guy on the planet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5.  There is no better place to live in the US than Charleston, SC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6.  Filet Mignon is my favorite meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7.  I absolutely love the Renaissance era.  I should have been a history teacher.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ok, anyone who truly knows me knows I'm bad at math.  I know that is 7!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;People who I am tagging (if you've already done this you can do it again, or just ignore me like most people do!): &lt;a href="http://homeschoolersguidetothegalaxy.blogspot.com/"&gt;Alison K&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://kitchenretro.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lidian&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://thefly4176.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Fly&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh, I guess now I need to go comment on their blogs and let them know they have been tagged.  You're It!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Adios! (that's about all the Spanish I know)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-3274084963254806928?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3274084963254806928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=3274084963254806928' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3274084963254806928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3274084963254806928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/03/six-degrees-of-randomness.html' title='Six Degrees of Randomness'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/Scf_LrOz65I/AAAAAAAAAoQ/HtOnGGwjLYc/s72-c/six.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-6297166486501878939</id><published>2009-03-21T13:26:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T13:50:21.205-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ingrid Newkirk&apos;s Will'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PETA'/><title type='text'>Ingrid Newkirk's Unique Will - More Proof that Peta Followers, or should I say Founders, are Nuts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ScUjf5GVX0I/AAAAAAAAAoI/laZ0Ox5VDyw/s1600-h/I+N+Will.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 129px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ScUjf5GVX0I/AAAAAAAAAoI/laZ0Ox5VDyw/s320/I+N+Will.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315693965991042882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I really thought this was a joke, but seeing as Ingrid Newkirk is the President and cofounder of PETA, it must not be.  I understand and respect people who donate their remains to science.  But why on earth would you donate your remains to PETA?  Is that even legal?  I mean can I just pick an  organization to donate my dead body to?  Hm... I can't even think of who I would want to lay that burden on.  I'm thinking of the organizations I'm involved in and I think they'd be pretty perturbed with me if I did that to them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;One thing she states that she would like done with her body is to have a human bbq!  I sure hope they use some KC Masterpiece, but since Virginia is in the south, I think Maurice Bessinger's bbq sauce would be most appropriate.  Hm..  is it even legal to bbq humans in the US?  This activity may have to happen on another continent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Ms. Ingrid also wants her pointy finger given to the circus.  Her finger will end up just like all the other animals she is wanting to protect - 0n display.  Somehow I think the animals will be better taken care of than her finger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;The nuttiness goes on and on.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.peta.org/feat/newkirk/will.html"&gt;You can read the full will here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I just wish I could figure out what organization to donate my body to.  I think I will let my family determine that , but I'm sure they will chose the more traditional route on a normal burial.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-6297166486501878939?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.peta.org/feat/newkirk/will.html' title='Ingrid Newkirk&apos;s Unique Will - More Proof that Peta Followers, or should I say Founders, are Nuts'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/6297166486501878939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=6297166486501878939' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/6297166486501878939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/6297166486501878939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/03/ingrid-newkirks-unique-will-more-proof.html' title='Ingrid Newkirk&apos;s Unique Will - More Proof that Peta Followers, or should I say Founders, are Nuts'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ScUjf5GVX0I/AAAAAAAAAoI/laZ0Ox5VDyw/s72-c/I+N+Will.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-4864627678550476531</id><published>2009-03-19T18:31:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T10:00:19.460-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Viewing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Irish Wake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Visitation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Funeral'/><title type='text'>Why Do We Call It A Wake When They Are Already Dead?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ScML4nnjwTI/AAAAAAAAAoA/dt-uX2ud2zQ/s1600-h/funeral.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ScML4nnjwTI/AAAAAAAAAoA/dt-uX2ud2zQ/s320/funeral.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315105052562800946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I'm going to a visitation today." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;That was a tweet I saw on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://twitter.com/lilyslicorice"&gt;twitter &lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;today.  That tweet got me to thinking.  There are so many different terms for "going to a visitation".  When I was a kid it was called going to a "wake".  Down here in the south it's called a viewing.  There are some interesting tidbits as to why we call these adventures of "paying respects" the terms we call them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;Wake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; - originally people sat up and watched the dead person to make sure they really were dead before they buried them alive.  It just so happens that quite a few people have had that misfortune so family members would sit vigil to make sure their loved one didn't wake up.  I'm sure they would have been thrilled if they did wake up.  Hence the term "wake".  A little side note:  Many were buried with hammers so they could tap on the casket or try to dig their way out if they "woke up" after they were buried.  Could you imagine being in that situation!?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Now the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Irish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, as I have witnessed with my hubby's oh-so Irish family, have an &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;Irish Wake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.  This lasts from the time of death until the funeral.  The purpose is to raise a ruckus in order to wake the dead person.  The ones causing the ruckus would watch the dead person to make sure they really were dead.  I've never been to such parties as I have when my in-laws died.  The Irish sure know how to "send one on".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;Viewing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; - Clearly one goes to "view" the body.  If you think about it, it's a bit of a morbid practice.  My sister insists she does not want a wake, viewing, whatever it is you call it.  She doesn't want people looking at her.  Me?  I just want to make sure I'm in my pajamas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;Visitation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; - Yes, we go to visit, the deceased and pay respects to them and their family and friends.  Many times this is the only time we see those rotten cousins who broke our toys when we were younger, or the aunt who insists on pinching our cheeks.  If if weren't for visitations some families may never see each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and the cartoon above cracks me up!  That is so my mother at a wake.  She would comment to the family at the casket and the whole way home about how the funeral home "did such a good job" on whoever was in the coffin.  "They made her look 20 years younger!" mom would say many times.  Or "Oh! They put way too much makeup on her."  There is always a critique of the body, the makeup and the hair.  She should have been a mortuary beautician.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Whatever you call it in your family or locale, we all do the same thing.  We all go to show respects to the family and to say goodbye to a dear loved one.  What is it that your family does?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-4864627678550476531?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/4864627678550476531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=4864627678550476531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4864627678550476531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4864627678550476531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/03/why-do-we-call-it-wake-when-they-are.html' title='Why Do We Call It A Wake When They Are Already Dead?'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ScML4nnjwTI/AAAAAAAAAoA/dt-uX2ud2zQ/s72-c/funeral.