tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36785247284494143952024-03-13T12:57:49.557-04:00Life, Love, and CakeFinding life's perfect recipe...A young woman's relocated life, her goals of keeping family traditions alive, and a little bit of wifely duties in between.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.comBlogger116125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-4119640515441057062016-08-20T00:37:00.000-04:002016-08-20T01:39:09.231-04:00Happy Memories Only?<div>
Long story short, my goal since August 19, 2010 has been to carry on my dad's memory. To keep him alive as much as possible, specifically for the benefit of my children. I never got to meet two of my four grandparents, and that has always been so sad to me. I never wanted this type of absence for my kids. So far I've done what I would consider a decent job of still involving my dad in our lives. Pointing out songs on the radio that he loved and food that was his favorite, and reciting things he would've said in the moment. However, a few months ago, after recounting another "Grandpa J" story through stifled tears to my three year old, he replied very matter-of-factly, "Mommy, I don't like Grandpa J". </div>
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My heart was broken. How could a three year old be so devastatingly mean? Fortunately, a deep conversation with him made me realize something key: When I talk about my dad, I'm usually on the verge of tears. What child wants to see their mom cry? And whoever's making them cry MUST be mean. That's how three-year-olds think.</div>
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There began my mission to carry on his memory in a light more fitting of who my dad actually was. Fun and clever. He certainly wasn't someone who made his kids cry all the time, so why am I portraying him as if he did? Instead, I need to make my son CRAVE knowing more about him. To make my kids wish, in the least upsetting way possible, that they had gotten to know my dad while he was alive. Because lord knows they would be obsessed with him if he were here.</div>
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The biggest example I can give of this has been my effort to put forth the love I used to give my dad, into my kids. Recently, something reminded me of my dad and I said something along the lines of, "I wish he was here to see that." And an idea was born. I quickly followed up with "You know what? If my dad were here, I would hug him sooooo tight and sooooo long. Wanna see how I would hug my daddy if I could?" I then proceeded to hug my son as if he was my father. Specifically, how I would hug him after this six-year, no-end-in-sight hiatus. Who wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that? It was so beyond cathartic for me, a great way for my son to see how much I loved my dad (he loved that amount of love), and not one bit sad. It was refreshing. (I highly recommend!)</div>
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There are other examples, but essentially, each time I end a Grandpa J story with "he's so cool, right?" I'm trying to keep the tears out of it for a while. That's not to say I won't cry. Heck, I broke down several times on this sixth-year anniversary. And that's ok. I want my kids to know it's okay to miss someone so much it hurts, because that's how hard they should love. But for the most part, love is happy and powerfully rejuvenating. So that's how we talk about him now.</div>
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Last night, a few months after his Grandpa J apprehension began, my son asked, "Mommy, how do our cuddles get to heaven?" and my heart was repaired! <b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></div>
Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-35824119806704264392016-07-13T16:07:00.000-04:002016-07-13T16:07:11.064-04:00Presents From My Dad<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvLvPhImGYh4tmH374Xp_DEZc3c_r_ONQwAx0Ta6LOGkJYK_qgmjUX-YIvXFiydTjRTo5aG9mGgA45kcFJkwD1WnDooUXJcF-YVVmgbCIAt4W1oT3YzSMn9vPQTTde2sgbMZjVtiNjLlqQ/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvLvPhImGYh4tmH374Xp_DEZc3c_r_ONQwAx0Ta6LOGkJYK_qgmjUX-YIvXFiydTjRTo5aG9mGgA45kcFJkwD1WnDooUXJcF-YVVmgbCIAt4W1oT3YzSMn9vPQTTde2sgbMZjVtiNjLlqQ/s320/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Today is my dad's birthday. My sixth one without him. What I wouldn't give to even know what I would be buying him this year. What would he be into or in need of? I'd love to know that. </div>
