<?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-3809105218073913049</id><updated>2011-11-15T14:44:58.389-07:00</updated><category term='weather'/><category term='moving'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='Girl stuff'/><category term='house'/><category term='guilt'/><category term='fun'/><category term='cats'/><category term='dog'/><category term='work'/><category term='hair'/><category term='kids'/><title type='text'>almostmartha's</title><subtitle type='html'>A forty-someting nurse just trying to keep it all together.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>69</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-8886865349092051282</id><published>2010-07-04T00:05:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T00:15:38.875-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mecca</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/TDA0j3803YI/AAAAAAAAAQE/Hjl68z0QI84/s1600/ikea-store-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489945736683773314" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/TDA0j3803YI/AAAAAAAAAQE/Hjl68z0QI84/s200/ikea-store-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Took our annual trip to Mecca today. Ikea. Its in Tempe which is about a three hour drive for us. We make an event out of our shopping I tell you what! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The boy needed a new bed. He was sleeping on an old futon and his sister's boxspring mattress, well she wanted her mattress back so he needed something else. He was sleeping with the futon on the floor for awhile. Not a happy boy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So we got him a frame and a weird boxspring/mattress thing, plus some purple sheets. He is in heaven now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course the girl wanted me to basically outfit her new house. Which I didn't do. She has enough crap already, she just wants to coordinate it all. On my dime. I did get her a new dresser. I sold her old one and it was a piece of crap anyway. Plus some new curtains, and a duvet cover, and some sheets....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Somehow, all I ended up getting was a coffee table for the kids game room and some magazine holders, cardboard magazine holders too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think next time I will go alone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-8886865349092051282?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/8886865349092051282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=8886865349092051282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8886865349092051282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8886865349092051282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2010/07/mecca.html' title='Mecca'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/TDA0j3803YI/AAAAAAAAAQE/Hjl68z0QI84/s72-c/ikea-store-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-3878316208462019756</id><published>2010-06-30T00:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T01:04:39.458-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Question MeMe</title><content type='html'>Cuz I'm lazy...&lt;br /&gt;1. What is your first name?&lt;br /&gt;    Cheri&lt;br /&gt;2.Were you named after anyone?&lt;br /&gt;    Nope, after the stupid song.&lt;br /&gt;3.Do you wish on stars?&lt;br /&gt;   Yes, and four leaf clovers, eyelashes, when you turn your necklace around...etc...I am hopeless..&lt;br /&gt;4.When did you last cry?&lt;br /&gt;    When I had a kidney stone last week. But just a little.&lt;br /&gt;5.Do you like your handwriting?&lt;br /&gt;    Ick! No! I think it sucks big donkey balls. Other people say it isn't bad.&lt;br /&gt;6. What is your favorite lunch meat?&lt;br /&gt;     I don't like lunch meat that much...but if I have to choose, Turkey.&lt;br /&gt;7.What is your most embarrassing CD?&lt;br /&gt;    Probably my CD of the musical Buffy show.&lt;br /&gt;8.If you were another person, would you be friends with you?&lt;br /&gt;    Hell yes! I am freakin fun!&lt;br /&gt;9.Do you have a journal?&lt;br /&gt;    Yes, its on my iPod and password protected.&lt;br /&gt;10.Do you use sarcasm a lot?&lt;br /&gt;      Sha! No! Maybe. Yes. A Lot.&lt;br /&gt;11.What are your nicknames?&lt;br /&gt;      Mom, Mommy, Mama, Ma...&lt;br /&gt;12.Would you bungee jump?&lt;br /&gt;      I remember my family doing it and no one asked me and I was totally pissed off, but then I doubt I would have done it anyway.&lt;br /&gt;13. Do you untie your shoes before you take them off?&lt;br /&gt;      Nope.&lt;br /&gt;14.Do you think you are strong?&lt;br /&gt;      Yes. I do a lot more than anyone thinks I can, and I can lift stuff even if I am little. So there!&lt;br /&gt;15.What is your favorite ice cream flavor?&lt;br /&gt;      Chocolate, with chocolate ripples, and chocolate chunks, and maybe some caramel, and some marshmallow, and sprinkles..yeah sprinkles!&lt;br /&gt;16.Shoe size?&lt;br /&gt;      9.5 I got big feets!&lt;br /&gt;17. Red or Pink?&lt;br /&gt;      Red! Pink is icky.&lt;br /&gt;18. What is your least favorite thing about yourself?&lt;br /&gt;      My insecurity.&lt;br /&gt;19. What do you miss most?&lt;br /&gt;      Romance.&lt;br /&gt;20. Do you want everyone you send this to to send it back?&lt;br /&gt;       Not sending it to anyone so....no.&lt;br /&gt;21.What color pants and shoes are you wearing?&lt;br /&gt;      No shoes, barefeet, and blue plaid pajama pants.&lt;br /&gt;22. What are you listening to right now?&lt;br /&gt;      Daisy snoring, and South Park on tv.&lt;br /&gt;23. Last thing you ate?&lt;br /&gt;       A chocolate pudding snack pack.&lt;br /&gt;24. If you were a crayon, what color would you be?&lt;br /&gt;       Whitney Grey&lt;br /&gt;25. What is the weather like right now?&lt;br /&gt;      Still freakin HOT! Even at one am.&lt;br /&gt;26. Last person you talked to on the phone?&lt;br /&gt;      Matt, wondering where the hell I was...&lt;br /&gt;27. The first thing you notice about the opposite sex?&lt;br /&gt;       Size. I like tall guys, then I look at thier shape..&lt;br /&gt;28. Do you like the person who sent this to you?&lt;br /&gt;        I must, I read her blog everyday! Thanks Kaya!&lt;br /&gt;29. Favorite drink?&lt;br /&gt;       CountryTime Raspberry Lemonade that the stupid commissary doesnt' carry anymore and I am going to have to order it from Amazon now! Ugh...Raspberry tea is a close second.&lt;br /&gt;30. Favorite sport?&lt;br /&gt;       Baseball, it is the only one I will watch or play.&lt;br /&gt;31. Hair color?&lt;br /&gt;    Reddish brown with blond highlights. :)&lt;br /&gt;32. Eye color?&lt;br /&gt;    Brown, cuz I can't dye them anything else...&lt;br /&gt;33. Do you wear contacts?&lt;br /&gt;    Nope, I am supposed to wear glasses but don't.&lt;br /&gt;34. Favorite food?&lt;br /&gt;    Macaroni and cheese!&lt;br /&gt;35. Last movie you watched?&lt;br /&gt;    Okay, this one is really weird for me, but The Last House on the Left was on last night and I watched it. I usually hate those kind of movies.&lt;br /&gt;36. Favorite day of the year?&lt;br /&gt;       Christmas Morning.&lt;br /&gt;37. Scary movies or happy endings?&lt;br /&gt;      Happy Endings!&lt;br /&gt;38. Winter or summer?&lt;br /&gt;      Summer! I hate being cold.&lt;br /&gt;39. Hugs or Kisses?&lt;br /&gt;     The chocolate ones? I like kisses. :)&lt;br /&gt;40. What is your favorite dessert?&lt;br /&gt;      Did I mention chocolate? I love me some chocolate!&lt;br /&gt;41. Who is most likely to do this meme?&lt;br /&gt;    Anyone bored.&lt;br /&gt;42. What books are you reading?&lt;br /&gt;   Under the Dome, its huge and weighs a ton.&lt;br /&gt;43. What's on your mouse pad?&lt;br /&gt;     No mouse pad. :(&lt;br /&gt;44. What did you watch on TV last night?&lt;br /&gt;    See last movie I watched...also the Monday night line up on CBS.&lt;br /&gt;45. Favorite smells?&lt;br /&gt;     Bread baking, vanilla, lavendar, someone else's cooking..&lt;br /&gt;46. Favorite sound?&lt;br /&gt;     The ding on my cell phone that says I have a text. :)&lt;br /&gt;47. Rolling Stones or Beatles?&lt;br /&gt;     No contest, Beatles.&lt;br /&gt;48. What is the furthest you have been from your home?&lt;br /&gt;     Naples, Italy for three years.&lt;br /&gt;49. Do you have a special talent?&lt;br /&gt;      I am very calm.  lol&lt;br /&gt;50. What is your ring tone?&lt;br /&gt;    For the kids, its Stewie from Family guy saying "Mom, Mommee, Mama...etc.." And for everyone else its the theme from the Office. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-3878316208462019756?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/3878316208462019756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=3878316208462019756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/3878316208462019756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/3878316208462019756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2010/06/blog-post.html' title='Question MeMe'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-849633075519169685</id><published>2010-06-22T19:12:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T19:21:45.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog Fail</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/TCFven-USdI/AAAAAAAAAP8/TyYquHknNLA/s1600/farmville-sad-cow-1266843930.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 193px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485788393031092690" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/TCFven-USdI/AAAAAAAAAP8/TyYquHknNLA/s200/farmville-sad-cow-1266843930.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have such good intentions. Really I do. I want to be a cool Mommy blogger. I just can't seem to get off my ass to post or take pictures or really, do anything. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My life has just been work, sleep, play on internet, go to a movie, deal with son's issues, work, sleep, play on internet (I have sadly been neglecting my farm as well...). See a pattern here...??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;No sewing being done, no dollmaking...not a whole lot of anything. Just internal boredom and drama in the home life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am about to start a new job in a new city and it involves being away from my family for a few days each week. I am looking forward to the autonomy, but already worried about how they will function without me. Maybe I need help. :P They will certainly need help.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is all a bit overwhelming so it is easier to just, sleep, work, play on the internet....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope to get back to whatever my new normal is again soon...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hopefully....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-849633075519169685?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/849633075519169685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=849633075519169685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/849633075519169685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/849633075519169685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2010/06/blog-fail.html' title='Blog Fail'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/TCFven-USdI/AAAAAAAAAP8/TyYquHknNLA/s72-c/farmville-sad-cow-1266843930.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-7482430466774113233</id><published>2010-04-14T14:40:00.010-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T15:05:42.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Craft Fail</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S8Y8JTw3JXI/AAAAAAAAAP0/1XeV_2FlPlQ/s1600/dolls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 133px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460117728855008626" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S8Y8JTw3JXI/AAAAAAAAAP0/1XeV_2FlPlQ/s200/dolls.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I started this blog, I wanted to be able to share my crafting with everyone. (HA!) My quilts, dolls, etc..the main problem is I haven't been doing much of anything! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I buy fabric, lots of fabric.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And magazines about crafting, I have a bad addiction there. I could open my own store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get grand ideas, and then I get ADD or something as soon as I walk into my sewing room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I start this doll??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finish this quilt??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Start this quilt??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quilt this quilt??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really should organize all this...or iron these fabrics....or wash these fabrics...or...or...or...!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See what I mean???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to focus. I know I have said that before, and my life right now is very crazy with family stuff. I have lots of valid excuses, but shouldn't doing what I love relieve some of that stress?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shouldn't I make some time for me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that answer is a big, fat, YES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now to just figure out how to do that...???&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/3809105218073913049-7482430466774113233?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/7482430466774113233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=7482430466774113233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/7482430466774113233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/7482430466774113233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2010/04/craft-fail.html' title='Craft Fail'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S8Y8JTw3JXI/AAAAAAAAAP0/1XeV_2FlPlQ/s72-c/dolls.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-1914286882871309298</id><published>2010-03-10T20:48:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T20:54:16.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversation with my son</title><content type='html'>Wee boy (11) came out of the bathroom after his bath.&lt;br /&gt;"Don't I smell good?"&lt;br /&gt;I sniffed his head. "Why yes, you do!"&lt;br /&gt;"Its Romantic Raspberry, is this Porn bubble bath?"&lt;br /&gt;I choked on my Mint Milano. "What?? Why???"&lt;br /&gt;"It says 'For Adults Only' on the bottle."&lt;br /&gt;"No, it just means its not for kids. Like little kids, so they don't eat the bubbles."&lt;br /&gt;"Oh"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeez&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-1914286882871309298?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/1914286882871309298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=1914286882871309298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/1914286882871309298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/1914286882871309298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2010/03/conversation-with-my-son.html' title='Conversation with my son'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-450762513974245948</id><published>2010-03-09T13:43:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T13:53:47.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Word to Management about Night Shift</title><content type='html'>Hello! I know you know my name, and you know I work here but I am not sure you really understand how this whole night shift thing works.&lt;br /&gt;We come in at 6pm and work all night at this hospital taking care of everyone after you all leave. We don't actually just close up and go home and let the patients fend for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;We also don't sleep during our shift. (&lt;em&gt;Well most of us don't&lt;/em&gt;. )&lt;br /&gt;We do all the charting and work that you do during the day, but AT NIGHT.&lt;br /&gt;Then its 6am. And you all come in for your shift. And we go home. TO SLEEP.&lt;br /&gt;Like all day.&lt;br /&gt;While you are at work we are sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;Let me state that again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;While you are at work, we are sleeping.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So calling us at 9:30am to ask us a question is not okay. It's like calling you at 1am. Get it?&lt;br /&gt;Even if we didn't work the night before, chances are we are not going to be awake at 9:30am. Cuz we get used to being on the night shift and its hard to switch back and forth. So on our days off we stay up late and sleep during the day. So we don't go INSANE!&lt;br /&gt;Calling around 3pm if you want to talk would be great.&lt;br /&gt;Kay?&lt;br /&gt;Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-450762513974245948?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/450762513974245948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=450762513974245948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/450762513974245948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/450762513974245948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2010/03/word-to-management-about-night-shift.html' title='A Word to Management about Night Shift'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-7584673481248055158</id><published>2010-01-21T09:39:00.013-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T11:10:46.147-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Food!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S1iYV9dG48I/AAAAAAAAAO4/JHjC0zjUjtI/s1600-h/big-mac-extra-value-meal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 186px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429256853836456898" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S1iYV9dG48I/AAAAAAAAAO4/JHjC0zjUjtI/s200/big-mac-extra-value-meal.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is what I ate yesterday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 Ritz Crackerfuls ( new snack, essentially just two big crackers filled with some sort of &lt;em&gt;cheese food&lt;/em&gt; product. This was breakfast)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Big Mac (Bear brought me lunch since I was stuck in the house all day with the tile guy)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fries (which I shared with Bear after my chest started hurting from the Big Mac) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;3 chocolate truffles&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Goldfish crackers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;3 glasses of Raspberry Lemonade&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ravioli's -cheese filled and then covered with parmesan (cuz I love me some parmesean)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Corn&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;3 slices of Pepperidge Farm Garlic bread.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Swiss cake roll&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Not very healthy but for me, meh, not bad. But and this is a big but, (not &lt;em&gt;MY Big Butt&lt;/em&gt;, cuz my butt is actually pretty small), but, I felt like crap all day. And I was cranky, (according to my family who have been known to exaggerate). So today my goal is to eat healthier.&lt;br /&gt;I had some oatmeal for breakfast. For lunch I was thinking of a tuna sandwich. I will stay away from the chocolate and other crap. At least until I go to work where I will have to keep eating sugar and drinking caffiene to stay awake. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I will be good till then. Hopefully.&lt;/p&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/3809105218073913049-7584673481248055158?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/7584673481248055158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=7584673481248055158' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/7584673481248055158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/7584673481248055158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2010/01/bad-food.html' title='Bad Food!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S1iYV9dG48I/AAAAAAAAAO4/JHjC0zjUjtI/s72-c/big-mac-extra-value-meal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-7382259189729570913</id><published>2010-01-19T09:22:00.010-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T10:54:29.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some more nothing...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S1Xw21bWfGI/AAAAAAAAAOw/Wgp7Ixacb4o/s1600-h/under+the+dome.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 148px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428509750710402146" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S1Xw21bWfGI/AAAAAAAAAOw/Wgp7Ixacb4o/s200/under+the+dome.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All I can say is Thank God the Holidays are over!! I swear, the day after Christmas I am ready to tear that tree down and pack everything up! Then New Years, meh, I don't go out on New Year's anyway. I worked this year. Then Bear has a birthday on the fifth so after all that I am ready for a bit of normalness. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But what I am discovering is there isn't much to my normal. Work is busy again, well steady at least. We get a big slow down around the holidays. Kids are back in school. And I am doing a whole lot of nothing. A ton of it, actually. A lot of watching television, a lot of Facebook. Some reading. Which is good. The reading part at least. I have a huge stack of books, some I got for Christmas last year! So I am trying to make a dent. (Reading Stephen Kings new one should make a HUGE dent! That is one big book.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had planned on doing a bunch of sewing, but my room got turned into a storage room when the new bathtub got put in. And now it still has bathroom crap in it because this week the tile is being put in. Grrrrr.... but I always plan on doing a bunch of sewing and then when I get the free time I am sitting on the couch watching TV and playing Bejeweled. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I will drag out my hand quilting frame and at least do that when I am watching tv. At least its &lt;em&gt;something&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I blame the weather. I just don't feel like doing much of anything when its cold and icky out. Yeah. The Weather. We'll blame that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This week at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-7382259189729570913?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/7382259189729570913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=7382259189729570913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/7382259189729570913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/7382259189729570913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2010/01/some-more-nothing.html' title='Some more nothing...'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S1Xw21bWfGI/AAAAAAAAAOw/Wgp7Ixacb4o/s72-c/under+the+dome.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-304948014367651351</id><published>2009-12-02T22:37:00.009-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T22:56:24.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Crap</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SxdSihvw4GI/AAAAAAAAAOo/Z4zPJtZo9G4/s1600-h/pancakes+chillin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410884230436675682" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SxdSihvw4GI/AAAAAAAAAOo/Z4zPJtZo9G4/s200/pancakes+chillin.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For awhile there I felt like I was working all the time. The wee boy was complaining about me being gone all the time. Then Thanksgiving came. And the pts left. I got put on call on Black Friday. (Which was awesome cuz we were out in Bisbee looking at cool old houses). Then I worked on Saturday, but only for half a shift cuz someone else didn't want to be on call and I didn't want to work. &lt;g&gt;Then Tuesday on call again. Yeesh!&lt;br /&gt;So I have been home for quite awhile. Trying to keep busy and get some stuff done. The bathroom is still a wreck, no tile, brick exposed and a ton of people coming in to give us estimates who never give us an estimate. &lt;sigh&gt;Instead of worrying about that I have been cleaning out the former sewing room and turning it into a game room for the boys. Which gives me my TV back. :) So win-win! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I had to scramble and make a stocking and fill it for an exchange I signed up for. December first just kind of snuck up on me! While doing that I remembered that I like to sew. So I made a vow to just get off my ass and really fix up my room and then, here is the surprising part, actually sew in it! I know! Who would have thought? So that is my plan for tomorrow. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since I spent all day cleaning the house, even shampooing the carpets I think I deserve a sewing day. :) And while cleaning out my sewing room I found all these projects I forgot I had. Which got me excited again about sewing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now if I can just stay away from Facebook. . .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-304948014367651351?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/304948014367651351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=304948014367651351' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/304948014367651351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/304948014367651351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/12/random-crap.html' title='Random Crap'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SxdSihvw4GI/AAAAAAAAAOo/Z4zPJtZo9G4/s72-c/pancakes+chillin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-8658637096426746562</id><published>2009-11-17T20:33:00.013-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T21:01:59.304-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it just me, or. . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SwNwMpE_b0I/AAAAAAAAAOg/zYDMuWm8N6o/s1600/phoebe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405287340262256450" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SwNwMpE_b0I/AAAAAAAAAOg/zYDMuWm8N6o/s200/phoebe.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hallie started it and I wanted to play last week, but stupid life got in the way!! So let's see if we can play this week! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://wonderfulworldofweiners.blogspot.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img width="135" alt="Creative Blog Designs" src="http://i265.photobucket.com/albums/ii213/beckysquire/wwowbutton1.jpg" height="125"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is it just me, or&lt;/strong&gt; does watching The Biggest Loser while eating a big bowl of ice cream (with chocolate sauce!) just seem so very, very, wrong??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is it just me, or&lt;/strong&gt; do dog farts just smell so much worse than anything??And I do mean ANYTHING!! I am a nurse for pete's sake! I have smelled some rather putrid stuff. Really nasty stuff coming from every orifice a person has. But when my dog Phoebe lays on the floor at my feet and just &lt;em&gt;relaxes....OH MY GAH!!! &lt;/em&gt;There is nothing worse. Nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is it just me, or&lt;/strong&gt; all the ads during the day assume you are either A. ninety years old, B. unemployed, C. disabled?? There are more sue-everyone-for-anything-lawyer ads, weird-sort-of colleges, or medicine for everything -leaking -out -of -every -orifice you have ads on while I catch up on old M*A*S*H or Friends reruns. What happened to all the Happy Housewives cleaning product ads??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is it just me, or&lt;/strong&gt; does the insurance ad with the talking pothole the funniest thing ever?? We were quoting it all night at work. Picture a bunch of overtired nurses giggling and saying "Did I do that??? Let me get my cellular and call you a wrecker. . ." Okay maybe that one is just me, and my overtired co-workers! &lt;g&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks Hallie! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&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/3809105218073913049-8658637096426746562?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/8658637096426746562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=8658637096426746562' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8658637096426746562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8658637096426746562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/11/is-it-just-me-or.html' title='Is it just me, or. . .'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SwNwMpE_b0I/AAAAAAAAAOg/zYDMuWm8N6o/s72-c/phoebe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-5026697187529784493</id><published>2009-10-28T22:57:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T23:09:37.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate the cold!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SukxS-zWqUI/AAAAAAAAAOY/7961vA3jI7M/s1600-h/snow+and+wind.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 155px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397899830546049346" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SukxS-zWqUI/AAAAAAAAAOY/7961vA3jI7M/s200/snow+and+wind.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I lived in Colorado for 8 years or so... and I hated it. I hated the snow. I felt like every time it snowed it was a personal attack on me. Especially if I had plans that day. (Of course when I was in school, I liked the snow. Until my school was the only one that didn't close! Then I hated it again.) I hated the dreary grey of a snowing day. Loved it when the sun melted the snow away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We moved to Panama and I hated the heat. Well not the heat, the HUMIDITY! Ugh.. I hated being so sticky! But I liked the sun and wearing sundresses and sandles all the time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And swimming..I loved swimming. We were at the base pools all the time. The kids were little fishies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we are in Arizona and I look at houses in other states and we talk about moving somewhere else when the kids are out of school. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today, today changed that.&lt;br /&gt;Today it was freaking cold. Windy, rainy, and cold. (By Arizona Standards anyway!)&lt;br /&gt;I didn't want to get out of the car to pump gas cuz it was cold.&lt;br /&gt;Bear came home all cranky cuz he was out in the cold all day.&lt;br /&gt;And we both said "Forget it! If either one of us starts talking about moving to somewhere cold again lets remind each other how we really HATE the cold!"&lt;br /&gt;Well see how long this lasts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-5026697187529784493?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/5026697187529784493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=5026697187529784493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/5026697187529784493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/5026697187529784493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-hate-cold.html' title='I hate the cold!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SukxS-zWqUI/AAAAAAAAAOY/7961vA3jI7M/s72-c/snow+and+wind.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-7745435603176800228</id><published>2009-10-27T20:13:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T23:35:30.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inertia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/Sufl4IMmeMI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/PlF26lrT8qE/s1600-h/vacation+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397535430862600386" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/Sufl4IMmeMI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/PlF26lrT8qE/s200/vacation+023.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Inertia: the tendency of a body at rest to remain at rest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its been a nice five days off of work. But I had big plans to convert the girls room into my sewing room, and maybe actually get some sewing done. Not much of any of that happened. I went to Disneyland a few weeks ago. And lucky me caught a cold before we left, as well as the wee boy. So didn't exactly have as much fun as we&lt;em&gt; could&lt;/em&gt; have. Then I still had it when I got home. Plus I had to immediately go back to work. Which my new cold &lt;em&gt;loved&lt;/em&gt;...it festered and got worse. Not worse enough for the good meds according to my doc. (She told me to just use some Vicks Vapor rub. &lt;strong&gt;Vicks&lt;/strong&gt;. Seriously.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Needless to say I have been doing a whole lot of nothing for the whole week. Well I did cook, and clean and take the kids places. And cough. A lot. But other than that. Not so much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I felt horribly guilty for sitting down in the middle of the day yesterday and watching "Ghosts of Girlfriends past" but I had to return it that day and still hadn't watched it so I REALLY HAD TO. I didn't have to eat popcorn and Peanut M&amp;amp;M's, that part was just fun. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have finally figured out what I am doing with the girls room. Just have to get rid of her furniture and do some painting. And play switcharoo with some other furniture. Which will give the boys a Game room and me a Sewing room with some light. Yipppeeee!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which I think will happen next week. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I feel better. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-7745435603176800228?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/7745435603176800228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=7745435603176800228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/7745435603176800228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/7745435603176800228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/10/inertia.html' title='Inertia'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/Sufl4IMmeMI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/PlF26lrT8qE/s72-c/vacation+023.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-5036261361214971008</id><published>2009-07-01T18:11:00.009-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T18:26:39.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cleaning frenzy...</title><content type='html'>I don't know what got into me, just nervous energy or the fact that I couldn't actually walk from the door to my laundry room to the washer and dryer. Or get the dryer door open since there were like four baskets in front of it blocking it from opening all the way, but I decided to clean out the whole room yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Our laundry room isn't just a laundry room, it is a huge storage area. In the place of a garage, since we only have a carport, there is really no where else to store stuff. So anything that we want to keep but really don't know where to put gets dumped in there. You know, like a giant junk drawer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     First I had to empty everything out of there. Ugh.. so gross. Dead cockroaches, lint balls, cat hair, just tons of JUNK!! I get blamed for all the mess in there, but all&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; I&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; ever do is RE-organize everything in there. Like the two garbage bags full of old clothes the girl threw in there. On top of my wrapping paper. Then Bear threw the luggage on top of that. Now I need new wrapping paper cuz its all munched. But somehow &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; messed up the laundry room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Bear was wanting to buy some grass seed and I said no way!! I knew there was some in there somewhere...and I found it!! Two bags actually. That just pisses me off!  He is too lazy to look for it so he just wants to go buy more. UGH...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Mission accomplished though. There is a nice pathway from the door to the laundry and the laundry is actually almost all done..(not put away yet...yeesh! Give me some time!) and I organized the shelves so stuff is in the same area at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Whew!  Thank goodness we are going out to eat. I am just not up to cooking.&lt;br /&gt;     Yeah, this was yesterday...so what?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-5036261361214971008?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/5036261361214971008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=5036261361214971008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/5036261361214971008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/5036261361214971008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/07/cleaning-frenzy.html' title='Cleaning frenzy...'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-8565956674966995833</id><published>2009-06-22T18:12:00.010-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T18:27:48.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I got a new toy!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I bought a new sewing machine!! I am so excited, I was getting so tired of researching to see what a good one was. I spent hours reading meme's on SewMamaSew, and looking at machines on Allbrands. And I do mean &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;HOURS!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;      The one I really want is almost as much as my daughter's tuition this year so I passed on that one. (Maybe Marie Osmond will just read this and send me one??? It could happen!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just bit the bullet and ordered the one I kept going back to. I needed the Needle up/down function for pivoting when I am sewing dolls and quilts, I needed it to be able to machine quilt, (assuming I ever learn how..and I am now convinced it is not me, its just my old machine, we will be testing that theory out soon!) And I needed it to be a reliable machine...so I got a Janome!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SkAtbB8Er4I/AAAAAAAAAN4/4MY12UkeOmg/s1600-h/L_31339_DC2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350326299716267906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 172px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SkAtbB8Er4I/AAAAAAAAAN4/4MY12UkeOmg/s200/L_31339_DC2010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;      It is a DC2010. I could not find a single good review of it, or any bad reviews so that is good. Plus most reviews are very personal, some people love thier machines, some hate the very same one..It looks like it will do everything I want. So we will see...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SkAtbuBXUMI/AAAAAAAAAOI/MbD1y0EI2Y4/s1600-h/L_31341_DC2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350326311549620418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 168px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SkAtbuBXUMI/AAAAAAAAAOI/MbD1y0EI2Y4/s200/L_31341_DC2010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SkAtbWyGqjI/AAAAAAAAAOA/aTL5GUuikgc/s1600-h/L_31340_DC2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350326305311599154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 198px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SkAtbWyGqjI/AAAAAAAAAOA/aTL5GUuikgc/s200/L_31340_DC2010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its got lots of bells and whistles....enough for me anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Isn't it purty...???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-8565956674966995833?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/8565956674966995833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=8565956674966995833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8565956674966995833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8565956674966995833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-got-new-toy.html' title='I got a new toy!!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SkAtbB8Er4I/AAAAAAAAAN4/4MY12UkeOmg/s72-c/L_31339_DC2010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-3888025300331646660</id><published>2009-06-19T07:18:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T12:46:15.709-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rocky Mountain High......Colorado?</title><content type='html'>Bear is seriously hating his job lately. Seriously. And surprisingly the wee boy has been asking us to move! He is just nervous about going to Junior High this year but it is still interesting. So Bear has been looking online at jobs in Colorado. Colorado Springs to be exact. Where we met. Where our daughter was born. Where some of our family is. So far we are just looking. But it is looking pretty good right about now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SjvqvnHRzmI/AAAAAAAAANw/TI6Wsdcc7tQ/s1600-h/front_image1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349127086106857058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 125px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SjvqvnHRzmI/AAAAAAAAANw/TI6Wsdcc7tQ/s200/front_image1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/Sjvqvs5TN5I/AAAAAAAAANo/biBcI1RTO5Y/s1600-h/Colorado-Rockies-Poster-C10337960.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349127087658842002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 149px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/Sjvqvs5TN5I/AAAAAAAAANo/biBcI1RTO5Y/s200/Colorado-Rockies-Poster-C10337960.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SjvqvVZGD6I/AAAAAAAAANg/SqS2zvWbY_Y/s1600-h/gardenofthegods.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349127081349746594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SjvqvVZGD6I/AAAAAAAAANg/SqS2zvWbY_Y/s200/gardenofthegods.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SjvqvG3CeCI/AAAAAAAAANY/Q9-10L9HgqM/s1600-h/colorado.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349127077448808482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 195px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 184px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SjvqvG3CeCI/AAAAAAAAANY/Q9-10L9HgqM/s200/colorado.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-3888025300331646660?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/3888025300331646660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=3888025300331646660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/3888025300331646660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/3888025300331646660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/06/rocky-mountain-highcolorado.html' title='Rocky Mountain High......Colorado?'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SjvqvnHRzmI/AAAAAAAAANw/TI6Wsdcc7tQ/s72-c/front_image1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-6104948275010546620</id><published>2009-06-04T19:06:00.011-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T20:34:36.350-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sewing Machine Meme~</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SiiRhvNcUwI/AAAAAAAAANQ/CQw64hOLDJI/s1600-h/grace-combo4-med.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343680966669652738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 188px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SiiRhvNcUwI/AAAAAAAAANQ/CQw64hOLDJI/s200/grace-combo4-med.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw this Meme on Sew MaMa Sew and since I am thinking of getting a new machine I thought I would participate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;What brand and model do you have?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pfaff Tiptronic 2040 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;How long have you had it?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeesh! I think about 9 years? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;How much does that machine cost (approximately)?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got it at a PX in Germany that had a Pfaff dealer...I think it was about $600. ( I think it retailed for about $1000 so this was a deal!) I felt so guilty for spending that much on a machine! We were a poor military family, but thankfully my hubby insisted. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;What types of things do you sew (i.e. quilting, clothing, handbags, home dec projects, etc.)?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quilt, I make dolls, bags, some clothes...not too many, I suck at clothes! I also make toys. :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;How much do you sew? How much wear and tear does the machine get?&lt;br /&gt;Do you like/love/hate your machine? Are you ambivalent? Passionate? Does she have a name?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish I sewed more! I go in spurts, all week and then nothing but fabric gathering for weeks or months on end. I don't love my machine, I don't hate it either...Bear was in Germany and he wanted to get me a machine so I had to go online to research what I wanted...all within a day or two. It would have been better if I could have picked it out myself and actually tried it. I would have gotten a needle-down position. This one is needle up only and that is hard with dolls and quilts. No name for her. She is an only child. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;What features does your machine have that &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a class="GVAdLink" id="GVLINK_1_0_0" href="http://sewmamasew.com/blog2/?p=812#"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;work&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; well for you?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Integrated walking system is great! And the ability to drop the feed dogs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is there anything that drives you nuts about your machine?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The needle Up position, I am constantly fighting that one! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do you have a great story to share about your machine (i.e., Found it under the Christmas tree? Dropped it on the kitchen floor? Sewed your fingernail to your zipper?, Got it from your Great Grandma?, etc.!)? We want to hear it!&lt;br /&gt;Would you recommend the machine to others? Why?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No great story except I got in Germany and it flew home as a carryon. LOL I was scared to death of it when I first got it. I had a Singer before that and it was so simple, this Pfaff had a computer screen and all these stitches and different feet. I didn't touch it for over a week when it came home. Just set it up and stared at it for a long time before I got brave enough to play with it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would recommend this machine. It is a workhorse and I have never had it serviced, even though I should have! No weird quirks, just keeps sewing! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;What factors do you think are important to consider when looking for a new machine?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What kind of sewing are you going to do? You don't need all the bells and whistles if you are just doing basic mending etc... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do you have a dream machine?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am looking for another machine maybe a long arm....I have been eyeballing the Juke TL98QE and the one Marie Osmond is pitching......or just a machine I can machine quilt on with a larger throat space. Assuming I can learn how to machine quilt. :)&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/3809105218073913049-6104948275010546620?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/6104948275010546620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=6104948275010546620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/6104948275010546620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/6104948275010546620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/06/sewing-machine-meme.html' title='Sewing Machine Meme~'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SiiRhvNcUwI/AAAAAAAAANQ/CQw64hOLDJI/s72-c/grace-combo4-med.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-8716734824111881258</id><published>2009-05-25T23:17:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T23:23:48.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The house...again.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/ShuKwn8iupI/AAAAAAAAANI/DPq9nHmCaFk/s1600-h/bisbee1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340014351139125906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/ShuKwn8iupI/AAAAAAAAANI/DPq9nHmCaFk/s200/bisbee1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;God I know. Everyone is sick of hearing about me talk about this house. I love this house. I can picture us living in it, I know just how to fix up every room. I know who is going to live in what room, where my sewing room is, where Matt's room is. I can picture the dogs laying around happily in the yard or under the porch. It is my house. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now Bear is even saying "Can we just stop talking about it and just buy it!" I agree. Why don't we?? Oh yeah, maybe cuz we owe on this house...and we have a ton of debt....and we are trying to put our daughter through a University this fall...and we don't have much of anything saved...and I am too scared to go talk to some mortgage guy so he can tell me all this and dash all my hopes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah, that's why.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-8716734824111881258?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/8716734824111881258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=8716734824111881258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8716734824111881258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8716734824111881258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/05/houseagain.html' title='The house...again.'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/ShuKwn8iupI/AAAAAAAAANI/DPq9nHmCaFk/s72-c/bisbee1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-7006871342749639783</id><published>2009-05-18T15:35:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T15:57:38.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update~</title><content type='html'>So it has been over a month since I "blogged" here. I think I try too hard to make a "good " post that I just don't write anything if it isn't up to par. Whatever. I need to get over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What have I been up to lately?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Working! I worked full-time while I had a student preceptoring with me. I am so glad to be back on part time again!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Spending too much time on Facebook trying to beat &lt;em&gt;someones&lt;/em&gt; score on Bejeweled Blast!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ignoring my sewing, but buying lots of quilting/dollmaking magazines and books!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cleaning my piggy house since I was working so much and &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;no one else&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; can clean except me. I am that good.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Watching too much tv. I think I need to wean myself off of Law and Order reruns!