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-3353176737951789019</id><published>2009-03-14T19:46:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T20:00:28.742-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='root canal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>Flying Horses in the Barn</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SbxEO5ejk8I/AAAAAAAAAnk/JagDumMmJe8/s1600-h/flying+horse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 90px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SbxEO5ejk8I/AAAAAAAAAnk/JagDumMmJe8/s320/flying+horse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313196683128181698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My 10 year old son was due to have a root canal (due to a dentist not filling a cavity properly years ago) this past week.  So the dentist gave him a prescription of meds to take the night before and the morning of.  &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So the night before his root canal, my hubby gave the two prescribed pills to my son as directed.  I was surprised he swallowed them so easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bit later, he came into our room to tell us he was dizzy.   He was more than dizzy.  He looked like he was falling down drunk!  Then he starting sobbing like a baby and was wondering why he was in a barn full of flying horses!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Obviously something was not right!  So I ied up and got dressed while hubby called the pharmacy.  My dear pals on twitter that night directed us the same way I was thinking and the pharmacist was thinking - to the hospital!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Turns out my small son who only weighs in the 60 lb range was prescribed doses twice what you would give an adult!!  Crazy!  Needless to say, he did not get that root canal that next day.  Actually I think that poor kid had a major hangover the next day.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I think from now on I will research more on what is prescribed instead of just trusting the dr. or the pharmacy.  We were lucky, it could have been worse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-3353176737951789019?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3353176737951789019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=3353176737951789019' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3353176737951789019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3353176737951789019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/03/flying-horses-in-barn.html' title='Flying Horses in the Barn'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SbxEO5ejk8I/AAAAAAAAAnk/JagDumMmJe8/s72-c/flying+horse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-4581886604596483279</id><published>2009-02-02T17:53:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T18:29:40.638-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='You Know You&apos;re From Chicago When'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicago Cubs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Garrett&apos;s Sears Tower'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bulls'/><title type='text'>You Know You're From Chicago When . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SYd9FnXWmUI/AAAAAAAAAks/1KUmITHWhhk/s1600-h/Sears+Tower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 91px; height: 143px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SYd9FnXWmUI/AAAAAAAAAks/1KUmITHWhhk/s320/Sears+Tower.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298341022044428610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I was fortunate to grow up in Chicago.  A friend of mine who still lives there sent this to me today.  I was laughing my head off at some of them, especially the ones about the chairs in the streets.  I've seen people "beat" over those darn things outside my grandma's house.  Anyway, for those of you from Chicago enjoy.  For those unfortunate souls who aren't from Chicago, here's a taste of what it's like to live in that great city.  &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU KNOW YOU'RE FROM &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; cursor: pointer; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1233614859_10" &gt;CHICAGO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; WHEN....&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You        say "Wanna go with?" when you mean "Do you want to come with        me?"  &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;(No wonder nobody in South Carolina understands me!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what Kennedy, Dan Ryan, Eisenhower, Edens, and Bishop        Ford have in common and curse one of them daily.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You can name three or four extra taxes        nobody else pays.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know the difference between &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1233614859_11" &gt;Richard J Daley&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;        and Richard M Daley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You say        Chicaaago.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You think going to a Bears game in single digit        temperatures with a wind off the lake (and freezing rain) is        fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You expect corruption        in local politics.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You go to the Dells in the summer to get away        from the other 20 thousand that followed you. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;(We went there EVERY summer.  What fun!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You've been caught        speeding in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1233614859_12" &gt;Wisconsin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; because you had Illinois plates.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You guard        your shoveled parking space with an old chair and unusable        broom.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know why they call it the "Windy City".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You know        dead people who have voted.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've never ever considered the idea of        hiring non-union laborers.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know a good gyros joint.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You know what        Giordanos, Lou Malnati's, and Gino's have in common.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You know when        the last time the Cubs won a pennant.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know exactly how many        cars are "legally" allowed to turn left after the light turns        red. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt; (You HAVE to know this!  It's very dangerous not to.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Your idea of relaxing and getting away from it all        is Ravinia (with 10,000 others who have the same idea).&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can        recite many of "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1233614859_14" &gt;The Blues Brothers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;" lines and know where they filmed        certain scenes. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;(They filmed some of the chase scenes right in our neighborhood)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1233614859_15" &gt;The "Living&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Room" is        called the "Front Room".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You don't pronounce the "s" at the end of        Illinois. You become irate with people who do.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You refer to anything South of I-80 as        "Southern Illinois".&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You refer to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1233614859_16" &gt;Lake Michigan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; as "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1233614859_17" &gt;The        Lake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You refer to Chicago as "The City".&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="border-bottom: medium none; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; cursor: pointer; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1233614859_18" &gt;The Super Bowl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"        refers to one specific game played in January of        1986.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;(And what a great game that was!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You buy "The Trib".&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You think 35        degrees is great weather to wash your car! &lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You know what goes on a        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1233614859_19" &gt;Chicago Style&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Hot Dog.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1233614859_20" &gt;Chicago Style Pizza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; REALLY        is. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You understand what "lake-effect" means.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have ridden the "L".&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You respond        to the question "Where are you from?" with "WEST SIDE",        "SOUTH SIDE", or "NORTH SIDE." &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;(I'm from the North Side.  Obviously I'm a Cubs fan.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what the phone number is to        Empire Carpet!  &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;(588-2300 EMPIRE!!!!  Haven't seen a commercial in over 20 years and still know the jingle and phone number - great advertising.