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The past few weeks I've been recognizing that the best gift is one that his death has given me. I can't help thinking lately, especially each night as I lay my kids to sleep, that I am so lucky to know how quickly things could all change. How fast they, or I, could just be gone. It's because of him that I turn around, nearly every night since the birth of my first, and head back into their rooms. To touch their hair, or rub their bellies, or to just stare and give thanks for them one last time that day before I go to bed. Because I know that <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1237157334" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ"><span style="color: #222222;">tomorrow</span></span></span> could bring something totally different, completely horrific, utterly devastating - in the blink of an eye.</div>
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Is that negative thinking? Absolutely. But I use that fear in a completely positive way. I squeeze every amount of amazing, out of each waking moment, of every day that I have with them. Will I, like every other parent, exclaim that things went by way too fast when they turn 18 and go off to college? Absolutely. But I also know that I don't think I could get anything more out of this magic that is mommyhood. Every kiss they give, every hair pulling hug they offer me I live in slow motion so it can be etched into my soul. I can't fathom what else I could do to be more obsessed with their tiny little beings. </div>
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And for that, I obviously have my husband to thank, for working so hard so I can stay home with my babies, my mom to thank, for teaching me by example as she raised her babies, and my dad. My dad, who passed away so far beyond way too early. Who's last days and moments I have broken apart and analyzed and memorized just for the sake of trying to make his life last longer. What I wouldn't give to make it last longer. I have my dad to thank for so many things in my life, but quite possibly the greatest being the knowledge that time, and life, are such precious, precious gifts. For his loss makes me cherish the here and now in such a detailed, broken down, moment-by-moment way. While I wouldn't wish this kind of loss on anyone, I do have to say it is also one of the greatest gifts a person could be given. Every present I could possibly have given him would seem so pale in comparison. Happy Birthday Daddy!!!</div>
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Tonight's dessert: German Chocolate Cupcakes in his honor.</div>
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Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-83651150770502235912014-08-19T16:58:00.001-04:002014-08-19T16:58:46.395-04:00Four Years Without Him<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
I've been missing my dad for four years now. This anniversary seems to be a bit harder than the last. I think it's sinking in even farther. I miss his voice, I miss his quirks, I miss his stubbornness, I miss his hugs, I miss his adoration, and I miss his love. Ironically, and I'm sure he's chuckling, but lately I miss his advice the most. And while there are several things I would love his advice on currently, I do know he would be proud even if I make a decision he wouldn't have made.</div>
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The other day I mentioned to someone that I think my son is getting a better parent out of me because I've lost my dad. I do things with my son that he used to do, which I always scoffed at or thought were dorky, because I now realize they are so important. Once again, I'm sure he's up there chuckling and gloating to all of his friends. He was beyond smart on so many levels, many of which I've recognized only after becoming a parent.</div>
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I know through small signs that he's still with us. A few days ago my son grabbed a picture of my dad, without knowing who it was, and kissed it. He's never done that before to any picture and I needed that. Whenever I'm having a bad day, the Rolling Stones still somehow come on at just the right time and I rock out, in tears, in my car. Best of all, my son is a spitting image of my dad as a toddler. I love that! I can't forget to mention the numerous dreams he's in. Those are our moments. </div>
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The bottom line is he's still so very missed. Nothing has changed. But our lives are better because he was in them. That will never change either. </div>
Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-28735360400585709772014-07-19T15:58:00.000-04:002014-07-19T16:02:18.306-04:00I Belong On A BeachAfter much contemplation I've come to realize I should be living on a beach, or at least in a beach town. While one could argue that Cleveland is on the water, it doesn't have that beach town feel. Exhibit A: the harsh winters.<br />
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I'd be happy in any number of places. Galveston, Malibu, Savannah, Charleston, Cape Cod, you name it. I'm not picky.<br />