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ordering DirectTV, since Cox cable sucks bigtime! They switched to "digital" and now I need a box for every TV, and they took away a bunch of channels I already had. So if I want the same thing I had, I have to pay about $30 more a month. No thanks!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hanging out with my husband who is finished with school now!! Yeah!! No more homework weekends! &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/ShHnUJ6VM_I/AAAAAAAAANA/75R0GfXpgE4/s1600-h/material+obsession.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337301366854726642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/ShHnUJ6VM_I/AAAAAAAAANA/75R0GfXpgE4/s320/material+obsession.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have made a goal to start sewing more. I love making stuff, but I get overwhelmed in my sewing room and feel like the quilt police are watching me. Everything has to be perfect, machine quilted expertly. Well it doesn't. I am going for the if- its- done -its -perfect rule now. I got this wonderful book... &lt;em&gt;Material Obsessions&lt;/em&gt; and for some reason, the pictures of the quilts in there are very liberating for me. They show beautiful quilts, hand quilted and used in real settings. I don't know how to describe it, I just felt inspired by it. I am trying to spend at least an hour a day in my sewing room just getting some stuff done. And I ordered a quilting frame that I can use while I am watching too much TV. Win win!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well I really should get dressed. It is almost four and I am still in my jammies. Granted I just woke up at 2 but still. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Plus the family was so nice to leave all the dirty dishes for me and a trashcan on the counter overflowing with trash. They love me so much. Cuz I do it so much better than them. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They are helpless without me. &lt;/p&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/3809105218073913049-7006871342749639783?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/7006871342749639783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=7006871342749639783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/7006871342749639783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/7006871342749639783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/05/update.html' title='Update~'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/ShHnUJ6VM_I/AAAAAAAAANA/75R0GfXpgE4/s72-c/material+obsession.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-3441813539300069266</id><published>2009-04-02T10:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T10:53:01.732-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Knitting and me are not meant to be!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SdQmIB6Er8I/AAAAAAAAAM4/MRI8-5O5afc/s1600-h/knitting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319918979224219586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 308px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SdQmIB6Er8I/AAAAAAAAAM4/MRI8-5O5afc/s320/knitting.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we lived in Italy I learned to crochet. The Navy had a program where they taught you to crochet, gave you yarn and you made either baby blankets or booties and sweaters for the new babies born there. I crocheted many blankets, earning little badges and tote bags for my effort. Then they offered a knitting class. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Knitting always scared me. Those big needles, and you could make stuff like SOCKS for pete's sake! How complicated! Getting there was kind of a big deal. I refused to drive when we were in Italy. If you have ever been there you would understand. The class was on the Navy base about thirty minutes away from our home. And the bus went there but didn't return at any good time. I had to be home for the kids after school and find daycare for the youngest. It was complicated. But I really wanted to learn. So somehow I made it to the first class. I learned to knit and purl. I never made it back to the next class....but I tried to knit and with no one to help, got frustrated and gave up and went back to crocheting. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We moved here to Arizona and I signed up for another knitting class. It was cancelled. I looked into classes in Tucson-an hour away, but at the time they were too expensive- $150!! I forgot about it while I went to nursing school and started working. Then I got bored again and tried to find another class. The local college had a class, I signed up in December for a class that would start in February. I moved my schedule around to work around the class. And then they called and said it was cancelled. The teacher was ill. But I could take her next class on felting and she would help me learn to knit. Ooookaaaay. That class would start on the 30th of March. Great. I moved my schedule around and waited. They called last week. The class was cancelled for lack of interest, did I want my check back or should they just shred it? &lt;sob&gt;&lt;sigh&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe it just wasn't meant to be, after all I have a million other crafts I am not doing, why should I pick up another one? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cuz I wanna make some socks. hmph. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-3441813539300069266?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/3441813539300069266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=3441813539300069266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/3441813539300069266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/3441813539300069266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/04/knitting-and-me-are-not-meant-to-be.html' title='Knitting and me are not meant to be!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SdQmIB6Er8I/AAAAAAAAAM4/MRI8-5O5afc/s72-c/knitting.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-5938444896100975208</id><published>2009-03-29T20:19:00.012-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T19:21:17.095-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday To me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SdQgRsmhB7I/AAAAAAAAAMw/YYe5r-TJ2J8/s1600-h/birthday-cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319912548233971634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SdQgRsmhB7I/AAAAAAAAAMw/YYe5r-TJ2J8/s320/birthday-cake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And it was a very UN-Happy Birthday to me....not anyone's fault, just a sucky birthday. Remember when we were young and birthdays meant a lot. Like turning 10 was a big deal, you were double digits now!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Turning 13...finally being a teenager! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;16 -you get to drive! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;17-let me in those R-rated movies now! (even though we had been getting in them for a long time!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;18-I am totally legal now! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nothing until you are 21 and then you can drink. (except in Colorado where we could drink this 3.2 slew at 18....so 21 just meant you could drink the good stuff!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess that is it.. there isn't much after 21. Just freaking out about the big numbers...30! Ooooh how old...and 40! OMG! Your &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;FORTY???&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now birthdays are just a day and your age is just a number someone can say.. "Oh my! You don't look...insertreallylargenumberhere!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My birthday is one of the those. Add to it that Bear is a horrible gift giver and I got a stomach virus  and started my period and you have the makings for a crappy (no pun intended) birthday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The surprising thing is I am not really dissapointed. I did want to go out to dinner and had actually convinced the Middle boy to come with us and be nice. Well do it another time. So I ordered some cute fabric before my birthday, fairies and paper dolls, and I got some money from my family so I ordered some stuff on Amazon I wanted. I guess that means I am pretty content. If I want something I just get it. I don't need to wait for a special day. Life is pretty sweet. :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Birthday to me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-5938444896100975208?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/5938444896100975208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=5938444896100975208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/5938444896100975208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/5938444896100975208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/03/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday To me!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SdQgRsmhB7I/AAAAAAAAAMw/YYe5r-TJ2J8/s72-c/birthday-cake.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-2614096550086811347</id><published>2009-03-11T16:41:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T16:46:59.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuck in a rut</title><content type='html'>I am having a not so good week. I am sick of my job, sick of my house, sick of my dogs (who keep escaping!), sick of my life I guess. I finally talked to Bear about it cuz I was getting really bitchy and he wanted to know why. He said I just need a new challange and I am just bored. I think he is right.&lt;br /&gt;       I finished Nursing school and became a nurse and now I am all "&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now what?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I am already doing what I planned to do. Moving is out of the question for awhile in this economy. So I need to find something to stir my passion about life again, so to speak.&lt;br /&gt;     I have no idea where to start looking for that. Of course Bear suggested a million things, most of them involving some sort of exercise which sounded dreadful. Maybe I will take a class or something... not real school something like Underwater Basketweaving or something like that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any suggestions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-2614096550086811347?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/2614096550086811347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=2614096550086811347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/2614096550086811347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/2614096550086811347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/03/stuck-in-rut.html' title='Stuck in a rut'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-4810159118136119033</id><published>2009-02-26T15:10:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T15:21:06.788-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My purty Necklace</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SacVhbc4TxI/AAAAAAAAAMg/7e-v0ETk7bg/s1600-h/neclace+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307234349928173330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SacVhbc4TxI/AAAAAAAAAMg/7e-v0ETk7bg/s320/neclace+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this is my necklace. Isn't it pretty?? I get lots of comments on my necklace. Mostly from patients and family members of patients at work. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But last night, I got comments from all the people I work with. That I have been working with for years. They all said how pretty my necklace is. Why Thank you! I think so too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got this necklace at a Rennaisance festival in Colorado a long time ago. I even have matching earrings. But I don't wear them very often.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But this necklace. I wear it everyday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even at night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't take it off. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Okay, once I took it off and wore this necklace my brother gave me for Christmas, well actually it was the necklace my daughter got from my brother at Christmas but we traded cuz she liked mine and I liked hers, and when I wore the necklace my brother gave me and slept in it I woke up with a rash all around my neck.&lt;br /&gt;So I don't do that anymore. )&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wear my pretty necklace all the time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which made it stranger to get compliments on my pretty necklace last night from all my co-workers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess I just looked a whole lot prettier last night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well see what happens for the next 364 days. :)&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/3809105218073913049-4810159118136119033?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/4810159118136119033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=4810159118136119033' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/4810159118136119033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/4810159118136119033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-purty-necklace.html' title='My purty Necklace'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SacVhbc4TxI/AAAAAAAAAMg/7e-v0ETk7bg/s72-c/neclace+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-3346874677549636828</id><published>2009-02-21T19:16:00.010-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T19:37:22.175-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weather'/><title type='text'>Playing in the sun.</title><content type='html'>We went to Patagonia today. I saw a house online that looked really cool. We drove around forever trying to find it. (You would think that a realtor would put &lt;em&gt;accurate &lt;/em&gt;directions on the flyer so you could look at the house and possibly BUY it!! This time, not so much!) We didn't find it after about 20 minutes and a lot of back roads and dead-ends. Grrrrr...&lt;br /&gt;So after that we went to the lake and had a picnic. And Tristan fed the ducks and dipped his toes in. We finally found the house after we went to the lake, and it was not at all like the picture, considering the park across the street is NOT part of the property like it looked like on the website!! Plus the trailer next door. No thanks.&lt;br /&gt;It was a really nice day. But now I am ready to veg on the couch and watch some tv. :) That bridge was a killer!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SaC2WUDFEXI/AAAAAAAAAMI/Q2rtOdZ6d-s/s1600-h/patagonia+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305440855497445746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SaC2WUDFEXI/AAAAAAAAAMI/Q2rtOdZ6d-s/s320/patagonia+029.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SaC2WMTBRNI/AAAAAAAAAMA/2KvpgscV6Wo/s1600-h/patagonia+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305440853416821970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SaC2WMTBRNI/AAAAAAAAAMA/2KvpgscV6Wo/s320/patagonia+027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SaC2Wn34WkI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/BE0RH7xK5zM/s1600-h/patagonia+031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305440860819184194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SaC2Wn34WkI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/BE0RH7xK5zM/s320/patagonia+031.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SaC2XFmVqOI/AAAAAAAAAMY/Ho0jQWXVQjc/s1600-h/patagonia+035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305440868798671074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SaC2XFmVqOI/AAAAAAAAAMY/Ho0jQWXVQjc/s320/patagonia+035.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tommorrow I have some weeding to do and possibly a Quilt show. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-3346874677549636828?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/3346874677549636828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=3346874677549636828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/3346874677549636828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/3346874677549636828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/02/playing-in-sun.html' title='Playing in the sun.'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SaC2WUDFEXI/AAAAAAAAAMI/Q2rtOdZ6d-s/s72-c/patagonia+029.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-454035257363299838</id><published>2009-02-09T23:07:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T23:19:51.649-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weather'/><title type='text'>Baby its cold outside!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SZEcRDOQffI/AAAAAAAAAL4/Yz-x9Cl55-o/s1600-h/snow+and+wind.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301049315640245746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 248px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SZEcRDOQffI/AAAAAAAAAL4/Yz-x9Cl55-o/s320/snow+and+wind.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Good God! Mother Nature is a cruel woman. It has been sunny and beee-you-ti-ful all week and now that bitch has decided to remind us that Yes indeedy it is WINTER! The wind is howling outside, rattling my sad single pane window, which will hopefully not break into a million pieces. (Or maybe it should, then my insurance can buy a new one since we can't afford to right now!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And we are supposed to get some, god I can't even write it....snow. Yep here in Arizona we are going to get some snow, an inch or more. The base is freaking out and my dear husband is actually thinking he will have a "snow day" tomorrow. He might. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were planning on some backyard work this weekend but I guess that is put on hold. I knew we should have got off our butts and did it last weekend when it was all nice and sunny.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ppppbbbbblllltttt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh well. There is always March. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-454035257363299838?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/454035257363299838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=454035257363299838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/454035257363299838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/454035257363299838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/02/baby-its-cold-outside.html' title='Baby its cold outside!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SZEcRDOQffI/AAAAAAAAAL4/Yz-x9Cl55-o/s72-c/snow+and+wind.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-5226418592256698800</id><published>2009-01-30T12:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T12:44:00.863-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><title type='text'>Antsy Butt</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SYANodSduOI/AAAAAAAAALo/n_iZ_TfVPIc/s1600-h/bisbee3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296248150495705314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SYANodSduOI/AAAAAAAAALo/n_iZ_TfVPIc/s320/bisbee3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;God I have antsy butt. We figured out that we have been in this house for six years now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Six.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Years. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is the longest we have ever been anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;Anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;So I want to move.&lt;br /&gt;Like Yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;I pour over the houses for sale. Here, in Tucson, in Kentucky, Colorado. Anywhere… &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;First I just wanted an old Victorian house to fix up. But after reading some cautionary blogs I realized that just isn’t us. Not us now anyway. Bear is too broke to do any of the work, if he even knew how and I just don’t have the motivation. I mean we just hung the lights up outside and in the kitchen that I bought last year. (Okay, we hired someone to hang them up. But they are up. Finally!) So renovating a whole house just doesn’t seem like something we could do.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe an old Victorian that is already done? I love them old houses, but not the reality of them, the cold draftiness, the stuff breaking cuz its over a hundred years old or so. Stuff breaks in my house and I just get cranky, like more than PMS cranky. So does Bear. Because he can’t fix it. And then he gets depressed because men are supposed to fix stuff. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;So now I am looking at modern houses, and if it is in Tucson it has to have a pool. I am not living in that heat without a pool. We found a few but they are pretty expensive, and that is in this depressed market.&lt;br /&gt;This is all a fantasy though. We could theoretically move somewhere in town, after all that is where our jobs are. And the kids’ schools. Moving out of state would be quite a feat. And then there is the whole selling this house thing. Which means having to fix all the stuff that needs fixing, like the bathroom tile, the back yard, paint the house? …hmmm that may be it?&lt;br /&gt;So that is really what we will be doing instead. And maybe that will quell my antsy butt for a while. Making my home seem like a new one.&lt;br /&gt;Or we will do all this and move anyway.&lt;br /&gt;I am sure I will keep you updated on all this.&lt;br /&gt;Can’t you wait???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-5226418592256698800?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/5226418592256698800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=5226418592256698800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/5226418592256698800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/5226418592256698800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/01/antsy-butt.html' title='Antsy Butt'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SYANodSduOI/AAAAAAAAALo/n_iZ_TfVPIc/s72-c/bisbee3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-7483798807885856197</id><published>2009-01-29T13:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T13:42:00.965-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Girl stuff'/><title type='text'>PMS</title><content type='html'>Okay, my boobs are hard as rocks, have been for over a week. I am all bloated and even though I am a skinny bitch it looks like I am pregnant. I am bitchy as hell. Poor Bear is all confused, everything he does is wrong! And there is no way I am telling him that I have PMS cuz then everything I say is just my silly hormones. Grrrrrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all I am saying is . .  .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I just hurry up and bleed already!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENOUGH!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn. . .&lt;br /&gt;And you know it’s going to start at work tomorrow night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-7483798807885856197?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/7483798807885856197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=7483798807885856197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/7483798807885856197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/7483798807885856197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/01/pms.html' title='PMS'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-894324548980173744</id><published>2009-01-28T00:20:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T00:51:48.094-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guilt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Mommy Guilt</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SYAOhwVL60I/AAAAAAAAALw/6exBwREY71g/s1600-h/tristan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296249134859938626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SYAOhwVL60I/AAAAAAAAALw/6exBwREY71g/s320/tristan.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh my, it is hitting big time. Last week I worked Sunday, Monday and Wednesday, our workweek ends on Sundays so it wasn’t technically three days that week. Don’t ask my son though. He sat all weekend on his butt in front of the Xbox 360, and then waited until Sunday to start asking me to do stuff with him, Play a Game with me! Let’s go to a Moooovie! Sorry, hun, I have to go to work. YOU WORK TOO MUCH! YOU ARE NEVER HOME!! Ugh…and then he mopes for the rest of the day. And a little part of me thinks I should be home with him instead of going off to work. So the guilt sets in. And I know that is just stupid. He chose to sit in front of the xbox the whole weekend, and the reason he gets so bored is because he is lonely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is all MY fault really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we first moved here I wanted to go to college. And I couldn’t afford to pay for childcare, so I had to find all day kindergarten for the wee boy. That way I could squeeze in three classes before I had to pick him up. The only place that had it the year we moved here was the school on base. So that is where he went. Which means he didn’t go to the school down the street where all the neighborhood kiddos go. (Assuming there were any neighborhood kiddos, the six or seven houses around us all are filled with senior citizens). Which means he didn’t meet any local kiddos and continued to go to the base school because it was actually better than the local schools and now he is a friggin a genius! Really, in advanced English and Math and he is getting some academic award tomorrow-more guilt on this later. But it means he has no one to plaaaaaaaaaay with on weekends and non school days. Which means it is all my fault he is lonely so I should be the one to entertain him. Right? Like EVERY WEEKEND. The kid has no idea how to entertain himself if the video games are not in the equation. It is sad really. Playdates just don’t seem to work, they can usually only come for a few hours and then he is more wound up after or they fall through and he is just devastated. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, the surly boy keeps trying to throw the guilt but I am not catching. The week before last I worked two days and then on Thursday we went up to Tucson to see Jeff Dunham. Which he knew about, which I reminded him repeatedly since he had to take care of the dogs and be all alone-which he loves. So then Friday afternoon I get, “Thanks for bailing on me, Mom!” (dripping with sarcasm and snarling…) Bailing on what?? “We were supposed to get my learners permit on Thursday and I come home and you just went to Tucson!” You could have knocked me over with a feather! I vaguely remember him saying he was finally ready to take this test next week, but I don’t remember setting a date. And when we were talking about him watching the dogs and us being GONE and all on Thursday he could have brought this up, dontcha think???? I said all this to him and just got attitude. Whatev! I refuse to feel guilty about that one. But tomorrow, the wee boy is getting some award at school which means I am supposed to go sit in the gym for an hour on hard little folding chairs and crammed next to other mothers who had to bring all their little babies who are missing their nap time by being there so they are screaming and whining the whole time. Care to join me? Cuz if I don’t go, BIG TIME MOMMY GUILT.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-894324548980173744?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/894324548980173744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=894324548980173744' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/894324548980173744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/894324548980173744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/01/mommy-guilt.html' title='Mommy Guilt'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SYAOhwVL60I/AAAAAAAAALw/6exBwREY71g/s72-c/tristan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-8973941792652157304</id><published>2009-01-05T21:25:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T21:44:04.267-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still not normal...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SWLgvtw9L5I/AAAAAAAAALM/_OQU58nXXqw/s1600-h/wp_171.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288036022829789074" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 178px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SWLgvtw9L5I/AAAAAAAAALM/_OQU58nXXqw/s320/wp_171.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The kids went back to school today and I went back to work last night. (After much deciding on their part...your on call.....oh! can you come in and work on another floor? ...I did that last week, isn't it someone else's turn? ....Oh Okay. I will check......Oh now the House says you HAVE TO come in!..okay. Whatever.) So life is getting somewhat back to normal. But still not so much. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The lights are still hanging up outside, Bear promises to take them down when the weather gets warmer. Uh huh. And today was Bear's bday so I woke up today and had to do some running around for that and then we went out to dinner at Outback. Ca-CHING! Still it was good. Once every four years is good for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So after the bday I start feeling like life is getting back to normal. My "contract" ends on the 18th. (Where I work an extra shift every week for twelve weeks and then get a bonus!) They are offering it again, but I am not biting this time. I would love the extra money, but I really don't like the toll it takes on my time. Even though.....I barely worked the extra shifts &lt;em&gt;at all&lt;/em&gt; this past twelve weeks. I was put "on call" for a lot of them since our census was so low, but I was still tied to work, they could call me in so I couldn't really relax. Couldn't get too involved into anything in case I was suddenly pulled from it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I am going back to my two days a week, and I am going to try to spend my time being more productive, getting things done I want to do, instead of spending all my time watching television and playing stupid internet games....TRY being the key word. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right after I beat level seven on Bubble Town. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-8973941792652157304?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/8973941792652157304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=8973941792652157304' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8973941792652157304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8973941792652157304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/01/still-not-normal.html' title='Still not normal...'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SWLgvtw9L5I/AAAAAAAAALM/_OQU58nXXqw/s72-c/wp_171.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-6162836935113623009</id><published>2009-01-02T00:20:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T00:41:17.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year Blahs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SV3E8ozRY2I/AAAAAAAAALE/biEPirkdqbk/s1600-h/bisbee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286598083626492770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SV3E8ozRY2I/AAAAAAAAALE/biEPirkdqbk/s320/bisbee.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really have nothing to say, just felt I needed to post in the new year. We did our normal, watch some movies until the ball drops and then go to bed -for New Years Eve. We are an exciting bunch around here. Yawn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And today we went for a drive to look at a house with some acreage, but I am not interested in driving my cute little blue Yaris down dusty, possibly muddy roads. Thankyouverymuch. Of course we had to drive by &lt;em&gt;OUR &lt;/em&gt;house in Bisbee too. It's still there, still a wreck, just waiting for us. Maybe Saturday since we didn't win the lotto last night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I have some post holiday blues. I really want to get all productive and quit watching tv and reading other people's blogs and do some stuff, but I am just not into it yet. I got called off work &lt;em&gt;again.&lt;/em&gt; So today I just layed around the house and watched tv, flipped through some magazines I have and watched &lt;em&gt;Mamma Mia! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So in no particular order these are my &lt;em&gt;Goals &lt;/em&gt;(I hate the word "resolution"), for 2009&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Pay off our Mastercard. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Only watch television when there is something on I want to watch. I have gotten into this habit where I just turn it on and &lt;em&gt;then &lt;/em&gt;search for something to watch. Needless to say I have been watching waaaaaaaaaay too much tv, with great stuff like reruns of South Park, and 3rd Rock from the Sun. (Damn you TvLand!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. SEW!!!!! I love sewing, I love making stuff, but lately I have been buying a bunch of stuff to do and not DOING IT! So I am on a buying freeze, unless it is something to complete a project. I really have enough stuff in my stash to keep me busy for the year, possibly two. Or three.... okay let's just stop there shall we?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Do some kind of exercise, walk, yoga, ride my bike, SOMETHING! I really hate to exercise and I don't need to since I don't gain weight. (I know you hate me, whatever, no fat means no boobs. There. Feel better?) I am waaaay out of shape, I can't walk long periods of time, I can't carry heavy stuff...basically I am a weakling. So I am going to find something I can stand to do for twenty minutes a day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Have more sex. Cuz everyone should. :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hey I could do that for twenty minutes a day!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think that is a good start. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy New Year!&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/3809105218073913049-6162836935113623009?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/6162836935113623009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=6162836935113623009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/6162836935113623009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/6162836935113623009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year-blahs.html' title='New Year Blahs'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SV3E8ozRY2I/AAAAAAAAALE/biEPirkdqbk/s72-c/bisbee.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-2531565293713993349</id><published>2008-12-26T11:35:00.012-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T12:09:20.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I heart Brad Pitt!</title><content type='html'>Brad and I had a falling out a few years ago. You know, when he left Jen for that woman. I couldn't even see Mr. and Mrs. Smith I was so upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SVUqVOc2GFI/AAAAAAAAAK0/AzDo3ROhC94/s1600-h/brad+and+jolie.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284176281933846610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 230px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SVUqVOc2GFI/AAAAAAAAAK0/AzDo3ROhC94/s320/brad+and+jolie.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fell in love with Brad when I first saw him in Thelma and Louise. Then after Legends of the Fall I was a goner. Even named my son Tristan after him. &lt;le&gt;. .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SVUo-2SOkrI/AAAAAAAAAKU/FCKks9G3PIs/s1600-h/Brad-Pitt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284174797978112690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SVUo-2SOkrI/AAAAAAAAAKU/FCKks9G3PIs/s320/Brad-Pitt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; He married Jen, and I was okay with that. They looked so happy, and so good together. The golden couple. Holding hands everywhere...looking so pretty. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SVUo-2rndMI/AAAAAAAAAKc/T7QvXs-gh1E/s1600-h/Celebrity-Image-Brad-Pitt---Jennifer-Aniston-228946.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284174798084601026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SVUo-2rndMI/AAAAAAAAAKc/T7QvXs-gh1E/s320/Celebrity-Image-Brad-Pitt---Jennifer-Aniston-228946.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;she&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; came along. I was never of fan of Ms Jolie. Kissing her brother and wearing blood. Not to mention marrying Billy Bob. &lt;shudder&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;She&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; stole our Brad away from Jen. I was heartbroken. How could she?? How could &lt;em&gt;HE???&lt;/em&gt; I refused to see the movie, I sided with Jen in every tabloid I saw. Then &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;She &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;turned up pregnant. Ugh...demon child I thought. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I saw them together. He looked kinda happy. Maybe Jen didn't want kids, he was certainly at ease with the Jolie brood. And Shiloh was the cutest baby. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SVUo_X5lCzI/AAAAAAAAAKk/XL3LdwSGoKA/s1600-h/brad-pitt-shiloh-b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284174807001533234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 290px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 283px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SVUo_X5lCzI/AAAAAAAAAKk/XL3LdwSGoKA/s320/brad-pitt-shiloh-b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And yesterday the girl and I saw The Curious Case of Benjiman Button. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I forgive him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cried like a baby.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He was so beautiful. (So was Cate Blanchett! I am sure it was camera tricks but I don't care!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SVUqVRFqLPI/AAAAAAAAAK8/0Fe2_wJjmjU/s1600-h/benjimen+buttons.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284176282641902834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 183px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SVUqVRFqLPI/AAAAAAAAAK8/0Fe2_wJjmjU/s320/benjimen+buttons.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So were good. I am back to loving you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I might even see Angie's movie now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you Brad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SVUo_SU3PQI/AAAAAAAAAKs/yy5EpDiZWv8/s1600-h/brad+pitt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284174805505359106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 260px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SVUo_SU3PQI/AAAAAAAAAKs/yy5EpDiZWv8/s320/brad+pitt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I still hate Tom Cruise. &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/3809105218073913049-2531565293713993349?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/2531565293713993349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=2531565293713993349' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/2531565293713993349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/2531565293713993349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-heart-brad-pitt.html' title='I heart Brad Pitt!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SVUqVOc2GFI/AAAAAAAAAK0/AzDo3ROhC94/s72-c/brad+and+jolie.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-6901236281400213515</id><published>2008-12-24T19:31:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T19:34:33.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Eve!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SVLw2AyRdPI/AAAAAAAAAKM/2bAo1MFSA9s/s1600-h/yard+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283550123573474546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SVLw2AyRdPI/AAAAAAAAAKM/2bAo1MFSA9s/s320/yard+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just wanted to say Happy Holidays to everyone!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is our front yard display! Bear loves to leave it on all day long....cant' wait to see this months electric bill! Yikes! And yes the tree had green leaves on it still...they are yellow now and mostly off the tree...gotta love Arizona!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Holidays!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3809105218073913049-6901236281400213515?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/6901236281400213515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=6901236281400213515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/6901236281400213515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/6901236281400213515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-eve.html' title='Christmas Eve!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SVLw2AyRdPI/AAAAAAAAAKM/2bAo1MFSA9s/s72-c/yard+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-8072358128808537869</id><published>2008-12-11T21:47:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:23:55.447-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cuz, I am a dork!</title><content type='html'>So this is my car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SUHuQvpvoyI/AAAAAAAAAIk/PUvphuttd0U/s1600-h/2008+038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278762209691804450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SUHuQvpvoyI/AAAAAAAAAIk/PUvphuttd0U/s320/2008+038.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is my car this month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SUQLWkBSz0I/AAAAAAAAAI0/XtxrRYJPb1Q/s1600-h/car+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279357145439194946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SUQLWkBSz0I/AAAAAAAAAI0/XtxrRYJPb1Q/s320/car+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know. But I couldn't help it. It was too cute. And I am trying to get in the holiday spirit. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I was driving to pick up the wee boy from his afterschool program, which is on base, and as I approached the gate I roll down the window. In my car the driver side window rolls all the way down when you push the button. Exactly.&lt;br /&gt;My poor little antler went DOINK. Fell right off my car. I pull over into the middle lane, put the car in park and run back to go get my antler. I am laughing the whole way. In full view of cars coming in and the gate guards. I find my antler on the road and throw it in the car.&lt;br /&gt;I drive up to the gate and show the guard my ID, she hands it back and says, "And we didn't see a thing!"&lt;br /&gt;"Of course you didn't! Nothing happened!!"&lt;br /&gt;I drive off with my one little antler and my red nose and face.&lt;br /&gt;I am such a dork.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-8072358128808537869?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/8072358128808537869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=8072358128808537869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8072358128808537869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8072358128808537869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/12/cuz-i-am-dork.html' title='Cuz, I am a dork!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SUHuQvpvoyI/AAAAAAAAAIk/PUvphuttd0U/s72-c/2008+038.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-5946886465170588531</id><published>2008-12-11T21:46:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T22:40:49.144-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cats'/><title type='text'>Cat Piss</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SUHrK4sLhTI/AAAAAAAAAIc/JCxQqM4h36A/s1600-h/Disney+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278758810503841074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SUHrK4sLhTI/AAAAAAAAAIc/JCxQqM4h36A/s320/Disney+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate my cats.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today anyway. Most of the time I love them, but today notsomuch. I was doing laundry, which I love so much, and stepped on the mat next to the washer and it was wet. Wet and warm. And smelly. Yes, it was drenched in cat piss! I know, so gross.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Needless to say, I hopped around yelling foul words for a few minutes. Then I put on gloves and threw everything in the trash, I had two bathmats in between my washer and dryer, cuz the floor is stinkin cold, and they were totally wet and nasty, so threw them away. Then I see that the whole floor is saturated. I guess they had been doing this for quite awhile. And I kept just buying new cat litter thinking the one I had didn't work! It was always smelly in the laundry room. So it took an hour but I cleaned the whole floor, moved the washer out from the wall and cleaned and mopped the floor underneath. (found three socks and a box of Borax I guess I lost!) So now it is all shiny and clean, and those F*ing cats better not be pissing there anymore!! Or...or...I don't know, they are already neutered. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But SOMETHING will happen! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh yeah. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Something major.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like I will probably have to clean it again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;F*cking cats.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-5946886465170588531?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/5946886465170588531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=5946886465170588531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/5946886465170588531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/5946886465170588531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/12/cat-piss.html' title='Cat Piss'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SUHrK4sLhTI/AAAAAAAAAIc/JCxQqM4h36A/s72-c/Disney+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-4114162556654644670</id><published>2008-12-05T13:09:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T22:41:58.796-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Christmas means Carnage! Christmas means Carnage!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/STnzX8MhW0I/AAAAAAAAAIU/ExUPg_hJ7jM/s1600-h/ferdinand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276516031062432578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 302px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 222px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/STnzX8MhW0I/AAAAAAAAAIU/ExUPg_hJ7jM/s320/ferdinand.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ugh, my house is a huge mess right now. I pulled out all the Christmas stuff and started decorating, and we are putting the tree up tomorrow. Usually this means me yelling at everyone and especially Bear, since he turns into a big Scrooge at Christmas, many years of crappy Christmases with his parents, but this year he has promised to try to be more festive. He is actually being very good. We are getting a real tree this year, our fake one sucks bigtime! The wee boy is excited, the middle one notsomuch. Middle boy is not so into being with family much these days. Which is fine. But I will miss the girl, she is usually the only other one that got excited about decorating and shopping. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went crazy at Kmart the other day getting some Martha decorations in gold, I have decided to have a gold tree this year. I got gold bulbs, and some cool gold sprays to stick in the tree. Our tree always looks so haphazzard with a mishmosh of ornaments. But they are cool ornaments. Ones that were given to us, or the kids made. I can't bear to NOT use them. So it will be a gold tree with some funky ornaments thrown in. Cuz that's how I roll. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am working this whole weekend again. Possibly. I am hoping I get called off one of those nights. Even though I could use the money. Bear has a ton of homework to do anyway. PPpppbbbbblllltttt!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am still not done with my shopping. I keep putting things in my Amazon cart and then taking them out. We have enough money for once, so I think that is making it harder to decide what to get everyone...weird. I really need to think about family presents, like parents and such, I am concentrating too hard on the kids. Plus for once I will get Bear's bday presents ordered before xmas so I am not rushing to get something after xmas when the shelves are bare! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So enough rambling for now...I am off to maybe sew and watch Lord of the Rings with the boys. :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-4114162556654644670?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/4114162556654644670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=4114162556654644670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/4114162556654644670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/4114162556654644670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-means-carnage-christmas-means.html' title='Christmas means Carnage! Christmas means Carnage!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/STnzX8MhW0I/AAAAAAAAAIU/ExUPg_hJ7jM/s72-c/ferdinand.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-6795130275990324573</id><published>2008-11-27T00:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T00:18:00.939-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Apparently I can be bought...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SS5FkPmseAI/AAAAAAAAAIE/U8U3uK27rkA/s1600-h/wp_148.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273228702663866370" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 178px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SS5FkPmseAI/AAAAAAAAAIE/U8U3uK27rkA/s320/wp_148.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So rumurs were floating around the workplace for weeks, nurses who signed up to work extra shifts getting bonuses instead of extra shift pay. But it was not confirmed by anyone that mattered. Until a few weeks ago....we got a memo, and it was posted on the door of the med room. So guess who quickly signed herself up? Yeah, that would be me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for the next twelve weeks I am working three days a week instead of two and then I get a $4000 bonus at the end. This is managements solution for not hiring travelers this season. Winter is usually a busy time at the hospital and for the past few years we have been overrun with travel nurses, which are great but cost a lot. So they are going to just overwork the nurses they already have and pay them a big check at the end when they are ready to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is week four and I am already sick of it. When I do three days I am just so tired, all I do is sleep, and get bitchy having to do everything else at home. Two days a week is doable, I don't get &lt;em&gt;as &lt;/em&gt;bitchy. Of course I scheduled myself crazy. I work for the whole weekend after Thanksgiving. Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Then Wednesday and then Saturday and Sunday. Gah! Maybe. See the thing is, we haven't been busy yet. So I have only averaged about one extra day every two weeks, the rest of the time I have been put on call. Which is fine....I still get the bonus without working, but you are still kinda stuck. Can't go out, can't get too comfortable, they &lt;em&gt;might &lt;/em&gt;call you in. (which is usually as soon as I put my woobie pants on!) I was kind of counting on getting the extra money to help me with Christmas and so far...not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really can't complain. The full time nurses have to work four days a week, they get overtime and $5000 at the end though. But they are just beat and &lt;em&gt;really &lt;/em&gt;cranky! And they have been getting put on call too. I guess we will see, maybe there will be a huge surge in sick people in the next month or so. Then the money will start rolling in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have shopping to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll think good thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-6795130275990324573?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/6795130275990324573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=6795130275990324573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/6795130275990324573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/6795130275990324573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/11/apparently-i-can-be-bought.html' title='Apparently I can be bought...'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SS5FkPmseAI/AAAAAAAAAIE/U8U3uK27rkA/s72-c/wp_148.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-3825305282669018901</id><published>2008-11-26T00:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T22:42:25.578-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hair'/><title type='text'>Big Freakin' surprise!</title><content type='html'>But I felt I should post something or my Mother will whine. &lt;eg&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle" bg style="color:#eeeeee;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: blackfont-family:Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your Hair Should Be Red&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="100" src="http://www.blogthingsimages.com/whatsyourfunkyinnerhaircolorquiz/red.jpg" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passionate, fiery, and sassy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're a total smart aleck who's got the biggest personality around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://blogthings.com/whatsyourfunkyinnerhaircolorquiz/"&gt;What's Your Funky Inner Hair Color?&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/3809105218073913049-3825305282669018901?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/3825305282669018901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=3825305282669018901' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/3825305282669018901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/3825305282669018901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/11/big-freakin-surprise.html' title='Big Freakin&apos; surprise!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-1136296375155556681</id><published>2008-11-04T13:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T22:42:41.935-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><title type='text'>Done Did Disney!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SRFBFo8vcPI/AAAAAAAAAH8/frCYun4B6LU/s1600-h/Disney+042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265061004520157426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SRFBFo8vcPI/AAAAAAAAAH8/frCYun4B6LU/s320/Disney+042.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whew! We are home from Disneyland. We had a good time but I realized this will be the last family vacation we do. The kids are getting older and not interested in hanging with us old folks, and I am not dealing with the attitudes anymore! Well one particular child's attitude. It makes me a little sad, but also it is just time marching on. And the next time we all go somewhere, we will all &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;want&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; to go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That drive is a lot longer than I remembered! Thank God our friends had a minivan and took one of our kids most of the way. Plus they had the Wii hooked up so they were waaaaay better than us anyway. The drive home wasn't so fun, all three kiddos were with us and the wee boy was quite whiney! We made it home in one piece though. :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The hotel sucked. Charged for every little thing. The room layout was even weird, bathroom first, two beds, then the "living room". Strange. Forced valet parking. Tried to sell us timeshares! Do not call me at 8am on a Saturday to offer to take me to a high pressure sale for a timeshare!! Ugh. Next time we will stay somewhere else. Somewhere with a free shuttle, too.&lt;br /&gt;Disney is always fun though. :) We got excited meeting Winnie the Pooh and Eeyore, Mickey and the gang. &lt;em&gt;Jack Sparrow! Yum. &lt;/em&gt;He talked to my son and shook his hand. Too cute. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The dogs hotel was more expensive than ours! But they were taken care of more. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am on my last nerve, I think it was a bit too much togetherness for me. I have just wanted to crawl into a cave and be ALONE since we got home! Too bad I go back to work tomorrow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now we pay off this trip, and save for Alaska in July. . .&lt;em&gt;with no children&lt;/em&gt;!! :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-1136296375155556681?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/1136296375155556681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=1136296375155556681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/1136296375155556681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/1136296375155556681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/11/done-did-disney.html' title='Done Did Disney!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SRFBFo8vcPI/AAAAAAAAAH8/frCYun4B6LU/s72-c/Disney+042.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-552381706352280490</id><published>2008-10-29T16:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T16:20:03.217-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Happiest Place on Earth!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SQjvhjVgrLI/AAAAAAAAAH0/6HIJZ6J1b-k/s1600-h/halloween-500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262719524282608818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 110px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SQjvhjVgrLI/AAAAAAAAAH0/6HIJZ6J1b-k/s320/halloween-500.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are off this weekend to Disneyland!! Our whole family and my friend Cathy's family (minus her oldest) are going to spend Halloween at Disney! We are excited! I am actually almost all packed, I have a few little things to do. Like attend a staff meeting at work. Oh joy! And try to get the oldest boy to do some laundry. grrrr...He seems to think throwing clothes in the dryer to fluff them and then spraying Axe all over it makes it clean again! &lt;sigh&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The girl is coming home tonight so we don't have to get her in the morning. The dogs are at the Bed and Biscuit for the weekend. We have someone to come take care of the cats, who are loving the house with no dogs to chase them. :) So everyone is happy! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have a Happy Halloween Everyone! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;See you next week!&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/3809105218073913049-552381706352280490?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/552381706352280490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=552381706352280490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/552381706352280490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/552381706352280490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/10/happiest-place-on-earth.html' title='The Happiest Place on Earth!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SQjvhjVgrLI/AAAAAAAAAH0/6HIJZ6J1b-k/s72-c/halloween-500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-8763847298613148944</id><published>2008-10-25T00:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T01:08:54.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't handle the pressure!</title><content type='html'>They keep calling.&lt;br /&gt;Every day.&lt;br /&gt;I can't answer it. I just let it go to voicemail. But that doesn't deter them.&lt;br /&gt;They call again. The next day, or later that night. Like they are just going to catch me off guard and I will just answer. Hmph!&lt;br /&gt;But I can't. &lt;strong&gt;I just can't&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;They sent me a postcard about a month ago telling me I had been chosen, I thought it was a joke. No way. Not me! ?&lt;br /&gt;Then I got paranoid.&lt;br /&gt;How did they &lt;em&gt;know?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did they know it is on all day at my house. That I am the one that controls it. No one even argues about it anymore. It is just understood.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot do it. I will not be responsible for killing something. You know it could die just because I went out to dinner one week, and I work NIGHTS!&lt;br /&gt;It just isn't possible.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot be a Nielson family.&lt;br /&gt;It's too much responsibility!&lt;br /&gt;What am I supposed to do? Choose between Supernatural and The Office? The Big Bang Theory and Chuck? Life on Mars and the final season of ER?&lt;br /&gt;I don't even own a TiVo!&lt;br /&gt;Would it count that I tape Chuck? It is on my little tv in the bedroom! They probably wouldn't count my little 13 inch screen! Or that I watch Pushing Daisies on the website.&lt;br /&gt;EVERY WEEK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(I have to work on Wednesdays and the tape messed up twice! Plus the sound was all screwy when it was broadcast but fine on the website. I can't chance it anymore! )&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you are trying to reach me, you might want to email.&lt;br /&gt;I am not answering the phone.&lt;br /&gt;For anyone.&lt;br /&gt;You never know.&lt;br /&gt;They could try with a different name.&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't put it past them.&lt;br /&gt;I think they are watching me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-8763847298613148944?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/8763847298613148944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=8763847298613148944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8763847298613148944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8763847298613148944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-cant-handle-pressure.html' title='I can&apos;t handle the pressure!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-8388137315265159358</id><published>2008-10-18T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T15:44:32.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a geek.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SPpmYSs_YbI/AAAAAAAAAHs/8p2jlAFHhLs/s1600-h/May+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258628082431910322" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SPpmYSs_YbI/AAAAAAAAAHs/8p2jlAFHhLs/s320/May+011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I come from a family of geeks. I married a geek. I even gave birth and nurtured a geek, or two. So it is inevitable that some of that geekiness would rub off on me. I admit, I watch Battlestar Galactica, we even own them on DVD. (&lt;em&gt;I own all the Buffy DVD's too but that just makes me cool not geeky&lt;/em&gt;.) But tonight, is the ultimate in geekiness. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bear, and I and the wee one are going to see the Mythbusters. Live. In person. And I paid money for this. A lot. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I will have to do something really cool tomorrow to redeem myself. Watching reruns of old seventies shows while I am quilting will probably not do it. I am doomed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-8388137315265159358?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/8388137315265159358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=8388137315265159358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8388137315265159358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8388137315265159358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/10/im-geek.html' title='I&apos;m a geek.'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SPpmYSs_YbI/AAAAAAAAAHs/8p2jlAFHhLs/s72-c/May+011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-3760319710184111632</id><published>2008-10-11T22:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T10:47:17.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wasting time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SPGR810tXSI/AAAAAAAAAHk/7HTeucoTe2I/s1600-h/Wasting-Time-737509.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256142714544413986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SPGR810tXSI/AAAAAAAAAHk/7HTeucoTe2I/s320/Wasting-Time-737509.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My God! Its been awhile! I thought I had just posted but guess not. Sorry! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soooooo..I was put on call for the last three shifts out of four scheduled. What is call? Well it is where you don't go to work until they &lt;em&gt;call&lt;/em&gt; you in to work, assuming they need you. And sadly for me, they didn't need me for three of those shifts. Ouch. I always talk big about how I don't &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; to work. Bear makes a good salary, retired military and a new hefty paycheck to go along with that. My paycheck was just a bit of gravy. Until it was gone. Then I realized just how much we had been spending and how many new bills we had accumulated. Again, ouch. Luckily I had some PTO (&lt;strong&gt;p&lt;/strong&gt;ayed &lt;strong&gt;t&lt;/strong&gt;ime &lt;strong&gt;o&lt;/strong&gt;ff for those of you not working at my particular hell-hole). So we are okay, and there are enough sick people to keep me working this week. (Knock on wood!) So it is all good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sooooo what did I do with all this time off you say? Well.......Uh......Oh!...No didn't get to that.......Oh yeah! I ....uh....well.........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah, exactly. I didn't do anything. I had big plans for my little three days I had off (before I knew I was going to have about ten of those days off...). I was going to piece my &lt;em&gt;VeryHungryCaterpillerquilttop&lt;/em&gt; and make a Dinky Baby and maybe finish up that baby quilt for my co-worker whos child is probably about to start kindergarten soon. I bought new sheers to hang in the front room, I really need to go to the laundrymat to wash some comforters and my feet need a pedicure something awful. But instead I sat around, watching reruns, reading other people's blogs, doing house stuff, cleaning, cooking etc...and getting very, very, very lonely and depressed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realized that the only female interaction I have now is at work. I am surrounded by cool, funny, loud mouthed, sometimes annoying women. But at home I am alone . And my best bud and I were working opposite schedules and had some personal stuff going on. Her not me. So I was not getting my chick fix. And I &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;NEED&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;that. For a lot of stuff. One thing I found out is that my cycle-yes THAT cycle- is all messed up unless I hang with chicks for awhile. Really. My dark years where I was a hermit and depressed and lonely, no period. As soon as I start Nursing school surrounded by chicks; every 30 days. yeah. really. I am so weird. Also no sex drive but I will leave that for another day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now that there is sick people in the hospital again, I am feeling like my time is short. And precious. And I don't want to spend it cleaning the house, making dinner and picking up crap other MALE persons left laying around my house. I want to watch chick flix, and crochet (I am re-teaching myself), and sew and plant flowers. And I don't wanna work either. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I am getting pissy too. Bear wanted to go see a movie on Friday during the day, I didn't even know he had the day off (Monday too!). All I wanted to do was putt around in my sewing room. And listen to my iPod. But I went to the movies. It was a nice day, just not MY day. Then today I was planning on having my day but I had to go grocery shopping, and the library, and I started reading this awesome book "Everything I needed to know about being a girl I learned from Judy Bloom." It is sooo good. If you are my age, and actually read books when you were young, read it. So my day got sucked into the book. I also got the damn "Twilight" book, so there goes my week. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe next week I will get into my sewing room. Cuz you know I have to work tomorrow night. No time for sewing now. &lt;sigh&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-3760319710184111632?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/3760319710184111632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=3760319710184111632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/3760319710184111632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/3760319710184111632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/10/wasting-time.html' title='Wasting time'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SPGR810tXSI/AAAAAAAAAHk/7HTeucoTe2I/s72-c/Wasting-Time-737509.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-9209139720837278533</id><published>2008-09-23T23:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T23:41:28.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is Bob.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SNnb2kD2ddI/AAAAAAAAAGU/vlM3kU9VYWw/s1600-h/May+050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249468571116271058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SNnb2kD2ddI/AAAAAAAAAGU/vlM3kU9VYWw/s320/May+050.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Bob. He is our Bassett Hound. Obviously. Bob loves to have his belly rubbed. So anytime you get near him he rolls onto his back and exposes his belly for you. But Bob hates cats. Well, not &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;all&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; cats, just the cats that wander our neighborhood. (There is a psycho nieghbor that adopts cats and then lets them run loose in the nieghborhood to kill birds in my yard and piss on my front door. Needless to say I share Bob's view of the nieghborhood cats.) Strangly Bob is okay with the two boy cats in our house. He will run up to them and stick his nose at them and they meow and run away. And he is okay with that. Except for one cat in our house.&lt;br /&gt;Poor Anya.&lt;br /&gt;Bob hates Anya. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hates&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; her.&lt;br /&gt;Anya tries to camoflauge herself by laying on the black chair, but Bob is wise to her now. He runs straight to the back room and straight for the chair. When he finally does see Anya, he stands very, very still and starts barking. LOUDLY! Anya hisses and if she runs for it, a chase ensues. But most of the time he doesn't really see her. He sniffs the chair and then we pull him away. Its a daily thing now.&lt;br /&gt;I am pretty sure it is a black thing. Bob must be a racist.&lt;br /&gt;But we love him anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SNne4iVfFrI/AAAAAAAAAGk/f3aFRBMzokw/s1600-h/May+046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249471903547987634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SNne4iVfFrI/AAAAAAAAAGk/f3aFRBMzokw/s320/May+046.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How could you not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SNnb3NJNb-I/AAAAAAAAAGc/v6pHGyCAZZk/s1600-h/May+046.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-9209139720837278533?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/9209139720837278533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=9209139720837278533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/9209139720837278533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/9209139720837278533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/09/this-is-bob.html' title='This is Bob.'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SNnb2kD2ddI/AAAAAAAAAGU/vlM3kU9VYWw/s72-c/May+050.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-6776611098213071989</id><published>2008-09-08T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T00:18:47.247-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lots of days off and still nothing done..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SMXdqWgPvlI/AAAAAAAAAGE/FCsW92_yrxA/s1600-h/weeds-wall-weeds-1015221_1280_1024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243841060807884370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SMXdqWgPvlI/AAAAAAAAAGE/FCsW92_yrxA/s320/weeds-wall-weeds-1015221_1280_1024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I worked last Tuesday, which means I slept on Wednesday. Bear had class on Thursday in Tucson, I went grocery shopping, class again on Friday afternoon. Then we made plans to get up early on Saturday and pull weeds, only my alarm didn't go off so I woke up around 10. Turns out Bear got up and did it anyway and let me sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Ahhh isn't that sweet? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No! He just wanted to do it alone and not have me tell him how to do it.&lt;br /&gt;So by the time I got up it was too hot to do anything outside. Bleh. So I got the oldest girls book in the mail and decided to go bring it to her. We had to return a video game anyway that we bought and didn't work on our touchy XBox. (Not the Xbox 360 which I am sure we are the only family that doesn't have one. Just ask my kids!) Had lunch with the girl at Red Robin, cuz the wee boy wanted to try the 5 alarm burger. (He did pretty good, almost ate the whole thing!) Then we wandered around the mall and came home. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So that is what I did. Instead of my looooong list of stuff I WANTED to do. I had a whole week off looming before me, full of promise, and painting, quilting, dollmaking, installing lights, and washing my curtains. I tried to do some sewing, my room isn't comfortable. My chair is too short, the cutting table sucks, its all wobbly. The feng shui is all wrong!! So I really need to get in there and making it more friendly. I did get one thing that will help. A new tv/dvd player. Oh yeah. With Tinkerbell on it. And its purple. Can't get better than that. I am sure that will help. right? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't do any painting, cuz I don't wanna do it. And I don't wanna do it alone! And no one else wants to do it either. So the ceiling in the kitchen is still messed up, and the ceiling in the new room is all primed but no paint either. And the bathrooms are still gross, and the one wall in the kitchen where they patched the hole they made when the put in the new outlet and light switch is still white and primed, but no yellow matching paint on it yet.&lt;br /&gt;And the back yard is still full of weeds and no new rock. Sucks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-6776611098213071989?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/6776611098213071989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=6776611098213071989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/6776611098213071989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/6776611098213071989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/09/lots-of-days-off-and-still-nothing-done.html' title='Lots of days off and still nothing done..'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SMXdqWgPvlI/AAAAAAAAAGE/FCsW92_yrxA/s72-c/weeds-wall-weeds-1015221_1280_1024.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-8738773089560301150</id><published>2008-08-19T23:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T23:37:15.774-07:00</updated><title type='text'>She flew the coop</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SKu7WkpayrI/AAAAAAAAAF8/dnXI2c9YtR4/s1600-h/Rhia+grad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236484988217248434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SKu7WkpayrI/AAAAAAAAAF8/dnXI2c9YtR4/s320/Rhia+grad.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My baby daughter left home today. And surprisingly I am okay with that. Shouldn't I be? This is what we raise our children for right? So they can go off on their own and do just fine. And I know she will. She is smart. And beautiful. And she has friends. Lots of them. She moved an hour away and there is still tons of friends around her. Some are roommates, some moved in next door and one is across town and I believe will be more than a friend soon. But who knows. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know I should be all sad and mopey but I am not. I feel a little loss when I pass her room but mostly I just feel happy. And Proud. Very Proud. That she can move an hour away from her Mom and Dad at 17, go to college, find a job and live with people she barely knows. How did I raise such an amazing creature? At 17 I was a mess..insecure, scared, afraid of everything and angry at everything. And look at her. She is just amazing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You go girl. &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/3809105218073913049-8738773089560301150?