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You wear gym shoes, not sneakers. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt; (Hubby totally makes fun of me for this.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are STILL a Bulls fan........ &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;(and always will be)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have made a special trip downtown because you had a        craving for Garrett's caramel and cheese popcorn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You drink at bars called "Bud on Tap" or        "Milwaukee's Best" -- no names, just beer signs out front.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's        January and you see someone's kitchen chair in the street, and you know        that if you're a responsible citizen and bring it back to the sidewalk you        will be shot on sight.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You live two miles from work and it takes you        two hours to drive there. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;(This is one reason why I no longer live there.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't flinch when you pay the fifth        toll of your 45-minute car ride on the highway.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've taken the Red Line past the point        where all white people get off and all black people get on -- or vice        versa.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you refer to        "LSD" you don't necessarily mean the drug.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You still claim that the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1233614859_24" &gt;Sears        Tower&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; is the tallest skyscraper in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You would prefer it if &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1233614859_25" &gt;New York&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; just kept Macy's&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You        actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from Chicago.        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-4581886604596483279?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/4581886604596483279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=4581886604596483279' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4581886604596483279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4581886604596483279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/02/you-know-youre-from-chicago-when.html' title='You Know You&apos;re From Chicago When . . .'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SYd9FnXWmUI/AAAAAAAAAks/1KUmITHWhhk/s72-c/Sears+Tower.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-6819452637608436990</id><published>2009-01-19T23:39:00.015-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T20:12:02.860-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Innaugaration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Barack Obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cartoons'/><title type='text'>In Honor of Barack Obama's Inauguration - Obama Cartoons</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And who says Barack Obama brings us no comedy?  I beg to differ.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXVWHS0JmdI/AAAAAAAAAjM/Oww8teVXq4Y/s1600-h/obama+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 220px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXVWHS0JmdI/AAAAAAAAAjM/Oww8teVXq4Y/s320/obama+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293231620353530322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXVW2WG_KYI/AAAAAAAAAjk/uxADq9Yn7xs/s1600-h/obama4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 232px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXVW2WG_KYI/AAAAAAAAAjk/uxADq9Yn7xs/s320/obama4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293232428691696002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXXlw9GqYGI/AAAAAAAAAj0/sAgB-2iGJY0/s1600-h/obama6.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 220px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXXlw9GqYGI/AAAAAAAAAj0/sAgB-2iGJY0/s320/obama6.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293389566242873442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXXmtJwksPI/AAAAAAAAAkU/LcFf8qlUkbY/s1600-h/obama9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 309px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXXmtJwksPI/AAAAAAAAAkU/LcFf8qlUkbY/s320/obama9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293390600432038130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXVWdl9bb-I/AAAAAAAAAjU/ZN396Yhhvjg/s1600-h/obama2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 120px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXVWdl9bb-I/AAAAAAAAAjU/ZN396Yhhvjg/s320/obama2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293232003449843682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXXmAxKMqXI/AAAAAAAAAj8/5T6f1DeIXkk/s1600-h/obama6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXXmAxKMqXI/AAAAAAAAAj8/5T6f1DeIXkk/s320/obama6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293389837914384754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXVXBxuYTjI/AAAAAAAAAjs/V-4Wd1t1SAo/s1600-h/obama5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 220px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXVXBxuYTjI/AAAAAAAAAjs/V-4Wd1t1SAo/s320/obama5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293232625083239986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXXmb-L5ZLI/AAAAAAAAAkM/k2fYY1VedSI/s1600-h/obama8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 247px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXXmb-L5ZLI/AAAAAAAAAkM/k2fYY1VedSI/s320/obama8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293390305267639474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXXmM4ueKRI/AAAAAAAAAkE/7DsBocpBj2M/s1600-h/obama7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 225px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXXmM4ueKRI/AAAAAAAAAkE/7DsBocpBj2M/s320/obama7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293390046104004882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Yes YOU Did!  Congratulations President Obama.  I wish you all the best in this challenging endeavor you have taken on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-6819452637608436990?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/6819452637608436990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=6819452637608436990' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/6819452637608436990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/6819452637608436990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/01/in-honor-of-barack-obamas-innaugaration.html' title='In Honor of Barack Obama&apos;s Inauguration - Obama Cartoons'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXVWHS0JmdI/AAAAAAAAAjM/Oww8teVXq4Y/s72-c/obama+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-3213780581846140816</id><published>2009-01-19T00:31:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T00:48:03.060-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='toilet paper'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cat food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ashley'/><title type='text'>The Dollar Store Doesn't Have Cat Food or Toilet Paper</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXQSXSyPPVI/AAAAAAAAAjE/pX94TEc-vwg/s1600-h/cat+food.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXQSXSyPPVI/AAAAAAAAAjE/pX94TEc-vwg/s320/cat+food.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292875653456018770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Poor Ashley was out of cat food.  And us poor humans were in need of more toilet paper.  So when my silly hubby said he was going out to Wal-Mart I asked him to pick up some cat food and toilet paper.  He goes to Wal-Mart to get some item for his precious TV.  Then he calls me from the Dollar Store to report that he is so shocked that the Dollar Store doesn't have cat food OR toilet paper.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Can someone please tell me who drives all the way across town to purchase cat food and toilet paper at the Dollar Store when you were already at Wal-Mart?  And who buys toilet paper and cat food at the Dollar Store anyway?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Since hubby was so bewildered that the Dollar Store didn't have cat food and toilet paper, I told him to go next door, a whopping 300 feet, to Piggly Wiggly to get the stuff.  Gee, I'm so brilliant!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So tonight I go to feed the cat.  I ask hubby where the cat food is.  "Don't you remember, the Dollar Store didn't have any."  he said.  OMG!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-3213780581846140816?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3213780581846140816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=3213780581846140816' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3213780581846140816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3213780581846140816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/01/how-hard-is-it-to-go-out-and-get-cat.html' title='The Dollar Store Doesn&apos;t Have Cat Food or Toilet Paper'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXQSXSyPPVI/AAAAAAAAAjE/pX94TEc-vwg/s72-c/cat+food.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-2465296300128400443</id><published>2009-01-16T22:58:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T23:37:17.844-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Don&apos;t Flip Me Off'/><title type='text'>Please Don't Flip Me Off When My Kids Are In The Car</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXFeGXeWlbI/AAAAAAAAAi8/vb5g_4eiJ-4/s1600-h/car+accident.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXFeGXeWlbI/AAAAAAAAAi8/vb5g_4eiJ-4/s320/car+accident.