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Unfortunately, I think I'm stuck here for the time being. But one can dream of beach views, fun activities for kids (the idea of sand-covered babies with hair bleached by the sun is soothing to my soul!), and the decorating ideas! <br />
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How much fun would it be to live in this?...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5pqM6q-nRANbdRF7TKZG0fjb3yqfDY3kukYskkPu7RftwxejxKPr79EdP5e5y8hqy8u6Rljn7ElvQobUA82QyLYuIsHCjIobLAABnXpteGFpb1flWukfvFLTdHLMS9CFVDVvdn0VwotvM/s1600/blue-living-room-set.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5pqM6q-nRANbdRF7TKZG0fjb3yqfDY3kukYskkPu7RftwxejxKPr79EdP5e5y8hqy8u6Rljn7ElvQobUA82QyLYuIsHCjIobLAABnXpteGFpb1flWukfvFLTdHLMS9CFVDVvdn0VwotvM/s1600/blue-living-room-set.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of Home-Decorating-With-Style.com</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeXxolSVsSbhWctVfTWeqUQbXDoYKPksEilFA3e5cndOUKND6oiNRb671JAKYhoVPZmVxPe0dpjMc8XML2_ogNdzMNHoTq7oWW9xi8L-WNuQZmBhtg4l8EM7cZde6phu2xvRzXa2iZ-6H3/s1600/dkorinteriorscom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeXxolSVsSbhWctVfTWeqUQbXDoYKPksEilFA3e5cndOUKND6oiNRb671JAKYhoVPZmVxPe0dpjMc8XML2_ogNdzMNHoTq7oWW9xi8L-WNuQZmBhtg4l8EM7cZde6phu2xvRzXa2iZ-6H3/s1600/dkorinteriorscom.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of DKORInteriors.com</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiefHIKrsst-6_ZW1Mv4mi6d0Nhyphenhyphen3Bvu_EQe8bCcJlOTXbjo0bL6PQvzJMvES8sG_J5srSUWfdhity7alDHLPPdD5rsWrsu-WAno33PrjAjCNljtod32eyiyptRQFpX67wwU_1XEmNMnchR/s1600/gonauticalcom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiefHIKrsst-6_ZW1Mv4mi6d0Nhyphenhyphen3Bvu_EQe8bCcJlOTXbjo0bL6PQvzJMvES8sG_J5srSUWfdhity7alDHLPPdD5rsWrsu-WAno33PrjAjCNljtod32eyiyptRQFpX67wwU_1XEmNMnchR/s1600/gonauticalcom.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of GoNautical.com</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKMqDgJdRKCcWagrAb3F3lWuNE9El9utoKZDgkrigUOv1T3HsQ5DfRo8qN-8-5asQT8ivSVfqKOmqteyiTREik31VjGLYlcwp_K6q_6CPuLob0VGXdIu-DhioQikPE5gku7Ur0z_cNhmGd/s1600/bestdesignewscom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKMqDgJdRKCcWagrAb3F3lWuNE9El9utoKZDgkrigUOv1T3HsQ5DfRo8qN-8-5asQT8ivSVfqKOmqteyiTREik31VjGLYlcwp_K6q_6CPuLob0VGXdIu-DhioQikPE5gku7Ur0z_cNhmGd/s1600/bestdesignewscom.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of BestDesigNews.com</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDJ1rJrmWto5e6ZOtojo0x27n3q3MDvEhMySQAfPt0RsS8qGF1QGCcPog1UakSAsDITNa6CXW_rarmhDtTjvU24vVJIqEUJYvH7ul4Bp2Qjd4rtBG02d0ce1EHk8gLxmJibkrM9FhYkET6/s1600/botiquedeluzcom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDJ1rJrmWto5e6ZOtojo0x27n3q3MDvEhMySQAfPt0RsS8qGF1QGCcPog1UakSAsDITNa6CXW_rarmhDtTjvU24vVJIqEUJYvH7ul4Bp2Qjd4rtBG02d0ce1EHk8gLxmJibkrM9FhYkET6/s1600/botiquedeluzcom.jpg" height="333" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of BoutiqueDeLuz.com</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilB7c34KN4AKIdvshAz8QnWhZZ6BamSodALwUcUFGrMiULqL-h5BGA3bIapye0LId0jeRLi30cN5hgywMZQPsX4qfDJz_CYj3Q5bjEYA4kyjVtMdWTXnL_Rfvn8WCINb0th1xBk0Jx65Z9/s1600/sfxitcom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilB7c34KN4AKIdvshAz8QnWhZZ6BamSodALwUcUFGrMiULqL-h5BGA3bIapye0LId0jeRLi30cN5hgywMZQPsX4qfDJz_CYj3Q5bjEYA4kyjVtMdWTXnL_Rfvn8WCINb0th1xBk0Jx65Z9/s1600/sfxitcom.jpg" height="320" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of Sfxit.com</td></tr>
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If we had found out the gender of our little boy before hand, I would have absolutely done a nautical-themed nursery like this one instead of our current, gender-neutral "natural" theme: </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg30GDxVRcM1UnZuexPNb6ipOL84jF8NO4bhWMTkRfME8hBPsI2idWbrCMp_9JiUdxg3WEbTg_k8u7ZVrXe41gORyZ9UH9Y8O9rPwLA3ZRxrMsVfQ8Nz_VDNuxt2qPSwu1QIHxPCv-50sn_/s1600/missesboycom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg30GDxVRcM1UnZuexPNb6ipOL84jF8NO4bhWMTkRfME8hBPsI2idWbrCMp_9JiUdxg3WEbTg_k8u7ZVrXe41gORyZ9UH9Y8O9rPwLA3ZRxrMsVfQ8Nz_VDNuxt2qPSwu1QIHxPCv-50sn_/s1600/missesboycom.jpg" height="390" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of missesboy.com</td></tr>
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I even found a great company on Etsy that does inexpensive, beach-themed prints like this:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisJcVgWFNWQ2v7cJx51rqB5ybsyWqgWutdLLizBEJVeb7CWaJLrnS3EZfWfF3S_b2k_Euwdr_Hm2NZnD2Yk27g0BgJI4zDwDDkpMzO2RN1y2J6xZ1F02qFFf0ZamN3hg2N49UGCHzg_jD3/s1600/EtsyBeachHouseGallery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisJcVgWFNWQ2v7cJx51rqB5ybsyWqgWutdLLizBEJVeb7CWaJLrnS3EZfWfF3S_b2k_Euwdr_Hm2NZnD2Yk27g0BgJI4zDwDDkpMzO2RN1y2J6xZ1F02qFFf0ZamN3hg2N49UGCHzg_jD3/s1600/EtsyBeachHouseGallery.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can find these prints here: <span class="current-txt"><a href="http://bit.ly/EtsyBeachHouseGallery"><span class="current-shortlink">bit.ly/<b>EtsyBeachHouseGallery</b></span></a>