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/8738773089560301150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=8738773089560301150' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8738773089560301150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8738773089560301150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/08/she-flew-coop.html' title='She flew the coop'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SKu7WkpayrI/AAAAAAAAAF8/dnXI2c9YtR4/s72-c/Rhia+grad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-7940206252431173372</id><published>2008-07-29T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T11:10:55.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Enough about me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SI9c83gQnzI/AAAAAAAAAFU/3ZXt-YDJC5g/s1600-h/mov_14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228499893161598770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SI9c83gQnzI/AAAAAAAAAFU/3ZXt-YDJC5g/s320/mov_14.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SI9c9KGKtxI/AAAAAAAAAFc/wey73-qtbdI/s1600-h/rem_22.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228499898152433426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SI9c9KGKtxI/AAAAAAAAAFc/wey73-qtbdI/s320/rem_22.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SI9c9SkpzvI/AAAAAAAAAFk/pq4YXpsUWWE/s1600-h/wp_148.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228499900427783922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SI9c9SkpzvI/AAAAAAAAAFk/pq4YXpsUWWE/s320/wp_148.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SI9c9lsHtzI/AAAAAAAAAFs/LGu5aXatrbM/s1600-h/wp_171.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228499905559377714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SI9c9lsHtzI/AAAAAAAAAFs/LGu5aXatrbM/s320/wp_171.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SI9c9h1TNmI/AAAAAAAAAF0/2gaHhvhPI2U/s1600-h/tha_16.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228499904524138082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SI9c9h1TNmI/AAAAAAAAAF0/2gaHhvhPI2U/s320/tha_16.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I saw this on another blog and it cracked me up. So you go to this site &lt;a href="http://www.someecards.com/"&gt;http://www.someecards.com/&lt;/a&gt; and pick five cards that describe you. :) Have fun! Careful, some are a little raunchy. ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3809105218073913049-7940206252431173372?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/7940206252431173372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=7940206252431173372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/7940206252431173372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/7940206252431173372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/07/enough-about-me.html' title='Enough about me...'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SI9c83gQnzI/AAAAAAAAAFU/3ZXt-YDJC5g/s72-c/mov_14.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-4980166915709927970</id><published>2008-06-20T23:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T23:40:29.569-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Helen Hunt needs to leave my books alone!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SFyeFaoyheI/AAAAAAAAAFM/jAcV85VLyMY/s1600-h/thenshefound+me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214216284475131362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SFyeFaoyheI/AAAAAAAAAFM/jAcV85VLyMY/s320/thenshefound+me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay,so I picked up a book at Hastings last week. Yes even though I have a stack of books next to my bed that have YET to be read. Whatever. Anyway, I am really enjoying this book. It is called "Then She found me." by Elinor Lipman. Really good book. I am loving it, nice story, just enough fluff for summer. A dowdy woman has her biological mother show up, a loud mouth talk show host. And the cover says "Now a Major motion picture from THINKFilm". So I think...coool. I will read the book and then later this summer (or fall) this movie will come out and I will get to compare, cuz I love doing that). Or so I thought....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then I look up this movie on Internet Movie Database www.imdb.com (my all time favorite site for..."where have I seen her before? Lets look it up! HA! I told you she was from Buffy the Vampire Slayer!") And this movie came out in April already. Really? Never heard about it..let's see what the site says about the movie...oh..what is this about the plot? April's mother dies, her husband leaves and her biological mother show up....okay.. they stretched it a bit. In the book April was never married. Her mother dies, but shortly after her father and it was awhile ago...and her biological mother does show up, granted that is what the whole book is about...Hollywood! They always have to add stuff, I thought. But no, what does this say?? Helen Hunt who stars in the movie, is also directing! (A bit of a stretch since the book says April is a 36 year old schoolteacher..uh yeah, perfect casting there. Helen Hunt is so 36ish). Better Midler plays the mom, which works! Kewl! Plus Matthew Broderick is in it, which I thought, okay, he can play the librarian she starts dating, he is described as kinda dorky, and that works...then I see Colin Firth (YUM!) is in it too...who the hell could he be? Maybe her brother? Oh no, I see now, he is the "Love interest" the father of a student she starts dating. Really? Cuz in the book there is no father of a student. Grrrrr......&lt;br /&gt;Then I look on my book. Oh LOOK there is a quote from Ms. Hunt. "I've had a ten-year love affair with this story. Read it!" says Ms. Hunt.&lt;br /&gt;Really? A ten year love affair? So you directed the movie and then promptly changed the whole story of the book you have had a ten year love affair with? That is exactly what I would do too!&lt;br /&gt;Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't gotten to the end yet. The site said something about being dissapointed in the end of the movie. I am hoping it is because Helen-idiot-Hunt changed it. We will see...&lt;br /&gt;I never liked her anyway.&lt;br /&gt;Her forehead is just too fucking big.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-4980166915709927970?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/4980166915709927970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=4980166915709927970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/4980166915709927970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/4980166915709927970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/06/helen-hunt-needs-to-leave-my-books.html' title='Helen Hunt needs to leave my books alone!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SFyeFaoyheI/AAAAAAAAAFM/jAcV85VLyMY/s72-c/thenshefound+me.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-3986956369619165322</id><published>2008-06-08T21:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T14:17:27.798-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dog'/><title type='text'>Sewing room accessory</title><content type='html'>Guess what I got for my new sewing room!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SEy6psT8EbI/AAAAAAAAAEk/Qjnva3GhifE/s1600-h/L_16291_ottlite25f92.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209744094393012658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SEy6psT8EbI/AAAAAAAAAEk/Qjnva3GhifE/s200/L_16291_ottlite25f92.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No not that...I do need that but I didn't get it yet.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SEy6p1uB-LI/AAAAAAAAAEs/lGrrd0dWazA/s1600-h/L_19968_ArrowBertha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209744096918370482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SEy6p1uB-LI/AAAAAAAAAEs/lGrrd0dWazA/s200/L_19968_ArrowBertha.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would be nice but no, its this...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SEy6p0VCIoI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Say1XS_lvuE/s1600-h/daisy+and+me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209744096545088130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SEy6p0VCIoI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Say1XS_lvuE/s200/daisy+and+me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We named her Daisy. Daisy Que? actually.(Get it?? Que? Que?) Don'tcha just &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;lurve&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; them ears?? I have visions of her playing in my sewing room and watching me create wonderful works of fabric art.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe not...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SE2crCSaCQI/AAAAAAAAAFE/8rve88FWVzc/s1600-h/May+067.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SE2crCSaCQI/AAAAAAAAAFE/8rve88FWVzc/s200/May+067.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209992607099914498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looks guilty doesn't she? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SEy6qrx4TWI/AAAAAAAAAE8/vGtBqHCWC8U/s1600-h/May+052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209744111430028642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SEy6qrx4TWI/AAAAAAAAAE8/vGtBqHCWC8U/s200/May+052.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-3986956369619165322?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/3986956369619165322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=3986956369619165322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/3986956369619165322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/3986956369619165322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/06/sewing-room-accessory.html' title='Sewing room accessory'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SEy6psT8EbI/AAAAAAAAAEk/Qjnva3GhifE/s72-c/L_16291_ottlite25f92.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-8925537339300795408</id><published>2008-05-28T14:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T16:38:58.529-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mothers Day finally~</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SD3sjVNXAvI/AAAAAAAAAEc/rGNqMMcdqRE/s1600-h/May+063.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205576836042916594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SD3sjVNXAvI/AAAAAAAAAEc/rGNqMMcdqRE/s200/May+063.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here is how NOT to do Mother's day for your wife. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;First off, say "you are not &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;MY&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; mother, so why should I get you something??"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next after you pick yourself off of the floor, don't ask what the mother of your &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;three &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;children &lt;em&gt;(two of which weighed NINE pounds at birth!!)&lt;/em&gt; would want. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After numerous emails to you, ignore the link/hint your wife has sent you until she has to almost order it herself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then never recieving the crucial ring sizer, do not email the company to say it hasn't arrived. Wait until the Saturday before Mother's Day to announce that it probably won't be getting there on time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then be sure to NOT buy a card or anything for your wife. Also be sure not to take the kids out to get her anything, or remind them to get her anything. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Make sure to ask repeatedly why your wife is upset on Mothers' Day and why she always has such high expectations. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do make dinner for her at least. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Go ahead and let her send the email to the company to get the ring sizer resent. After it arrives, let her email them again so they know the size and can send the ring. Let her check the email on your account to see when it will arrive. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And really,NO REALLY do the following...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When it gets here, let her unwrap it, and put it on her finger. Tell her what a wonderful Mom she is and you are an ass, but you love her. Give her a hug. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And of course let her blog about it. And don't say a word....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&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/3809105218073913049-8925537339300795408?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/8925537339300795408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=8925537339300795408' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8925537339300795408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8925537339300795408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/05/mothers-day-finally.html' title='Mothers Day finally~'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SD3sjVNXAvI/AAAAAAAAAEc/rGNqMMcdqRE/s72-c/May+063.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-4326839564117463861</id><published>2008-04-25T23:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T00:20:56.919-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am soooo old..no wait I am pretty young!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SC00Z-OpBZI/AAAAAAAAAEU/n6hVK5Eq7yo/s1600-h/zits-20040509.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200870765488571794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 256px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 98px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="119" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SC00Z-OpBZI/AAAAAAAAAEU/n6hVK5Eq7yo/s200/zits-20040509.jpg" width="285" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am constantly feeling conflicted like this. I think part of it is my job. &lt;em&gt;And the fact I live with teenagers which makes you insane on a daily basis.&lt;/em&gt; There are days I look in the mirror and cannot believe the trails time has left on my face. And other days I am amazed that this is what 41 looks like, cuz it looks a lot like 31 to me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But then there are people in my life who make me feel one way or another...so here is my list of what makes me feel old and what makes me feel young. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am soo old that...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...most of the women I work with are young enough to be my daughters.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...no one at work gets my jokes except the doctors..and they just think I am weird. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...only men over 50 flirt with me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...men under 30 call me Ma'am and have no qualms about showing me their inflamed genital areas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...everyone at work is pregnant...for the first time... and I have to remember to not scare them with my birth stories. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...I stop my daughter from going out wearing a long t-shirt, shorts and high heels. (gawd! )&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...if I work two night shifts in a row I will get a migraine and it will be two days before I can look at the sun again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...my idea of a great weekend is when I get to sleep in and watch some great movies, not getting drunk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But then even at work, I am reminded just how young I really am. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...I am so young ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...I still have all my teeth!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;... most of my patients think I am so young and cute and call me sweetie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;... that I am the youngest member of my quilt group.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;... that my parents are still alive and able to annoy me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...people think my teenagers are stepchildren, from my husbands first marriage. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...I only have to work for 19 more years and then I can retire. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So today is a young day. :) Well see what tomorrow brings, I guess it is really all about perspective. And whether your daughter rolls her eyes at something you say or do..or your son pats you on the head when you try to talk to him. &lt;sigh&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&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/3809105218073913049-4326839564117463861?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/4326839564117463861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=4326839564117463861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/4326839564117463861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/4326839564117463861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-am-soooo-oldno-wait-i-am-pretty-young.html' title='I am soooo old..no wait I am pretty young!!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/SC00Z-OpBZI/AAAAAAAAAEU/n6hVK5Eq7yo/s72-c/zits-20040509.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-2108915408001891840</id><published>2008-04-14T14:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T14:40:53.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More ramblings...</title><content type='html'>Yeesh, I have't written in awhile. Not that anyone is reading anyway...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the house thing is all settled. We are not moving. We are building an addition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got the money, barely. What a chore that is! Especially in this wonderful economy. A few years ago they were throwing money at us to refinance, or tap into our equity. Now it is a totally different story. Having to listen to chirpy girls named Tiffany or Amy tell us our house isn't worth shit is such fun! But we still got it. And I don't think we will be going bankrupt anytime soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the great part about the new room is I will finally have a sewing room instead of a sewing corner! I am so excited! We are kicking Bear to the new room, and I get his old one. Which was our very small couldn't fit a dining room table in it-dining room. But perfect size for a sewing room. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still working. What can I say? Work is work. Same old shit. Our management leaves much to be desired though. Is it too much to ask for your manager to know your name? To have them NOT call at 9:30 am after you have worked &lt;em&gt;twelve hours&lt;/em&gt; until 6:30am! There could be a chance, however slim, you may be sleeping! Even though I don't answer the phone I grow irritated at each voice mail asking me to call them back "as soon as I can!" And them not realizing that it might be around 3 or 4 in the afternoon before I can. And they will have left for the day...leading them to call again the next morning.. and leave another message...and complaining that I don't return their calls....GRRRRRRRRRRRR......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that it is going well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay tell me why I am obsessed with this dress??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s93.photobucket.com/albums/l56/CheriHelms/?action=view&amp;amp;current=B4790.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i93.photobucket.com/albums/l56/CheriHelms/B4790.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not like I have anywhere to wear it. But I must have it!&lt;br /&gt;And actually make it!&lt;br /&gt;I swear!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh shut up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-2108915408001891840?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/2108915408001891840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=2108915408001891840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/2108915408001891840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/2108915408001891840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/04/more-ramblings.html' title='More ramblings...'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-5881454691699076875</id><published>2008-03-14T23:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T23:50:07.449-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday fun!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R9twyKnu4II/AAAAAAAAAEE/BFNKUDp3aTc/s1600-h/friday109.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177856203739291778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R9twyKnu4II/AAAAAAAAAEE/BFNKUDp3aTc/s200/friday109.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So yeah it's friday. Not that my week is very normal. I only work two days a week but this week I feel like I spent the whole week at the hospital. Ugh. I worked Sunday, Wednesday and Thursday and had a staff meeting on Tuesday. Our workweek is Monday to Sunday so that is why it was messed up this week. Bleh. Working nights screws me up bigtime. But I just cant' see me getting up at the buttcrack of dawn. Yeah, just won't happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Work is getting very annoying, annoying patients, co-workers, doctors etc...I just feel annoyed to be there anymore. Then add a boss who doesn't know your name and well...trouble is in our small town there is not a hell of a lot of options to work. But I am sure this too shall pass...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As for the house in Bisbee, we went and looked at it again. Yee god! It needs a ton of work. So....I was okay to let that dream go. Matt and I finally actually TALKED about it and decided to just stay here for awhile longer. We haven't really found a house we &lt;em&gt;Love&lt;/em&gt; yet so we will wait. Let the kids stay in one place and move later. So that is the plan this week. We are talking pools and sunrooms now...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And this week is Spring Break which I took off...hope to just hang out with the kiddos and play around. Maybe do the RenFen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-5881454691699076875?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/5881454691699076875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=5881454691699076875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/5881454691699076875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/5881454691699076875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/03/friday-fun.html' title='Friday fun!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R9twyKnu4II/AAAAAAAAAEE/BFNKUDp3aTc/s72-c/friday109.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-8145075516871786181</id><published>2008-02-23T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T22:42:03.988-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams come true??</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R8EDbjKOH6I/AAAAAAAAAD8/s3CGSeO8XBc/s1600-h/puppy-sleeping-in-peace.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170417619027500962" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R8EDbjKOH6I/AAAAAAAAAD8/s3CGSeO8XBc/s200/puppy-sleeping-in-peace.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been dreaming of the Victorian house in Bisbee every night. I can see me living there, tending my roses (that I will be planting under the front window), cooking in my kitchen (all new since there isn't much of a kitchen now..), sewing in my sewing room, (the oldest can have the one bedroom guest house until she moves away...&lt;sniff&gt;...), reading in my comfy chair in the huge living room...Or on my front porch...le sigh..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So does this mean it will be my house someday?? Like this summer? It is in our price range, minus all the renovations that is, it's still for sale, and as far as I know, no one else is interested or it would be under contract no? hmmmmm...so who believes in the power of positive thinking?? I do! I do!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Only snag I can think of is that none of my children are excited about the idea of moving to Bisbee. The boys are adamant about it. I can't say I blame them. All their friends are here, they can walk to stuff, like the Shell station etc...but there is tons of stuff within walking distance at this new house. And they would get used to it. Eventually.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And..... the Mom guilt rears its ugly head. We &lt;em&gt;should&lt;/em&gt; just stay here and put in a pool, fix up the place, keep the kids in the same place. Or sell this place and just get a bigger house in town, maybe with a pool, a bigger place where if they had some friends over there would be another room for us old parents to hang out, But still be here and within ear or eye shot. But for how long do I have to put my dreams on hold to keep my kids content? 5 years? 10 years? The youngest is only 9 (going on 10). I know they grow so fast, believe me I know! (See previous note on oldest living in guest house). No one is going to want to move 5 years from now either..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really don't have to justify this to anyone. I think because my father keeps tsk-tsking this decision, I feel I must. I know he is just worried we are going to get in over our heads, or how much easier our retirement will be if we stay in the same house..etc. Like I want to be thinking of my retirement right now. we are okay financially, even with a house payment. I do see his points. Which is probably why I am torn about this. Or am I? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean I am dreaming of my house every night..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;..and they are really good dreams...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean really good... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wake up smiling..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which isn't a bad thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&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/3809105218073913049-8145075516871786181?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/8145075516871786181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=8145075516871786181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8145075516871786181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8145075516871786181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/02/dreams-come-true.html' title='Dreams come true??'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R8EDbjKOH6I/AAAAAAAAAD8/s3CGSeO8XBc/s72-c/puppy-sleeping-in-peace.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-3969673241040939814</id><published>2008-02-19T22:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T22:51:07.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I couldn't resist...</title><content type='html'>So I ended up going to JoAnn's. Got my patterns, and was a bit dissapointed to find about four of the ones I had written down were not there..poor me. So when I got home I went and grabbed all my boxes of patterns. And since I got two more pattern boxes at JoAnn's I was going to organize them all. Ignoring the gasps from my husband (we won't even talk about all the crap he collects cluttering up my house), I spread them all out and started sorting...kids patterns, pet patterns, skirts, tops, dresses, dolls-my personal weakness, stuffed animals, pillows, purses, totebags, houseware, seasonal crafts, costumes...and...Uh...I think that was it? Anyway, after all that sorting, and organizing I found the patterns that weren't there at JoAnn's.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;I already had them.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, whatever...at least now they are organized.&lt;br /&gt;So there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-3969673241040939814?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/3969673241040939814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=3969673241040939814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/3969673241040939814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/3969673241040939814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-couldnt-resist.html' title='I couldn&apos;t resist...'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-6118350493676957502</id><published>2008-02-15T23:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T23:50:19.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All better now...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R7aHlTKOH5I/AAAAAAAAAD0/cgpcu4MZyWs/s1600-h/simplicityskirt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167466697322274706" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R7aHlTKOH5I/AAAAAAAAAD0/cgpcu4MZyWs/s200/simplicityskirt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorry if that last post was a little TMI..but I am feeling much better now. Thank the gods for antibiotics and cranberry juice! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy V-Day to everyone! Hubbie did well this year, got me chocolate covered Strawberries, which are really quite filling...thought I would sit down and eat the whole thing, but it is taking me awhile...&lt;br /&gt;It's been a hectic week, worked two days in a row, and that is tough on my old body.My back especially. I creak and groan and pop all morning long... I still feel a little groggy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hubbie is playing WOW and the kids are in bed.....So I have been spending the whole evening looking at Victorian houses online. Oooooooh I am in lurve! There are so many wonderful ones out there. Cheap too! I would just have to move to the south or the North. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nothing major, but I seem to be a bit obsessed. I ordered a catalog of Victorian homes for sale in the US. There is $10 well spent...It will be fun to drool over I am sure. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I tried to be bad and order a bunch of fabric online, actually I did order it, just turns out everything I ordered is on Backorder!! Yeesh! I hope it actually comes in. :P So I sorta spent $60...maybe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Haven't seen the daughter much lately, I worked when she was home, and she is working when I was home. Maybe tomorrow. I am hoping to corral her and go see a chick flick together. I still have "Across the Universe" in my DVD player. I bought it when it came out and have yet to watch it. Plus I just rented "The Jane Austin Book Club", another chick flick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Took the wee boy to see "Spiderwick" today. It was really good, just a bit too fast. I would have liked too see more of the fantasy creatures...guess I will have to read the books now. Still have three books from the library to read, the last Earlene Fowler....the new Laurell K. Hamilton, and a weird book about a woman trying all these self help books. They all look good, I need to make time to start reading. Work has actually been too busy lately...go figure. Hopefully this week. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this weekend I am trying to resist the urge to go to Tucson to JoAnn fabrics, they are having a sale!!! What is calling me is patterns. It is not like I don't have four boxes full already. Still there is something about getting a new pattern....and the thread is on sale.. I do need some yellow..and purple...Maybe Sunday? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-6118350493676957502?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/6118350493676957502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=6118350493676957502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/6118350493676957502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/6118350493676957502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/02/all-better-now.html' title='All better now...'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R7aHlTKOH5I/AAAAAAAAAD0/cgpcu4MZyWs/s72-c/simplicityskirt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-1949859489082499070</id><published>2008-02-06T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T11:15:07.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pee Pee and whining...</title><content type='html'>I had noticed my pee smelled horrible a few days ago. I thought it was just something I ate, or I didn't drink enough. Nope, I have a UTI. For those non nurse types it is a Urinary Tract Infection or Bladder infection. I have to pee all the time, nothing comes out, it hurts and I am all achy. Called my doctor but turns out my doctor doesn't accept my insurance. Long story but I had a doctor who left his practice and someone took over his practice, only the new guy doesn't take my insurance. Asshole. (&lt;em&gt;Guess it wasn't that long of a story&lt;/em&gt;). So today I got to go check out the new Urgent Care that just opened in our rinky dink town. The trouble with working at a local hospital in a small town is that I know everyone in healthcare and they know me. So the guy taking my vital signs was the old x-ray tech at the hospital, we played "Hey do you know....??" for a few minutes. My doctor was the hospitalist before we got the stupid residents, and I am pretty sure the lady next to me was a patient at some point.&lt;br /&gt;     Now I have to wait an hour for the stupid pharmacy to give me my good meds. I am hoping husband will be home soon so I can send him over there to pick them up. I am already in my sweats, got movies in the DVD player and got my cranberry juice. See, I can't go anywhere....&lt;br /&gt;I think I will call my Mom so I can get an "ahh poor baby!" Where's my blankie?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-1949859489082499070?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/1949859489082499070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=1949859489082499070' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/1949859489082499070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/1949859489082499070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/02/pee-pee-and-whining.html' title='Pee Pee and whining...'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-6289254103725449180</id><published>2008-02-04T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T22:13:21.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it just me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R6fv1NPFGyI/AAAAAAAAADs/oszrkDDKQGU/s1600-h/nest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163359195168578338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R6fv1NPFGyI/AAAAAAAAADs/oszrkDDKQGU/s200/nest.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I am still obsessing over houses. We are still in love with the house in Bisbee..it is still for sale. (yippeee). We also found another house in town that the kids like, (of course, since they don't have to move away from thier friends). It is weird, we all really like it and it is very modern! I think it was built in 2001, which is pretty new for us. Living in a 1967 house and dreaming of a 1909 house, for us to even &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;like&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; a house from this century is pretty good. AND it is a Santa Fe style too which I normally hate......Weird. The price is right, it has been empty for over a year, so chances are we can get a pretty good deal on it. So why aren't we moving???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh yeah. We have to sell this stinky house first. Or at least rent it out. Which I don't know that we can do either. There is a lot to do to this house first if we were to put it on the market. Fix the wreck of a backyard, paint inside and out...fix the hole above the stove. Well, maybe that isn't so much...so we will do all that and then see if we still want to move. Cuz we are thinking if we do all that and then maybe put a pool in, we might just stay. Maybe. Whatever. Someday we will make up our minds....by then the kids will be gone and we will be moving into a retirement community. Cuz everytime we talk about moving into a "bigger" house &lt;em&gt;someone&lt;/em&gt; always has to say "then all your kids will move out and you will want to downsize to a smaller house!" Gee, thanks! We are only 40 years old (or so!) and my youngest is 9 so maybe you can not charge ahead 10 years and leave me all alone and sad with an empty nest thankyouverymuch! hmph! Jesus!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I spent the day making quilt blocks, and it took me all friggin day to do two blocks! Jeez! Is it just me? Am I special? I had planned to finish up a UFO I had started about 6 years ago, I needed two extra blocks to replace two so-so ones I had. I had to pick the fabric, iron it, cut it out and sew it together...Then I planned on putting it all together and maybe even getting started on quilting it today. So of course I just got the two blocks done and that was it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, I was doing laundry at the same time, had to go to a stupid meeting for work, make dinner and keep all the animals happy this afternoon. But still!! Two blocks?! Jeez...I guess I just need some more practice. &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/3809105218073913049-6289254103725449180?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/6289254103725449180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=6289254103725449180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/6289254103725449180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/6289254103725449180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/02/is-it-just-me.html' title='Is it just me?'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R6fv1NPFGyI/AAAAAAAAADs/oszrkDDKQGU/s72-c/nest.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-6167416263565597472</id><published>2008-01-06T22:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T21:01:56.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R5QY1EmVrZI/AAAAAAAAADk/QSccTyeVzIg/s1600-h/870.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157774773292739986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R5QY1EmVrZI/AAAAAAAAADk/QSccTyeVzIg/s320/870.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Soooo it's a little late...sorry. It has been a busy couple of weeks, or months, however you want to look at it. Survived the holidays, sort of. Everyone was sharing a cold, which I managed to dodge amazingly..Got some great books for Christmas, I am reading &lt;em&gt;Eat, Pray, Love&lt;/em&gt; right now. Very good. I am on the Pray part. Makes me want to take up Yoga. And Tai Chi. It would probably be a good idea, but I doubt I will get motivated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Matt's birthday was this weekend. He is so happy with the littlest shit. All those years of his parents ignoring him has taken a toll. Even this year he got a card from his Dad nothing from Mom. She didn't send xmas gifts or a card either but that is another matter...I got him a gift certificate to buy some cowboy boots. Now if I can get him into a hat....hubba hubba...He also got some new Geek t-shirts, a WOW and a D&amp;amp;D. If you don't know what those stand for, be glad, it means you have a life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So Matt and I have looked at a few houses in the last couple weeks. I think we are getting serious about moving. The only problem is, we want to move into an old victorian, or craftsman home and that means moving to Bisbee. And the kids would rather die than move to Bisbee. The two older ones keep stating they "WILL NOT MOVE TO BISBEE!" I didn't realize that was an option to leave them somewhere and move. We can get a waaaay smaller house! Cool! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay. Back to reality. Oldest girl will be graduating this year, so she really isn't a problem, she is probably going to community college and can do that from Bisbee. Middle boy is 15 so we have 3 more years of him, at least! I don't think he can go to his same High School if we move, and I don't feel right about lying about our address so he can go here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Matt and I even looked at a few houses in town that were newer and bigger, but...meh...they just don't do anything for us, well mostly me. I have always been drawn to the old victorian style houses. Plus in all the new ones are SMALL! We looked at one that had a living room that could fit into my living room now. Yeesh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We might just stay here and put a pool in and an Arizona room. Probably be cheaper, don'tcha think?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/3809105218073913049-6167416263565597472?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/6167416263565597472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=6167416263565597472' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/6167416263565597472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/6167416263565597472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R5QY1EmVrZI/AAAAAAAAADk/QSccTyeVzIg/s72-c/870.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-4651966385362578546</id><published>2007-11-25T23:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T23:32:43.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving family fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R0poWXQ4eGI/AAAAAAAAADU/KrXjKjIuMjk/s1600-h/thanksgiving+family.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137033058380707938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R0poWXQ4eGI/AAAAAAAAADU/KrXjKjIuMjk/s320/thanksgiving+family.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So since I worked on Wednesday night, we had to postpone our Thanksgiving to Friday. There was no way in hell I was going to work twelve hours and then throw a feast for everyone on NO sleep. So I came home, after a really BORING night, slept until one or so and then hung out with the family. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate my family. Well just my kids.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;They were all buttchapped (I love that phrase), because there was no feast, and their friends weren't available because they all had &lt;em&gt;real families&lt;/em&gt; and were having their feast that day &lt;em&gt;like you are supposed to!&lt;/em&gt; Then oldest son had the gall to ask me to take him out for a cheeseburger, he just couldn't believe me that nothing was open!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And to top all this off no one cleaned the house, even though I had asked them to, since we were having a million people over for dinner on Friday. So I got up and started cleaning and pretty much yelled at everyone. They love me so much. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friday went okay, families are so weird. My Dad and his wife came over early, they were up in Phoenix with my stepsister. Then some friends of ours came, but my stepsister didn't arrive until almost four. Just in time to eat and then go back to the hotel. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The food was awesome, even though idiot husband actually &lt;em&gt;asked his friend to bring a HAM!! &lt;/em&gt;"Oh hey, come on over on Friday for our Thanksgiving and hey, could you bring the main course? Gee thanks!" &lt;em&gt;Jesus Christ!! IDIOT. &lt;/em&gt;Just for the record I did cook a 20lb turkey!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next day we had rain and icky cold weather, so our outdoor activities were put on hold. We just stayed home and ate leftovers, and played board games. Still no stepsister and family...apparently they were tired and took a nap. All day. They finally arrived around five, then we went out for Korean. And then they went back to the hotel again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday morning and the parents are leaving..hugs all around. Buh-bye! My youngest is crying very upset they are leaving...turns out he is sick which made him more whiny, poor baby. Wait around for an hour or two for my stepsister to come over and say goodbye..no show. At about noon I figured it wasn't going to happen and finally made plans for the day. So I am assuming they left and are home in Phoenix again. I heard they were stopping at IKEA on the way home. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tried to talk to my Dad about my idiot brother. I never talk to my brother unless it is his or his wife's birthday or Xmas. Then I get an email with a list on what to buy them. Which would be okay, since I have &lt;em&gt;No fucking idea what to get these people&lt;/em&gt; but thier number one item, &lt;em&gt;every fucking time&lt;/em&gt; is ....are you ready??......CASH. Yes, please just send me money so I can buy...fill in the blank....shoes, a camera, an iPod etc...&lt;em&gt;wtf???&lt;/em&gt; The worst part is for years they made waaay more money then my E6 husband supporting a SAHM and three kids, so us sending them the $20 we were going to spend on a present is just fucking ridiculous. Grrrrr....Dad didn't have any great ideas either. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am ready to have my house back, just veg on the couch, lay around in my woobie pants and eat cheetos and M&amp;amp;M's-peanut M&amp;amp;M's of course- thankyouverymuch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-4651966385362578546?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/4651966385362578546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=4651966385362578546' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/4651966385362578546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/4651966385362578546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2007/11/thanksgiving-family-fun.html' title='Thanksgiving family fun'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/R0poWXQ4eGI/AAAAAAAAADU/KrXjKjIuMjk/s72-c/thanksgiving+family.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-8656665219617267536</id><published>2007-11-13T09:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T09:19:58.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Remodeling fun...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/RznLvrqwvOI/AAAAAAAAADM/_uYeS0CT1gM/s1600-h/bath+vanity.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132357270401760482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/RznLvrqwvOI/AAAAAAAAADM/_uYeS0CT1gM/s320/bath+vanity.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well after we recovered from the mess and noise of the workmen putting in a new furnace/AC unit, we are doing the bathroom floors. Oh joy. We of course scheduled it after we had our 17 year olds birthday party, so there was that mess on top of it, and bodies laying all around. (Sleeping bodies, everyone survived). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apparently we did this all out of order. We just had our handyman, Ray, put in two new toilets and vanities and now we had to have Ray come back and take out the vanity in the masterbath that he just put in because the tile needs to go underneath it. Just because we picked one of those old fashioned-looking vanities that has claw feet, it sits up off the floor about four inches. (The cats love it!) See...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So he took out the vanity, and then the tile guy took out the new toilet. Ugh...but now we have new tile in my bathroom. All I have to do today is paint the bathroom before Ray comes back tomorrow and puts the vanity BACK in. Ca-ching...yes we had to pay for the install and the uninstall and the reinstall. Oh well...But after being banned from our masterbath for a night, and having to use my main bathroom, and shower, I realize we need a new bathtub and tile in there too. Our tub is green, as I may have mentioned. ahem. I was hoping to just reglaze it, but it is just too disgusting. The tub feels wobbly, and the tile is cracking, the plug has never worked. I think we are going to have to pull it all out. Which will probably mess up my new tile floor. Of course. Is there a book I forgot to read about all this?? I mean, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I study&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, I spend every Saturday night watching people buy those ridiculously expensive California houses and then put in the price of my little house and sell it for a million or more. I see how easy it is to remodel, it only takes an hour to do the whole house! &lt;sigh&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But hopefully, after the bathroom tile is done, we will be done for awhile. A little while...a small while..... Christmas is coming so at least until January....&lt;eg&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/3809105218073913049-8656665219617267536?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/8656665219617267536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=8656665219617267536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8656665219617267536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8656665219617267536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2007/10/more-remodeling-fun.html' title='More Remodeling fun...'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/RznLvrqwvOI/AAAAAAAAADM/_uYeS0CT1gM/s72-c/bath+vanity.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-1993359870742551573</id><published>2007-11-07T10:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T10:45:35.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am not a knitter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/RzH5gIGPOJI/AAAAAAAAADE/XtsHi5ZkQLE/s1600-h/knitting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130155780876482706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/RzH5gIGPOJI/AAAAAAAAADE/XtsHi5ZkQLE/s200/knitting.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So why do I spend my day and most of my evening reading knitting blogs?? My fav's are women who are obsessesed with knitting, these women are wonderful, hilarous and real! People I would want to hang out with. But I dont' knit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Actually I crochet, which for some of them is like being a &lt;em&gt;traitor....&lt;/em&gt;I have tried to knit, I took a class when we were in Italy ( like how I just dropped that in there all non-chalant, I lived in Italy!), but I couldn't get to the follow up class and I was a weird non social nerd back then. (as opposed to the wild social butterfly I am now! snort) So I didn't get to learn it that well. I have a CD ROM on how to knit but I just don't seem to find the time to sit in front of the computer and learn to knit. I can however find the time to sit in front of the computer and read all these knitting blogs. Go figure. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I still can't find the time to sew either. I have to make two flannel pants for my Mom for xmas, and I got a new kit to make a quilt that is gorgeous, and I am actually using the bag the kit came in as a purse these days. Not very crafty, huh?? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today is filled with cleaning my filthy house, a teacher/parent conference (oh joy!!), a department meeting for work and work this evening... so no craftyness happening today. Maybe after I wake up tomorrow...?? And after I read my knitting blogs... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, now it is 10:30 and I am still in my PJ's and I really need to get started on my day .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later babes~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-1993359870742551573?