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292114500610594226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Why is it that every time I just about get run out of my lane or someone just about hits me they are the ones who flip me off?  It seems like it's always crazy women too who go burzerk and start screaming at you on the road.  Just today this was my experience:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm in the drive-thru lane at McDonald's.  The lady in the little blue car in front of me kept backing up.  So I kept backing up so she wouldn't hit me.  It got to the point where I could no longer back up otherwise I'd run right smack dab into the big white van that was in back of me.  She still tried to back up so I honked the horn.  What would you have done?  (Now I'm thinking maybe I should have just floored it!)  Anyway, so I honked the horn and she slammed her breaks on.  Gee, my horn honking saved my own van! Yippee!!  Well she rolls her window down, puts her left arm out the window, gives me her sweet little "birdie" finger and then puts her head out, turns around and starts screaming her head off at me.  I'm still wondering what on earth I did that was so bad that warranted that kind of response.  (Mind you, I had two kids in the car with me.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Then later in the day, I'm driving merrily down the road towards my house and another lady, who clearly cannot turn right onto another road and stay in her proper lane, comes barreling into my lane!!  I had to swerve to the left (luckily no cars were coming in the oncoming lane otherwise I would have been toast).  Again, I honked my horn so she knew I was there.  She rolled her window down so darn fast and got that arm and middle finger out so fast it wasn't even funny! She was screaming too, but I couldn't hear what she was saying cause her muffler was so loud.  What's even worse with this person (I cannot call her a lady) was that she proceeded to follow next to me and kept flipping me off and yelling out the window!  Again, I had two kids in the car with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What is up with these crazy women anymore?  Do they not know that it is extremely unladylike to be yelling at people and giving them the "bird"?  Also, any of you who do this, men and women, can you please refrain from doing that!! Especially when there are kids in the car that you are flipping off!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-2465296300128400443?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/2465296300128400443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=2465296300128400443' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2465296300128400443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2465296300128400443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/01/please-dont-flip-me-off-whne-my-kids.html' title='Please Don&apos;t Flip Me Off When My Kids Are In The Car'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SXFeGXeWlbI/AAAAAAAAAi8/vb5g_4eiJ-4/s72-c/car+accident.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1607834136636420175</id><published>2009-01-10T22:46:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T23:05:57.581-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zoo Zoo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lily'/><title type='text'>The Mouse and the Heart Attack</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SWltAUjXUxI/AAAAAAAAAi0/JxPa6ZH2De8/s1600-h/IMG_0027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SWltAUjXUxI/AAAAAAAAAi0/JxPa6ZH2De8/s320/IMG_0027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289879089607824146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Here's another adorable picture of Zoo Zoo, my son's mouse that Santa had brought him for Christmas.  Unfortunatley Lily, our lab, decided she needed chase and wrestle the darn cat right in front of Zoo Zoo's cage.  Poor Zoo Zoo must have been so scared and had a heart attack cause she keeled over right in her food dish!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I guess a big dog, a cat, and a mouse just aren't the right mix, eh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1607834136636420175?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1607834136636420175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1607834136636420175' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1607834136636420175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1607834136636420175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/01/mouse-and-heart-attack.html' title='The Mouse and the Heart Attack'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SWltAUjXUxI/AAAAAAAAAi0/JxPa6ZH2De8/s72-c/IMG_0027.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-2408860445658258401</id><published>2009-01-07T21:21:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T21:48:27.740-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lily'/><title type='text'>Lily's Trek in the Swamp</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SWVoKW1Ax-I/AAAAAAAAAis/k_TLyBolPNk/s1600-h/florida+swamp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SWVoKW1Ax-I/AAAAAAAAAis/k_TLyBolPNk/s320/florida+swamp.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288747864552425442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We headed down to Florida for a much needed getaway for a few days after New Years.  Silly us decided to bring Lily along on her first road trip.  Lily, is our big enormous lab for those of you who are new to Lily's Licorice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Amazingly Lily traveled very well.  She was so well behaved!  Hm.... I knew she must be up to something if she was that good.  She must have been plotting, trying to figure out what on earth she could do to us on this trip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We took the kids out to         to go hiking.  Of course we thought Lily would enjoy the hike too, so we brought her with.  Boy did Lily enjoy that hike.  She found some huge animal to chase right into the river in the swamp!  She has figured out how to get her head out of her collar if she really wants to.   So there stood my silly hubby, in the middle of a swamp, with a leash and collar with no dog attached!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm truly amazed at how fast a dog can traipse through the foliage of a Florida swamp!  We thought for sure we would be heading back to SC Lilyless.  Yes, I would have been sad, believe it or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Luckily, my silly hubby was extremely smart that day, and was very quiet in following her.  And luckily that dopey dog loves my hubby dearly and actually came back to him after much romping in that swamp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Poor Lily, she probably had a blast that day, but she will never go to that or any swamp ever again!  I couldn't bear the thought of actually losing that dog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh, and when I told my friend the story, she reminded me of all the alligators that were probably waiting around to eat Lily up!  I totally forgot about those!  Yick!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-2408860445658258401?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/2408860445658258401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=2408860445658258401' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2408860445658258401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2408860445658258401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2009/01/lilys-trek-in-swamp.html' title='Lily&apos;s Trek in the Swamp'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SWVoKW1Ax-I/AAAAAAAAAis/k_TLyBolPNk/s72-c/florida+swamp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-5551610677280442143</id><published>2008-12-31T00:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T00:00:00.228-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aurora Borialis from Space'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wordless Wednesday'/><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday - Aurora Borialis from Space</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SVrypIj_YjI/AAAAAAAAAic/yfwhZcfHKQY/s1600-h/auroa+borealis+from+space.htm"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SVrypIj_YjI/AAAAAAAAAic/yfwhZcfHKQY/s320/auroa+borealis+from+space.htm" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285803901159694898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-5551610677280442143?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/5551610677280442143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=5551610677280442143' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5551610677280442143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5551610677280442143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/12/wordless-wednesday-aurora-borialis-from.html' title='Wordless Wednesday - Aurora Borialis from Space'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SVrypIj_YjI/AAAAAAAAAic/yfwhZcfHKQY/s72-c/auroa+borealis+from+space.htm' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-7900274910483376154</id><published>2008-12-29T00:17:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T00:31:21.256-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dental surgery'/><title type='text'>Big Plans Rearranged, As Usual</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SVhf9kwN9cI/AAAAAAAAAiI/KDXQes-AAs8/s1600-h/dental+surgery.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 202px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SVhf9kwN9cI/AAAAAAAAAiI/KDXQes-AAs8/s320/dental+surgery.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285079674161853890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My silly hubby is having some MAJOR dental surgery tomorrow (they even have to cut a part of the jaw bone out).  So I make all these arrangements for myself not to do my usual stuff tomorrow.  