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I can't get enough!Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-49824475488299539342014-07-17T15:20:00.001-04:002014-07-17T15:20:55.235-04:00I'm Back, Maybe<div style="margin: 0px 0px 20px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255,255,255,0);">So
I've been MIA from this whole blog thing for a while - and I could've
cared less. I have a 17 month old son and all I've wanted to do since
his birth is stare at him, play with him, kiss him and pretty much
ignore everything else just to be with him.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255,255,255,0);">He's
laughing, and running, and learning Spanish, and torturing the dog, and
kissing, and being picky about foods, and sleeping like a champ. He's
such an easy, but always busy, 17 month old. He's in a perpetual state
of motion, except for when he's sleeping. He's literally the love of my
life. I never thought it would be THIS cool. I'm sure the next one will
be the opposite of easy, but for now we're in a state of ignorant
parental bliss.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255,255,255,0);">I
do miss blogging though, so I'm back. I can't promise that there won't
be periods of time where my son does something extra adorable, the
obsession takes hold, and I neglect the blog, but I'm hoping to be
better, so bare with me.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255,255,255,0);">Here we go again...</span></div>
Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-38464174221185949742013-08-20T00:55:00.001-04:002013-08-20T00:59:23.536-04:00Three Years<p>It's been three years since I last spoke with my dad. So much has happened. So much that he missed out on, but yet was somehow such a part of.</p>
<p>Today was the easiest of the past three anniversaries. Partly because I've proven to myself that I still think about him every day, so I feel less pressure to make one day so sentimental. But mainly because I have this new baby that reminds me so much of him. He is this new blank canvas and I can't wait to fill in a few corners with the details, traditions and values I learned from my parents. There's no doubt that having a baby has shifted my focus from sadness to purpose-driven.</p>
<p>Losing my dad hasn't made me love my baby any more than I would have. I would have been this in love regardless. What it has done is make me appreciate every second with him because you just never know. It has also made me appreciate having my mom here. I love sharing this experience with her and reminiscing about her first years of parenthood. I wish I could record her as she recounts those memories and then play those back when my babies have babies. I'm so lucky to have her. </p>
<p>I wish I could know all this and still have him here, but today I recognize that I'm successfully taking my dad along with us as we enjoy this new little life...and I'm doing better. </p>
<p> </p><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-51448879468067451642013-03-09T11:01:00.001-05:002013-03-09T11:01:15.995-05:00A Mother's Love<p>The saying goes:. You can't comprehend how much you could love someone until you have a child. While I never doubted this to be true, I had absolutely no idea the magnitude of what that would actually mean. I had no idea the love I was getting myself into until we had our first child in early February.</p>
<p>He is my everything! </p>
<p>Once while I was changing his diaper, things came out of all three holes simultaneously. Yup, he went #1, #2 and spit up all at the same time. And even with all that, he was the cutest thing I'd ever seen. I'm up with him every hour and a half to three hours throughout the night, yet when he naps during the day I can hardly wait for him to wake up. I stare at him as he's asleep, within touching distance, and I actually miss him. If I'm not holding him, I'm not complete.</p>
<p>When I pick him up each morning I'm still amazed at the thought that a few weeks ago he was this intangible part of my life, and 9 months ago he was just a hope - and now here he is. This new existence in the world where once there was nothing. I can't get over how crazy that is. That makes him even more precious. </p>
<p>I have no idea how I'm going to send him off to college. I have no idea how I'm going to send him to preschool. Hell, I don't even know how I'm going to have a babysitter. Only his dad and I are qualified to take care of such an important person. </p>
<p>I simultaneously don't want him to grow up and can't wait for all that is to come. With every outfit he outgrows I secretly cry inside, yet as he begins to possibly smile - on purpose maybe now - I can't help but be excited that he's getting older and becoming even cooler. </p>
<p>I'm officially that crazy new mom - obsessed. </p>