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/1993359870742551573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=1993359870742551573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/1993359870742551573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/1993359870742551573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-am-not-knitter.html' title='I am not a knitter'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/RzH5gIGPOJI/AAAAAAAAADE/XtsHi5ZkQLE/s72-c/knitting.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-1228353217021771530</id><published>2007-10-20T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T19:15:27.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Long week....</title><content type='html'>So I worked Sat, Sun, Tues, and Wednesday, which means I slept all day Thursday and recovered on Friday so Today is when I finally felt human again. I might need to rethink this nightshift stuff...Work is going well, I like my patients, most of them seem to like me. My coworkers are pretty cool, my best bud works there and we try to coordinate our schedules, hasn't worked out very well recently. But I have only been there for six months and I am starting to get burned out. It is the same old, same old everyday. One reason I worked this floor is for the variety. We get all kinds of patients, infants to grannies...etc..but the computer charting is boring, and I get sick of that routine. We'll see, I think I will just be keeping my eyes open for a new postion.&lt;br /&gt;The kids have Homecoming tonight. I am waiting for my daughter to come back from getting dressed and show off her outfit to me. She doesn't have a date, they are just going in a group. (Something I still don't understand, the girl is gorgeous and that is not just me saying that!! I see guys tripping all over themselves when we are out in public....and it ain't me they are looking at, that is for damn sure!) But she is fine with it and I will live. On the other hand, her younger brother is going to his first dance, the girl is older and she is picking him up...and we are waiting.....I finally convinced him to take a damn shower! He was just going to put his dress shirt on over his t-shirt and jeans. Got I hate 15 year old boys. And I am sure I will hate 16 year old boys too. Ugh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No creative crafting happening either. I was going to sew tonight but there are too many UFO's staring at me on my desk and I feel too much guilt to start a new one. Even though the lucious new fat quarters I got from Keepsake are calling my name....well they are simutanously calling me and trembling in fear that I will actually cut into them and screw them all up....I can't tell which is louder. So for now I will leave them alone. hmph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baseball is STILL on so dh is in the bedroom yelling at the TV, and I am out here watching my flippy shows on TLC. How is it they can gut a kitchen and get new cabinets and counters etc for around $5000 and it cost me $12000???? Did I get that screwed?? I didn't even get corian or granite countertops. F*ckers!  Well I will post pics of my beautiful children if they ever finally LEAVE for this stupid dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciao for now~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-1228353217021771530?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/1228353217021771530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=1228353217021771530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/1228353217021771530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/1228353217021771530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2007/10/long-week.html' title='Long week....'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-826719429986742513</id><published>2007-10-10T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T20:46:32.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah Me! </title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My neck is still killing me, finally resorted to sleeping with a heating pad under my neck and tossing my old flat pillow on the floor and sleeping with one stupid feather pillow. Now it only hurts when I try to move to fast or something. Like when someone calls my name. Which thankfully doesn't happen all that often.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I have been off work for a week and I am trying to get some stuff done. I actually finished a quilt top!!! Oh yeah. Oh yeah. Oh yeah. I rock! Here is a pic. It is a fall quilt, those are fall leaves in the multiprint part ..(with my crappy camera, and with no one to help me hold it up)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119913674145810562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/Rw2WXDQgSII/AAAAAAAAAA8/YsrsNFfOs4Q/s320/quilts+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Isn't it purty???? I am sending it off to be quilted. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For a few reasons: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. It might get done by Christmas &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. I really, really suck at quilting. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. I can totally afford it now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. No really, I really suck at quilting. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am trying to finish up some of my UFO's. I still have to sew the label on a charity quilt. Finish hand quilting a few more blocks on my cheater "spring" quilt, finish crocheting my afghan I started a few million years ago, and I am sure there are a few more thousand I haven't tallied ......don't want to get too overwhelmed just yet, kwim?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Started painting eldest boy's room today, took two gallons of primer to cover up that hideous blue crap that was on the walls, (and probably has been on those walls for the last 39 years). I left boy and his friend to finish up while I picked up youngest boy and got some groceries. Which means of course that I get to finish it up tomorrow. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Work called today, offering me double time to come in tonight. I stupidly said no. Then wished I said yes. I thought my family might want me home tonight, but since dh is on WOW, eldest boy is hanging with is friend, girl-child is off at someone's house playing Wii, and youngest boy is already in bed. &lt;sigh&gt; Could have been at work, making people feel better and making tons of money to pay for the new stupid furnace. But no, hear I sit, whining on here, watching shows I taped all week. (Yes &lt;em&gt;taped&lt;/em&gt;, I don't own a DVR or Tivo...are they the same thing?? Someday I hope....) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I might just turn this stupid laptop off and do some of this sewing I have been putting off...:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;night~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-826719429986742513?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/826719429986742513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=826719429986742513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/826719429986742513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/826719429986742513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2007/10/yeah-me.html' title='Yeah Me! &lt;OW&gt;'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/Rw2WXDQgSII/AAAAAAAAAA8/YsrsNFfOs4Q/s72-c/quilts+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-9159465969669266181</id><published>2007-10-02T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T20:21:08.378-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Carnival from Hell</title><content type='html'>Our town has an annual FunFest. The effing military puts it on. It is just a stupid carnival with crappy rides, and games all designed to part you with your money quickly. Of course my son had to go. In fact he wanted me to bring him and his best bud, so I heard about all week long and all weekend. Thankfully, we were busy for most of the weekend so I didnt' have to go. But by Sunday I ran out of excuses, so I made Mr. Arminasling go with me and we took the wee boy. (At this point his friend couldn't go.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't too crowded and not too hot, so not so bad so far...I bought some tickets for the rides. ($16 got you 18 tickets). And the wee boy and I headed over to &lt;em&gt;THE RIDE. &lt;/em&gt;It was an innocent looking ride, I used to ride a similiar ride at Marriots Great America when I was young, surely the wee boy could handle it, he is 9 already. For God's Sakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the link to &lt;em&gt;THE RIDE&lt;/em&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.amusementco.net/ridevideos.html" target="_top"&gt;www.amusementco.net/ridevideos.html&lt;/a&gt; it is called &lt;em&gt;The Orbiter. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116992919019314930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/RwM18uhV3vI/AAAAAAAAAA0/AiWoagosbtU/s320/orbiterbart.jpg" border="0" /&gt;We climbed right in. No Waiting. (Should have told me something right there....). And the ride started, round and round...and then, faster...faster...round and round...and now up in the air, and down, and round and round....and what is that, oh yes, it is my neck, straining to hold my head up...and now my head is being ripped the other way...and my neck is trying so hard to hold on... but it is not winning. And now my head is pushed back (by 2G's!!!) and I leave it there. The wee boy, is smiling and laughing and squeeling with joy. And I am trying not to cry and holding my lunch down.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thankfully the ride ends. I can't get the safety latch off so I stay in my seat waiting for the creepy carny to free me from this torture device. We get off the ride and I can barely turn my neck to look for the husband. He waves at us, and I can't lift my hand up above my head. The pain is intense. Wee boy waves for me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Needless to say, I didn't ride anymore rides that day. Wee boy was happy to go it alone, finding some school friends running wild at the fair to join him on the other evil rides. We follow behind and wave (well husband/father waves, I just smile) when appropriate. Thankfully his ride tickets run out and we run out of money so we go home to ice my neck and enjoy the rest of my week off. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Fucking Fun Fest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-9159465969669266181?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/9159465969669266181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=9159465969669266181' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/9159465969669266181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/9159465969669266181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2007/10/carnival-from-hell.html' title='The Carnival from Hell'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/RwM18uhV3vI/AAAAAAAAAA0/AiWoagosbtU/s72-c/orbiterbart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-895090992541434975</id><published>2007-09-30T20:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T20:22:19.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And now we have a cold..</title><content type='html'>So I ended up being called in that night. So I got to work a ten hour shift instead of a twelve, big whoop. Then got home, took everyone to work/school and then went back to sleep, where I was awoke at 11 by Mr. Arminasling to tell me I could sleep cuz he got a co-worker to take him to his appointment. Uh...not. This is how the appointment would go if he went alone..&lt;br /&gt;Dr. "How is it going?"&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Arminasling "Fine"&lt;br /&gt;Dr. "Okay. Great. See you in three weeks. Goodbye."&lt;br /&gt;And then Mr. Arminasling would ask me, when he could drive, if he could have had more medication, could he take his arm out of the sling etc..etc..etc..&lt;br /&gt;So I dragged my tired ass out of bed and took him to his appt. Then ran right back and went to work. Soooooooo much fun. NOT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week has been okay though, he did start driving (As long as he isn't on drugs), got new drugs(Darvacet), can move his arm around a bit, (three times a day actually),. etc..but now I have that tickle in the back of my throat and my eyes are goopy. I woke up this morning to a crusty eye. Yuck. And I just feel &lt;em&gt;Tired&lt;/em&gt; . Wonder why? (Insert extreme sarcastic tone here). I don't have time to be sick though, well, I guess I do, this week would be good, I don't go back to work until Thursday. I think I will still drink tons and rest this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did manage to finish another block on my cheater quilt and I am going to put together my fall top I started LAST summer. ahem. I swear.&lt;br /&gt;I met another quilter at a birthday party yesterday, she is kind of weird though, she uses fabric from her stash and actually finishes her quilts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;shudder &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I can hang out with someone like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-895090992541434975?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/895090992541434975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=895090992541434975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/895090992541434975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/895090992541434975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2007/09/and-now-we-have-cold.html' title='And now we have a cold..'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-352503909201990340</id><published>2007-09-25T12:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T20:19:32.048-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Remodeling is NOT fun....</title><content type='html'>As most everyone knows...and we are finding out. We got the new vanities in and the toilets, but of course that left more work to do. Seems when you take out a vanity it is stuck to the wall and unless your new vanity is the exact same size you are left with exposed drywall that hasn't been touched since 1968. Oh joy. And of course one wall next to my vanity has a huge hole in it. So it has been sitting there waiting for&lt;em&gt; someone&lt;/em&gt; to fix it.&lt;br /&gt;And since Matt had shoulder surgery last week and his arm is in a sling and he is doped up on Percocet, I guess that &lt;em&gt;someone is me.&lt;/em&gt; Only I have no fucking idea how to do that. And Matt's whining about his arm and lack of being able to do anything for himself has driven me over the edge. He can't drive yet either so I am working nights, coming home at 6:30am and then waking everyone up and taking them to school/work and then come home and crash. In between this fun I get to clean the house and cook dinner and anything and everything that needs to be done falls on me. Can you say STRESSED OUT!&lt;br /&gt;And if anyone lives with teenagers they know how much help they are. Right now I have one asleep on the couch, and the other whining about how he wants his icky girlfriend over after school tomorrow, which will not happen because I am taking Mr. Arminasling to his follow-up appointment. And no girls are allowed when the mommy is not home. I don't even want to think about it. ick.&lt;br /&gt;No sewing being done though, something about having a "sicky" home makes me feel guilty about sewing. Not that he would care if I was, he is drifting in and out of his percocet coma anyway. Just feel like I can't get into something when I am going to get called out of it at any minute. kwim?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The great news is that I got called off tonight. So now I don't have to rush to work, rush home take everyone to school/work and try to sleep for a few hours before I go take Matt to Tucson and then fly back for work again. (the flying back to work again will happen though).&lt;br /&gt; &lt;sigh&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-352503909201990340?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/352503909201990340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=352503909201990340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/352503909201990340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/352503909201990340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2007/09/remodeling-is-not-fun.html' title='Remodeling is NOT fun....'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-2903430840944324216</id><published>2007-09-08T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T22:43:38.854-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Remodeling fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/RuOAfkmLpjI/AAAAAAAAAAs/juPSfp1x2is/s1600-h/our+bathroom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108067682256397874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/RuOAfkmLpjI/AAAAAAAAAAs/juPSfp1x2is/s320/our+bathroom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/RuN_9kmLpiI/AAAAAAAAAAk/tc_pWG-AXck/s1600-h/bathroom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108067098140845602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/RuN_9kmLpiI/AAAAAAAAAAk/tc_pWG-AXck/s320/bathroom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As some of you know I have  (what I like to call) a &lt;em&gt;Vintage 1968&lt;/em&gt; home. We have already redone our kitchen and painted here and there..new lights etc... so tomorrow we are doing the bathrooms, and we finally learned our lesson about remodeling and we aren't doing it ourselves. Matt is too broke and cranky to do it and I am just too weak. (Physically I mean, I am too weak to lift a toilet, but I could kick your ass if I wanted to!) We got all our stuff at Lowe's last week. And then I found a guy to put it all in for us.  (Thank you Alishea!) The vanities and sinks and toilets, we aren't doing the tubs or showers just yet. (That is for another year, after I win the lotto I think, since I will have to rip out both existing baths.)  Here is a major &lt;strong&gt;Before&lt;/strong&gt; of our bathrooms...Check out the beautiful wallpaper. This one was pink and textured. The other one was blue daisies. Cute. I need to take a before tomorrow pic. These were when we moved in, and the vanities and sinks are the same, I spent a million hours peeling old wallpaper and repainting and we did put new mirrors and lights up. Actually it made a huge difference. But the sinks have to go, the faucets are cracked and the one sink is actually green! Ugh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So we got beautiful new ones now...but I realilzed I can't just put in new sinks and toilets, cuz when this is done I will need to get new floors. I have carpet in our master bath (yes I know, but I really like stepping out onto something warm after a shower, and hopefully Matt has had very good aim all this time!) The other bath has this hideous four inch tile in it. That has to go. Now I have a reason, since there will be about six inches of exposed flooring after the new vanity goes in. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OH BUT WAIT!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you old house. How did you know we were planning on spending a ton on the backyard and putting in new floors? Guess you wanted a new heating and cooling unit instead. Since you decided to start leaking all over my hallway. And fixing it would be worthless since it is about oh, I don't know, 40 years old and would just start falling apart anyway. Great timing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Guess the floors can wait. I hate being an adult. I like spending money on stupid stuff like books and fabric and cute tile and pretty dodads for my newly remodeled bathrooms. Not furnaces and A/C units. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe I could work a few extra shifts...the kids don't seem to miss me that much. And they like KFC for dinner better than my seasame chicken. &lt;sigh&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do we still have that chocolate cake?&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/3809105218073913049-2903430840944324216?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/2903430840944324216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=2903430840944324216' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/2903430840944324216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/2903430840944324216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2007/09/remodeling-fun.html' title='Remodeling fun'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/RuOAfkmLpjI/AAAAAAAAAAs/juPSfp1x2is/s72-c/our+bathroom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-5596672007319705831</id><published>2007-08-31T20:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T20:29:00.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still no sewing...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/RtjcCEmLphI/AAAAAAAAAAc/_C7Pven1E-M/s1600-h/felt+wee+folk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105072105776195090" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/RtjcCEmLphI/AAAAAAAAAAc/_C7Pven1E-M/s320/felt+wee+folk.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So the house turned out to be a dud. It actually needed more work than our (vintage 1968) house. So I guess we will be here for awhile longer. The pool sure was nice, though. &lt;g&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had big plans for my days off this week, there is a quilt that has been calling me to finish it, and a few others that are calling me to START them. Plus a few other million projects that I want to start. Nothing got done, I ended up with a migraine for two days and then had to clean my house...etc...etc..etc..I have great hopes for this weekend. lol We are supposed to work on the backyard and get something started there after a trip to Lowes to get some major shopping done. (There is a check from the government just burning a whole in our checking account.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I did manage to start one of the fairies from this book while I was watching season two of Weeds on DVD, aren't they cute?? I need to find some flesh colored paint for the head though, and do some embroidery for the cute little jacket. I think it looks easy?? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So pray for rain, then I will be stuck inside and possible get to sew. :) ha ha...&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/3809105218073913049-5596672007319705831?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/5596672007319705831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=5596672007319705831' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/5596672007319705831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/5596672007319705831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2007/08/still-no-sewing.html' title='Still no sewing...'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/RtjcCEmLphI/AAAAAAAAAAc/_C7Pven1E-M/s72-c/felt+wee+folk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-8085284316742653281</id><published>2007-08-21T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T19:42:30.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream home</title><content type='html'>Okay, so it wasn't like I was looking for a new home, just something I do for fun, browsing at home listings. So I found our dream home and it is actually affordable. Crazy. Four bedroom, two bath, pool AND spa, arizona room, workshop, block fence, garage. I need to see the inside but the outside so far is perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only a small snag, we would have to sell this house and it still has a lot of work to be done. I don't know, we might be able to rent it out...I think I am going to call the realtor tomorrow anyway though. I want to see the inside. If it is even half as wonderful as the outside. It's mine!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep your fingers crossed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-8085284316742653281?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/8085284316742653281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=8085284316742653281' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8085284316742653281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/8085284316742653281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2007/08/dream-home.html' title='Dream home'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3809105218073913049.post-651258450074963078</id><published>2007-08-20T19:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T19:43:01.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome!</title><content type='html'>Wow, my first blog. I am going to post my new projects, quilting and dollmaking, and whatever else I can accomplish. Hopefully that will include some yardwork. I just started working as an RN and am finally out of school so I will have finally have time to do some of my creative stuff. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3809105218073913049-651258450074963078?l=almostmarthas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/feeds/651258450074963078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3809105218073913049&amp;postID=651258450074963078' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/651258450074963078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3809105218073913049/posts/default/651258450074963078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://almostmarthas.blogspot.com/2007/08/welcome.html' title='Welcome!'/><author><name>Cheri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15454611293615144194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f08xpdRqD1A/S3ngmIkQQzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/AlZMx8fmTwc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