My daughter is going to her friend's house and spending the night and so is my son at his friend's house.  Plans have been made for a month.  Hubby has been home for two weeks on vacation and we've talked about this many times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So this afternoon I asked him what time he wanted to leave tomorrow morning.  "What?  My surgery is on Tuesday."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So who wants to hit him for me?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-7900274910483376154?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/7900274910483376154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=7900274910483376154' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/7900274910483376154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/7900274910483376154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/12/big-plans-rearranged-as-usual.html' title='Big Plans Rearranged, As Usual'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SVhf9kwN9cI/AAAAAAAAAiI/KDXQes-AAs8/s72-c/dental+surgery.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-9030245164505744304</id><published>2008-12-26T20:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T20:44:25.190-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zoo Zoo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fancy Mouse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lily'/><title type='text'>Meet Zoo Zoo - Lily's New Best Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SVWG3GkNHoI/AAAAAAAAAho/bc6kYrrt--s/s1600-h/IMG_0033%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SVWG3GkNHoI/AAAAAAAAAho/bc6kYrrt--s/s320/IMG_0033%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284278019002539650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My son begged and begged Santa for a Fancy Mouse for Christmas this year.  As Santa is such a nice guy and usually doesn't have kids not get their Christmas wish, he left one under the tree for him.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Zoo Zoo is the mouse's name.  Amazingly Lily pays no attention to the thing.  That is until Zoo Zoo gets out.  I'm sure Lily would think she's just a light snack since she's smaller than her large Milk Bones.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-9030245164505744304?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/9030245164505744304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=9030245164505744304' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/9030245164505744304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/9030245164505744304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/12/meet-zoo-zoo-lilys-new-best-friend.html' title='Meet Zoo Zoo - Lily&apos;s New Best Friend'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SVWG3GkNHoI/AAAAAAAAAho/bc6kYrrt--s/s72-c/IMG_0033%5B1%5D' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-5655251210763842357</id><published>2008-12-25T19:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T19:22:15.587-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas countdown widget'/><title type='text'>Good Ridance!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;OMG!  Remind me next year NOT to put that Christmas countdown widget on my blogs.  They drove me absolutely nuts.  I've never been so stressed out trying to get ready for Christmas cause I had how many days I had left to get ready staring at me constantly on the computer.  I will leave the Christmas tree countdown up for one more day - my kids are so excited to see what it looks like tomorrow.  Gee, I bet it says 365 days left til Christmas. Uhg!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-5655251210763842357?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/5655251210763842357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=5655251210763842357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5655251210763842357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/5655251210763842357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/12/good-ridance.html' title='Good Ridance!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-759541606128277720</id><published>2008-12-23T23:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T23:17:30.278-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SVG3sijlmtI/AAAAAAAAAhI/6zl6IkJekew/s1600-h/a+very+merry+christmas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 192px; height: 255px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SVG3sijlmtI/AAAAAAAAAhI/6zl6IkJekew/s320/a+very+merry+christmas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283205813700500178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-759541606128277720?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/759541606128277720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=759541606128277720' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/759541606128277720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/759541606128277720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/12/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SVG3sijlmtI/AAAAAAAAAhI/6zl6IkJekew/s72-c/a+very+merry+christmas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-8638100457291105307</id><published>2008-12-22T20:35:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T22:21:40.368-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Santa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids visit with Santa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Elves'/><title type='text'>Santa's Elves - The Big, The Bad, The Ugly</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SVBGq00YcmI/AAAAAAAAAhA/e7El9wVeWro/s1600-h/picture+with+santa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 160px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SVBGq00YcmI/AAAAAAAAAhA/e7El9wVeWro/s320/picture+with+santa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282800064452391522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A friend of mine called in a rant today because Santa's Elves called mall security on her.  I kid you not!  I so wish I could have just posted a recording of her rant and rave about their visit with Santa today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Turns out that she was taking her kids' Santa photo and moved off the RED X that you have to stand on in order to take a photo.  That red x is marked 20 feet away from Santa.  "All I was trying to do was get a decent shot cause they only let you take one!"  As soon as she stepped off the red X to get a slightly closer picture she was whisked away to the mall security office.  My goodness, the elves turned a childhood ritual into an almost criminal act.  What?  Were they afraid she was going to throw her shoes at Santa?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Leave it to my friend to demand where it states in their Santa Rules that they have to stay on the red X.  Nowhere does it state it, per the manager of the store.  So the manager let her go back with her kids to get the "right" photo taken.  Me?  I would have left.  Not her though - she went back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So the Big Elf saw her and said quite rudely "Oh, it's you again?".  "Yep, it's me again, and I'm going to get my kids picture taken with Santa."  The Bad Elf still made her stand on the red X!  After she started protesting again - SANTA himself brought the kids right in front of the red x and posed with them for a beautiful picture.  That rotten Elf couldn't tell Santa to go back and sit in his chair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's a shame that even going to see Santa is such a trying experience anymore.  You have to wait for hours in line, the Elves are crabby, Santa is crabby, the kids end up crabby,and they don't even have the fun elaborate Santa displays anymore.  The big, bad, ugly adults are just ruining everything for the kids anymore.  Grownups need to remember what it was like when they were a kid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-8638100457291105307?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/8638100457291105307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=8638100457291105307' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8638100457291105307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8638100457291105307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/12/santas-elves-big-bad-ugly.html' title='Santa&apos;s Elves - The Big, The Bad, The Ugly'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SVBGq00YcmI/AAAAAAAAAhA/e7El9wVeWro/s72-c/picture+with+santa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-7925074636549894371</id><published>2008-12-20T17:31:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T17:38:37.551-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lily'/><title type='text'>The Gift of Lily</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SU1ye1UbkDI/AAAAAAAAAgo/oDz2SUOSpQw/s1600-h/open+gift+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 90px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SU1ye1UbkDI/AAAAAAAAAgo/oDz2SUOSpQw/s320/open+gift+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282003812009873458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Why? Oh why, did my husband think we needed another dog?  Lily has been so good lately.  Unfortunately today she proved to be the most rotten dog ever!  We went out to finish up all the Christmas shopping and when we got home Lily had opened up a bunch of presents!  I just about died!  For some reason she chose all of MY presents to open.  She couldn't have picked her own could she have?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-7925074636549894371?