<p> </p><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-45414453909905346122012-10-24T16:55:00.002-04:002012-10-24T16:58:12.299-04:00It's About Time To Announce...Seeing as I'm 25 weeks I figure it's high time to announce that we're officially expecting our first child, due at the beginning of February. I waited so long partly for superstitious reasons and partly because I've just been so busy spending every waking (and sleeping) hour thinking baby. It's overwhelming in a good way.<br />
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To kick off my many more baby posts to come, I thought I would start by divulging my initial symptoms. The ones that clued me in on the fact that I may be pregnant. <br />
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You might be pregnant if...<br />
<ol>
<li>Your dreams are so vivid you wake up in tears, furious with someone, or thinking something actually happened when it didn't</li>
<li>You cry when the guy at Taco Bell gets your order wrong and you don't realize till you get home and it's too late (don't judge my occasional lapses in healthy eating)</li>
<li>You cry while watching fireworks</li>
<li>You cry while watching the Olympics</li>
<li>You cry while watching Kendra, the uber-educational, emotional reality show</li>
<li>You cry because you don't want your dog to die ... because eventually she will...even though she's only 4</li>
<li>You cry because your hubby doesn't think your crying is rational</li>
<li>You cry because you haven't cried in a while </li>
<li>You find yourself hysterically crying and laughing at the same time because you realize how ridiculous your crying really is (noticing a theme)</li>
<li>At dinner time you can't tell if you're hungry, full, have to go to the bathroom, or need to throw up (made for an interesting night out)</li>
<li>You go to the bathroom more in one day than your hubby goes all week (no joke)</li>
<li>You're anxious about everything and nothing and can't make a simple decision to save your life</li>
</ol>
Legitimately, those were all my early warning signs. I've been really lucky to have absolutely no morning sickness whatsoever though (aside from #10, which wasn't really morning sickness as much as it was indecisiveness), so I'll take the above symptoms any day. My main, overarching symptom that has become the theme of this pregnancy is my incessant need to go to the bathroom. It's really bad. I should own stock in Charmin and I have definitely gotten to know the ins and outs of stopping at public places. Yet, I've been told this is still way better than morning sickness. The jury's still out on that one.<br />
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<br />Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-53485781455586017062012-10-23T15:17:00.001-04:002012-10-23T16:17:50.825-04:00In The End...Okay, so I'm admittedly stealing this (in pieces) from The Vampire Diaries, my guilty pleasure, but it hits home. Despite all the positivity I can gleam out of my dad's life and even the way he died, I still have moments of despair resulting from his early passing. Moments where it feels like all is for not and I'm being dumb for filling my thoughts with a hope that just doesn't matter. They don't last long, but they are there, waiting for me in my darker hours.<br />
<br />
"Like lighting a candle's going to make everything OK, or even saying a
prayer... Stupid, delusional, exasperating...'It makes you feel better'. So what? For how long? A minute, a day? What difference does it
make? Because in the end, when you lose somebody, every candle, every
prayer is not going to make up for the fact that the only thing you have
left is a hole in your life where that somebody that you cared about used
to be. And a rock with a birthday carved into it..." <br />
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I can usually push passed it, but sometimes it's there.<br />
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Surprisingly, and fittingly, my dad is the one who helps me out of them.<br />
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Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-48875105336418377182012-10-16T14:10:00.001-04:002012-10-16T14:13:48.664-04:00Baking Tip<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfEvo6Z-pqF8uY_oYv3DGtR_mMWB3WvrQhp9bZvNR7mZNDsAMTMz-8D83B8FchnQ7nPwU_r-YGMeuAahtP2fuQpanJ4W2i74cpT-ypEUdu-uxFUE1Fv_SkbRoPobUIjI7K-_rrpS9c20wM/s1600/Cake+Paper+Towel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfEvo6Z-pqF8uY_oYv3DGtR_mMWB3WvrQhp9bZvNR7mZNDsAMTMz-8D83B8FchnQ7nPwU_r-YGMeuAahtP2fuQpanJ4W2i74cpT-ypEUdu-uxFUE1Fv_SkbRoPobUIjI7K-_rrpS9c20wM/s400/Cake+Paper+Towel.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Tip #5 - This isn't so much a baking tip as it is a cake eating tip, but you get the gist...<br />
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The minute you cut into a cake, its shelf-life quickly begins to diminish. Especially if it is not stored in an air tight container, but rather the box it comes in from the baker. One of the more noticeable changes is the hardening of the exposed edges.<br />
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Placing a paper towel over the insides of the cake will help keep it moist until you're ready to dive in for seconds - and save you from having to cut off and toss valuable portions of cake.<br />
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Similarly, before you cut into a cake for the first time, placing a damp paper towel in the box can help provide moisturizing freshness until you're ready to eat. <br />
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<br />Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-73046803786763527082012-10-12T16:32:00.000-04:002012-10-12T16:33:00.022-04:00Kitchen Renovations - Before and AfterThis post is long overdue, but I love the renovation so much that I don't care how old it may be, I'm still posting. It's been over a year since we renovated our kitchen, but I love the transformation. Since it's long been established that I'm into the natural, stone decorating way of doing things (Colorado-style), it should be no surprise we took this renovation in that direction as well. One of my favorite decorating ideas to date was the decision to put backsplash not only below the cabinets, but above them as well. You would not believe the flack I got from actual decorators and suppliers who thought it was a terrible idea. But the only person I actually had to convince was Mr. W. And believe me, it took a lot of convincing. However, as you will see, I won that argument. In the end he not only loved it, but insisted we install backsplash on the TV wall as well. Below are the photos of the complete renovation process.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Before</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Selected Materials</span></b></div>
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Granite - It's so pretty in the shop that I wanted them to keep that rough </div>
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edge upon installation. Apparently it's not a safe choice for when you have </div>
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kids and your clothes will totally rip and tear if you rub against it. But it's so pretty!</div>
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Backsplash</div>
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Interestingly enough, the hubby and I agreed 100% on the </div>
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granite and backsplash. For once!</div>
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The paint choice wasn't as easy to decide upon, but I liked the Merlot idea b/c it would highlight the lighter backsplash and granite really well. I also liked it because throughout the granite there are trails of a Merlot color. The actual paint we chose was <a href="http://www.sherwin-williams.com/homeowners/color/find-and-explore-colors/paint-colors-by-family/SW7577-blackberry/" target="_blank">Sherwin-Williams - Blackberry</a>.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>During The Renovation</b></span></div>
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Ripping out the old backsplash </div>
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Granite installation</div>
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The granite company had an extra square of granite that they gave us and </div>
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we now use as a pot holder/heating pad of sorts on our dining room buffet table. </div>
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It protects the wood from any hot dishes we are serving.</div>
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Love the sinks! 60/40. 60 is 10" deep and 40 is 8" deep.</div>
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My favorite feature though would be the touch faucet. </div>
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As in dirty hands, no worries, just touch anywhere on the faucet with your hands!</div>
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Because I wanted counter to ceiling stone backsplash (and not granite backsplash) </div>
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we took off the granite backsplash seen here:</div>
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At first they gave us the wrong backsplash. It was tinted pink, and </div>
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clearly did not match the granite. Yet they insisted it was the right color. </div>
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After about 2 months of going back and forth they FINALLY </div>
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realized the boxes were labeled wrong and gave us the right material.</div>