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/7925074636549894371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=7925074636549894371' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/7925074636549894371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/7925074636549894371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/12/why-oh-why-did-my-husband-think-we.html' title='The Gift of Lily'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SU1ye1UbkDI/AAAAAAAAAgo/oDz2SUOSpQw/s72-c/open+gift+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-3041249020775228515</id><published>2008-12-17T20:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T00:15:51.045-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Victoria&apos;s Secret'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='JC Penny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gifts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beware of the Doghouse'/><title type='text'>Beware of the Doghouse</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SUiJyJm5T8I/AAAAAAAAAgY/_FAJpA11T0A/s1600-h/doghouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 160px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SUiJyJm5T8I/AAAAAAAAAgY/_FAJpA11T0A/s320/doghouse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280622057757429698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.jcpenney.com/"&gt;JC Penney&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; has a great ad for all you men who can't seem to get the right Christmas gift for the lady in your life:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" target="blank" href="http://adage.com/brightcove/single.php?bcpid=1370868150&amp;amp;bctid=3130509001"&gt;http://adage.com/brightcove/single.php?bcpid=1370868150&amp;amp;bctid=3...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" target="blank" href="http://bewareofthedoghouse.com/default.aspx"&gt;http://bewareofthedoghouse.com/default.aspx&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;OMG - the video is so frickin' funny. My hubby belongs in the doghouse. Every Christmas I get what HE REALLY wants. What fun is that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Although one year he did get me the ever so sexy Push Up Bra from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Victoria's Secret&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; when they first came out. I put it on, modeled it for him and he laughed his head off! It was the most uncomfortable, silliest looking bra I have ever tried on! He took it back and came home with a red, plaid bra with a Micky Mouse on it. Huh? We were leaving for Disney the next day and he thought it'd be cute if I had a bra with Micky on it. I was 31 at the time, not 3.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I don't think my hubby would ever get out of that dog house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So what's the greatest (and by that I mean worst) gift your "man" ever gave you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-3041249020775228515?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3041249020775228515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=3041249020775228515' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3041249020775228515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3041249020775228515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/12/beware-of-doghouse.html' title='Beware of the Doghouse'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SUiJyJm5T8I/AAAAAAAAAgY/_FAJpA11T0A/s72-c/doghouse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-8380109003826466509</id><published>2008-12-16T00:50:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T01:10:17.089-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shoes thrown at United States President George Bush'/><title type='text'>George Bush is Just a Shoes Throw Away</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Goodness gracious!  Someone threw their shoes at George Bush.  I know many don't like him, but come on. "You don't throw your shoes at someone unless it's a mean dog that is chasing you." according to my 10 year old son.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://cagle.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;D Cagle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; kept twittering these George Bush Shoe Cartoons and I just had to share:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SUdCj2aWqaI/AAAAAAAAAf4/peMt-Wc_NbY/s1600-h/shoes+at+bush.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SUdCj2aWqaI/AAAAAAAAAf4/peMt-Wc_NbY/s320/shoes+at+bush.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280262271784102306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SUdCxxppqdI/AAAAAAAAAgA/CCxV5DQM7MY/s1600-h/shoe+at+bush+2.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SUdCxxppqdI/AAAAAAAAAgA/CCxV5DQM7MY/s320/shoe+at+bush+2.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280262511024253394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SUdC-Bmk5dI/AAAAAAAAAgI/Xd5I06uut5k/s1600-h/shoes+at+bush+3.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SUdC-Bmk5dI/AAAAAAAAAgI/Xd5I06uut5k/s320/shoes+at+bush+3.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280262721464755666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SUdEqP0IXsI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/QgnY2QYRgjE/s1600-h/shoes+at+bush+4.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 221px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SUdEqP0IXsI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/QgnY2QYRgjE/s320/shoes+at+bush+4.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280264580705574594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-8380109003826466509?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/8380109003826466509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=8380109003826466509' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8380109003826466509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/8380109003826466509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/12/george-bush-is-just-shoes-throw-away.html' title='George Bush is Just a Shoes Throw Away'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SUdCj2aWqaI/AAAAAAAAAf4/peMt-Wc_NbY/s72-c/shoes+at+bush.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1979911108874011359</id><published>2008-12-13T14:41:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T14:52:55.890-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='testing christmas tree lights'/><title type='text'>Do You Need A Good Christmas Tree Light Tester?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SUQQLGPmaaI/AAAAAAAAAew/ei9sYyDY86A/s1600-h/christmas+17.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 125px; height: 83px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SUQQLGPmaaI/AAAAAAAAAew/ei9sYyDY86A/s320/christmas+17.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279362446025714082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;If you need your lights checked before you put them on your tree, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT hire my silly hubby to do it for you.  He did that years ago for the lady next door who had just had brand new carpeting installed in her living room.  Silly hubby laid out the lights all over her living room floor. He plugged them all into each other in one long string.  Then he plugged them into the outlet!  I know - you are shaking your head right now thinking "What a dummy!".  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);font-size:180%;" &gt;KAPOW!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;There was a short and all the lights melted into the ladies brand new carpeting!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1979911108874011359?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1979911108874011359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1979911108874011359' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1979911108874011359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1979911108874011359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/12/you-need-good-christmas-tree-light.html' title='Do You Need A Good Christmas Tree Light Tester?'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SUQQLGPmaaI/AAAAAAAAAew/ei9sYyDY86A/s72-c/christmas+17.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-229406279405878376</id><published>2008-12-10T11:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:50:14.427-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fallen christmas tree'/><title type='text'>The Case of the Fallen Christmas Tree</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ST_wS6_UfWI/AAAAAAAAAeo/re1l2jeffxI/s1600-h/tree+down.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 160px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ST_wS6_UfWI/AAAAAAAAAeo/re1l2jeffxI/s320/tree+down.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278201496164662626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This morning I was awakened at 4:00 AM by my husband saying as gently as he could, "Kris, the Christmas tree fell down."  He said it as if he were telling me he was going to go to the bathroom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I jump out of bed to go make sure "THE" ornament was safe.  "THE" ornament is an ornament of my grandparents that is almost 100 year old!  Whew! It was safe.  My son has decided it needs to go on display instead of on the tree in case the tree ever falls again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So as I picked up about 20 ornaments that were left on the floor after my hubby picked the tree up, I asked him, "How did it fall?"  Immediately he blamed the cat.  He said Ashley, the cat, was sitting by the door looking as guilty as she ever could.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hm... well there was Lily, the lab, sitting there too.  My theory is Lily, the lab, decided to chase the darn cat and the cat saw a perfectly good tree to climb to get away from the big evil Lily!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This is the cat's 6th Christmas tree in this house.   It has never tried to climb it before.  So who do you think is the culprit in the Case of the Fallen Christmas Tree?  I'm taking votes to prove to my crazy hubby that it's HIS dog that is at fault.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-229406279405878376?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/229406279405878376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=229406279405878376' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/229406279405878376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/229406279405878376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/12/case-of-fallen-christmas-tree.html' title='The Case of the Fallen Christmas Tree'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ST_wS6_UfWI/AAAAAAAAAeo/re1l2jeffxI/s72-c/tree+down.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-2704896435486220326</id><published>2008-12-08T22:42:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:47:53.800-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lily&apos;s First Birthday'/><title type='text'>HAPPY 1ST BIRTHDAY LILY!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ST3pU6afmXI/AAAAAAAAAeg/VjgMqNAiaWs/s1600-h/first+bbday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 80px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ST3pU6afmXI/AAAAAAAAAeg/VjgMqNAiaWs/s320/first+bbday.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277630883835124082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lily turned ONE today!  It's amazing she made it to this major mark in her life with all the nonsense she has caused in this house over the past 7 months.  It's hard to believe she's been with us that long!  She has melted our hearts and we love her so.  Happy 1st Birthday Lily!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-2704896435486220326?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/2704896435486220326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=2704896435486220326' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2704896435486220326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/2704896435486220326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/12/happy-1st-birthday-lily.html' title='HAPPY 1ST BIRTHDAY LILY!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/ST3pU6afmXI/AAAAAAAAAeg/VjgMqNAiaWs/s72-c/first+bbday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1790317662763998607</id><published>2008-12-06T01:04:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T01:21:11.707-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='water on and off'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new washing machine'/><title type='text'>Don't Let My Silly Hubby Help You Prepare For Your New Washing Machine Delivery</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SToY7ApEl1I/AAAAAAAAAdw/2IKpkCaK-pU/s1600-h/washi+ay+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 129px; height: 170px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SToY7ApEl1I/AAAAAAAAAdw/2IKpkCaK-pU/s320/washi+ay+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276557315481573202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm getting a new washing machine tomorrow.  Yippee!!  The one we have, God rest it's soul, just doesn't spout out much water any more.  It spouts a small trickle and takes all day long to do a small load of wash.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So we finally broke down and got a new one. As the delivery guy is coming tomorrow dear, sweet, silly hubby of mine decided he'd go out and unhook the washer for the guy.  Only problem is he didn't turn the water off before he unhooked the hoses!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Which reminds me of one of the classic stories of my dear, sweet, silly hubby:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The same washing machine wasn't working quite right.  No water was coming out at all.  Hubby said, "You should call a washing machine fix-it guy to come out and fix it."  So I did.  The washing machine repair guy had an easy call.  He said, "Ma'am, it helps if you have the water turned on."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I paid $70.00 for a guy to turn the water back on to the washing machine!!  Turns out my silly hubby had turned the water to the washing machine off that weekend when he was fiddling around rearranging stuff in the garage!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Serves him right tonight to get saturated in water for NOT turning the water off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1790317662763998607?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1790317662763998607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1790317662763998607' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1790317662763998607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1790317662763998607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/12/dont-let-my-silly-hubby-help-you.html' title='Don&apos;t Let My Silly Hubby Help You Prepare For Your New Washing Machine Delivery'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SToY7ApEl1I/AAAAAAAAAdw/2IKpkCaK-pU/s72-c/washi+ay+3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-4525873129495565716</id><published>2008-12-05T01:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T01:06:19.064-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Farting'/><title type='text'>You Have To Fart Two More Times Before You Go To Bed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THAT is what my son told my daughter tonight!  What!?!?!  Turns out they are tying to fart Jingle Bells.  My crazy son is trying to turn my dear sweet daughter into a farting machine.  Why are boys/men so fascinated with farting?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-4525873129495565716?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/4525873129495565716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=4525873129495565716' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4525873129495565716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/4525873129495565716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/12/you-have-to-fart-two-more-times-before.html' title='You Have To Fart Two More Times Before You Go To Bed'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1853141673494973356</id><published>2008-12-02T19:52:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T22:36:30.785-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pre-sliced pizza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Silly Husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Freschetta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pizza Amore&apos;'/><title type='text'>How Have We Become THIS Lazy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/STXdRGm6ykI/AAAAAAAAAdI/OFa7u7YdcQs/s1600-h/pizza.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 160px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/STXdRGm6ykI/AAAAAAAAAdI/OFa7u7YdcQs/s320/pizza.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275365824435767874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I was a domestic diva today and made the family fancy frozen pizza for dinner tonight.  I didn't make just any kind of fancy frozen pizza, I made Pizza Amore' from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.freschetta.com/"&gt;Freschetta&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.  Anyway, I take the pizza out to put on the baking rack to make it nice and crispy and the dang pizza is already pre-sliced!  So we have become a society so lazy that now our frozen pizza is pre-sliced?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Of course my silly hubby thinks it's the greatest thing since sliced bread!  My son, he claims it's just like when the pizza guy brings it!  Only my dear, sweet daughter understands where mom is coming from on this one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1853141673494973356?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1853141673494973356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1853141673494973356' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1853141673494973356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1853141673494973356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/12/how-have-we-become-tihs-lazy.html' title='How Have We Become THIS Lazy?'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/STXdRGm6ykI/AAAAAAAAAdI/OFa7u7YdcQs/s72-c/pizza.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-6840767473214046515</id><published>2008-11-30T00:24:00.015-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T01:18:49.833-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Santa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='classic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='A Christmas Story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moviestars'/><title type='text'>10 Reasons Why A Christmas Story is the Classic  to Beat All Classics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/STIrcA4k6fI/AAAAAAAAAco/W0Z6Wam25Jo/s1600-h/christmas+story+house.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 207px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/STIrcA4k6fI/AAAAAAAAAco/W0Z6Wam25Jo/s320/christmas+story+house.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274325873877903858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;OMG!  This is one of the BEST movies ever made.  I am not one to rewatch a movie, but this one I can watch over and over and over again.  Especially on Christmas Eve.  TNT established the family tradition for us of watching A Christmas Story non stop on Christmas Eve.  It's not Christmas Eve without it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I finally broke down and bought the DVD of it for my silly hubby for Thanksgiving this year.  It wasn't open two seconds and it was already playing on the dvd.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This movie is so dang hysterical because it is so TRUE.  Everything that happens in that movie has happened to most of us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1.  Who wouldn't eat most of the rotton food that was put on our plates as a kid?  