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Almost done installing backsplash under the cabinets.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Painting</b></span></div>
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It took three coats of Blackberry Sherwin Williams paint to get the dark </div>
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Merlot color we wanted. It started out looking pink, then purple, then Merlot!</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Finished Product</b></span></div>
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Gotta have my television. Helps pass the 8+ hours I spend making each cake! </div>
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See what I mean about the backsplash? It appears as though the<br />
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whole wall is rock and the cabinets were mounted on top of them.</div>
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Now we just have to work on updating those floors.<br />
There's always something, I tell ya!</div>
<br />Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-54149584165676081332012-08-19T18:44:00.001-04:002012-08-22T20:17:30.706-04:00I Still Miss Him<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-qwuufBsLk0I/UDFr2r6UJWI/AAAAAAAABAE/hVdmlqJAXJc/s1530/Photo%252520Aug%25252019%25252C%2525202012%2525206%25253A28%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-qwuufBsLk0I/UDFr2r6UJWI/AAAAAAAABAE/hVdmlqJAXJc/s337/Photo%252520Aug%25252019%25252C%2525202012%2525206%25253A28%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1345681006255.5815" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="337" height="451"></a></div>It's officially been two years since my dad suddenly left. The pain I feel is the price I have to pay for having the best dad ever and for loving him as much as I do. It is worth the price. When he died I never thought life would get better. I never thought it could really be fun again, but I was wrong. Even in death he has made it fun again. I still take the time to stop and watch thunderstorms. I still turn the volume up way too loud when the Stones come on and sometimes, just sometimes I make it through an entire song without crying. Okay, rarely. I still make a big deal out of the smallest things. I pull off the the road to enjoy good sunsets. I dance for no reason. I have fun, but I still miss him.<br/><br/>The sign of a good parent is that, once they're gone, you can go on without them - even though you would rather not. You go on not only because they've taught you independence, but because they've let you know that you should go on. They would want you to go on. Not to just exist, but to thrive and make a difference. Only after his death did I realize that aside from providing us an amazing family life, his main goal was to make sure we would be fine without him. He truly lived to make sure our life was amazing - with or without him. He prepared me for that moment when he wouldn't be available. But I still wish he was here.<br/><br/>So this past year I've been moving on, but with him. He's still a part of my life. With his prior help I've created a new relationship with him. I can honestly say there hasn't been one day in the past two years that I haven't thought about him. There hasn't been one full week where he hasn't been in my dreams. And while there hasn't been one week that I haven't cried because I miss him, there also hasn't been one day that I didn't smile thinking about him. But oh my God I still miss him.<br/><br/>My dreams sustain me. Last Thursday I dreamt that he called my mom and I via a three way phone call from heaven (he was obsessed with three-way calling people) using a payphone at a very busy train station. He didn't know how long the call would last or when he would be able to call next because he was still figuring out the phone allowances/policies in heaven, like he was just arriving. The purpose of his call was to tell us we were being ridiculous and needed to stop worrying about him. He could see and hear everything, but knew that we could not. That's why he would try and call as often as possible, but he was fine and our family was still intact. He was just the invisible family member. I don't know what I would do without these frequent "meetings" with him. But even with them I still miss him.<br/><br/>My main goal for today is to remind everyone how brief and unguaranteed life really is. That next phone call could be the one that ruins your life. So take a few moments right now to tell your family how much you love them AND how much you would miss them if they were gone. As sappy and uncomfortable as you may feel doing so, it is the one thing you would regret not doing if they were gone tomorrow. That is the best way you can help me make today meaningful, because otherwise its just the anniversary of the worst day of my life.