Ok, most of our moms wouldn't have coaxed us into eating by saying "How do the little piggies eat?", but whose mom didn't have to play "airplane" with them in order to get them to eat?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2.  Who's dad didn't win something utterly stupid and be proud of it?  My dad won a toilet seat once.  It didn't "go" with the bathroom so my mom wojldn't let him install it on our toilet.  THAT still to this day comes up in heated arguements.  "Just like the toilet seat!  You wouldn't even let me use the toilet seat I won!"  Come on mom - you could have given him the toilet seat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3.  Who was never afraid to go sit on that big lap of Santa's?  I certainly was.  My son was too.  We have proof - pix of him screaming his head off on Santa's lap.  And when we were kids, they had the extravagant displays for Santa's visit just like in the movie.  Really, they did. I'm not THAT old yet.  Nowadays you're lucky to get a decorated tree next to Santa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4.  Who's mom never overdressed them to where you literally sweated in below zero weather with your two seaters, long underwear, pants, snowsuit, ski mask, hat, gloves, and scarf?  Oh yea, that's right.  Our toes froze off though thanks to the rotton plastic boots we had!  Those were awful!  Mom never seemed to care about our toes!  And NO, you could NOT move with all that crap on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5.  Who hasn't said a bad word in front of their parents?  F ......... My son still can't figure out what Ralphie really said.  Let's hope it stays that way.  I doubt it though.  I remember I got in so much trouble cause I said "I'm so pissed off."  Heck mom and dad I could have said something much worse like Ralphie did!  Didn't Marsha or Greg Brady get in trouble for saying "stinker"?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6.  Your tongue really does stick to a metal pole when it is freezing cold outside.  My son didn't belive it so my silly hubby set up the whole scene to "prove" it him.  What a dope!  I totally think my son one-upped his father on that one. And what a great dad he has who is willing to risk his tongue to prove a point.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7.  Who didn't have some bully or two at their school who picked on all the regular kids.  I so loved when Ralphie beat the crap out of Scott Farkus.  I also loved how his mother handled the situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8.  Fuses DO go out.  We could never run the vacuum cleaner unless the tree was turned off.  My father would yell just like Ralphie's when a fuse would go.  You couldn't run the dishwasher with the tree on either.  In fact, we couldnt have heat in the living room because "it'll mes up the icicles".  Heaven forbid the wind from the heat tangle the icicles on the tree!  No it was better for us to freeze to death!  I grew up in the midwest just like Ralphie so our Christmases were just as cold.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9.  Who didn't get some silly outfit from some relative that would totally embarrass you if you ever wore it?  Granted I never got a Pink Rabbit Suit, but I did get a snazzy sailor dress with an utterly silly sailor hat one year.  I cried and cried when my mother made me model it for everyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10.  Who doesn't love this movie because it reminds them of all the Christmas' past they got to share with loved ones?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Also, for those of you who really love this movie, here's a great site about it: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.achristmasstoryhouse.com/"&gt; A Christmas Story House.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Here's to making your own Christmas Story with your family this year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-6840767473214046515?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/6840767473214046515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=6840767473214046515' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/6840767473214046515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/6840767473214046515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/11/omg-this-is-one-of-best-movies-ever.html' title='10 Reasons Why A Christmas Story is the Classic  to Beat All Classics'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/STIrcA4k6fI/AAAAAAAAAco/W0Z6Wam25Jo/s72-c/christmas+story+house.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-3130459729954686032</id><published>2008-11-29T00:22:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T14:18:55.138-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lily'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ashley'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tabby cat'/><title type='text'>Lily Has A New Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/STGVasw1E5I/AAAAAAAAAbw/5jSYrNHI0jc/s1600-h/tabby+cat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 80px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/STGVasw1E5I/AAAAAAAAAbw/5jSYrNHI0jc/s320/tabby+cat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274160924552663954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 51);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We have had a beautiful tabby cat for the past 6 years.  It lived in perfect harmony with our dear, sweet basset hound for 5 good long years.  Once the basset died ( that was MY dog - best dog EVER!) Ashley, the tabby cat, became queen of the house.  She was in heaven, because before, she had been an indoor/outdoor cat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So along comes Lily - thanks to my silly husband's stupidity of thinking we needed a horse to move in with us.  The cat is about the size of Lily's left fore arm so of course the cat is deathly afraid of Lily.  Yet Lily seems to think the cat exists soley for her to play with!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We spent many a night trying to get these two to get along.  It never worked.  Hubby even got to the point of needing stitches when trying to save dear Ashley from Lily.  So the poor cat has stayed outside for the past 5  months.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fast forward to Nov.  It is now starting to get cold in these parts at night.  So hubby has been bringing Ashley in.  I've been putting her in my bathroom at night to protect her from the big, bad, evil horse named Lily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So my hubby calls me while I'm out shopping today, "Just wanted to let you know the dog and the cat are curled up on our bed sleeping together."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aw!!!  Lily has a new friend.  They just needed to get used to each other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-3130459729954686032?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3130459729954686032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=3130459729954686032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3130459729954686032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/3130459729954686032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/11/lily-has-new-friend.html' title='Lily Has A New Friend'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/STGVasw1E5I/AAAAAAAAAbw/5jSYrNHI0jc/s72-c/tabby+cat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-785312746989633027.post-1773687620756629895</id><published>2008-11-28T08:33:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T08:49:38.339-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Usborne Books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christmas gifts for kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thanksgiving specials'/><title type='text'>Thanksgiving Weekend Sale at Usborne Books</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SS_zm0D03tI/AAAAAAAAAbg/SVitOcqBNl0/s1600-h/black+friday+sale.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 274px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SS_zm0D03tI/AAAAAAAAAbg/SVitOcqBNl0/s320/black+friday+sale.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273701536809410258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Want to save a lot on some great books for the kids on your shopping list?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://tinyurl.com/6ajfot"&gt;Usborne Books is having a great sale all weekend long.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  Many of the titles are ones that I highlighted in my post  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://usborneactivities.blogspot.com/2008/11/top-10-usborne-books-that-will-make.html"&gt;Top 10 Usborne Books That Will Make Great Christmas Presents For The Kids On Your List&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Happy Shopping!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/785312746989633027-1773687620756629895?l=lilyslicorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://tinyurl.com/6ajfot' title='Thanksgiving Weekend Sale at Usborne Books'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1773687620756629895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=785312746989633027&amp;postID=1773687620756629895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1773687620756629895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/785312746989633027/posts/default/1773687620756629895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lilyslicorice.blogspot.com/2008/11/thanksgiving-weekend-sale-at-usborne.html' title='Thanksgiving Weekend Sale at Usborne Books'/><author><name>Kristie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SIPDft-GODI/AAAAAAAAAAg/EsY0L87m_5s/S220/emilyspix002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_96aP5xDnUpc/SS_zm0D03tI/AAAAAAAAAbg/SVitOcqBNl0/s72-c/black+friday+sale.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