<br/><br/> <br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-58065884139927916812012-07-18T13:37:00.002-04:002012-08-22T20:18:22.470-04:00Happy Birthday Dad!!!The hubby and I recently celebrated my dad's birthday with the essential German Chocolate Cake, which, ironically, neither of us really like. Unfortunately, the cake was store bought this year, so obviously not as good as<strong> <a href="http://www.lifeloveandcake.com/2011/07/happy-birthday.html" target="_blank">last year</a></strong>, because I knew I would have no time for homemade. The evening before his bday I took an Old Fashioned Pie Making class at our local cooking school (so fun) and the evening of his bday I was busy making food for a friend's baby shower that was taking place the next day. I topped the cake with one regular candle surrounded by several sparklers for fun.<br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-oojCYM_y6TM/UA3W6Kw0DWI/AAAAAAAAA5g/VWcP8GF-WIM/s2048/Photo%252520Jul%25252013%25252C%2525202012%2525207%25253A07%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-oojCYM_y6TM/UA3W6Kw0DWI/AAAAAAAAA5g/VWcP8GF-WIM/s307/Photo%252520Jul%25252013%25252C%2525202012%2525207%25253A07%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1345681078492.621" class="aligncenter" width="307" height="183" alt=""></a></div>My wish? The same one I made last year: "To have my dad back." As unrealistic as it may be, that will ALWAYS be my wish every year as I blow out his birthday candles. Nothing else seems as appropriate or important. It is, after all, a wish for him. And I'm in charge of making it so I can wish for what I want.<br/><br/>The hubby made me breakdown even further when he pulled out a six-pack of Becks, dad's favorite beer, to help celebrate. He totally would have approved! (the label on the bottle was rather ironic, considering.)<br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-G6MQvFdoPUc/UA3XCunjDdI/AAAAAAAAA5o/Fsm35UAFp9M/s1225/Photo%252520Jul%25252023%25252C%2525202012%2525206%25253A48%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-G6MQvFdoPUc/UA3XCunjDdI/AAAAAAAAA5o/Fsm35UAFp9M/s180/Photo%252520Jul%25252023%25252C%2525202012%2525206%25253A48%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1345681078505.3562" class="aligncenter" width="180" height="300" alt=""></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br></td></tr></tbody></table> <br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-78300324255866550042012-06-22T10:02:00.003-04:002012-08-22T20:25:27.779-04:00Lebron James - Far From Redemption<h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">At the risk of sounded like a Cleveland fan... </span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">I read an interesting article the other day about Lebron. I recommend reading the whole thing <a href="http://msn.foxsports.com/nba/story/lebron-james-cant-erase-the-decision-even-if-miami-heat-win-finals-061112" target="_blank"><strong>HERE</strong></a>, but for a quick summary:</span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">“This guy is so crazy talented he will eventually win a championship. And when he does, people will say he redeemed himself. All he really will have done is won a championship. Redemption requires Cleveland, and that road is forever closed. <br> <br> LeBron is not a villain. He is probably not even a bad guy. He is just not what he could have been had he seen it through in Cleveland.” <br> <br> That sums it up. Cleveland rant over.</span></span></h6><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zSLKv71VMILyJM6ldetuCkj_qGjQis46B0cLJnDFNqB36_d77bEjfdzKqi-Os9yaiMIfEahCekiou8IUWlU8WgHf-fiGmArD5qwQbISE1YDlYfuE42O4QMdUIv6gi7yzoZsoWFEbwEeV/s1600/Lebron+James.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zSLKv71VMILyJM6ldetuCkj_qGjQis46B0cLJnDFNqB36_d77bEjfdzKqi-Os9yaiMIfEahCekiou8IUWlU8WgHf-fiGmArD5qwQbISE1YDlYfuE42O4QMdUIv6gi7yzoZsoWFEbwEeV/s400/Lebron+James.jpg" id="blogsy-1345681128113.2173" class="" width="400" height="224" alt=""></a></div><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><br></span></span></h6> <br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-38768453981019766612012-06-18T16:20:00.001-04:002012-06-18T16:21:17.931-04:00Happy Father's DayI'm a bit late b/c I was having issues posting last night, but...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFSpn3detwdihZQiXcGPUtOfJD1l5kloryjkG_DenSIwnmPWPz70NRXvu7wtypSF5VxFN08I0SXawAh4GsQQvTvx2puYTESfKaw4bHDts6fRS4mPgZDX-QrtT9ast-CA6cpvrwkg8200zM/s1600/Happy+Father%27s+Day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFSpn3detwdihZQiXcGPUtOfJD1l5kloryjkG_DenSIwnmPWPz70NRXvu7wtypSF5VxFN08I0SXawAh4GsQQvTvx2puYTESfKaw4bHDts6fRS4mPgZDX-QrtT9ast-CA6cpvrwkg8200zM/s400/Happy+Father%27s+Day.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Happy Father's Day to every amazing dad out there. You are more
important than you may ever know. I still rely on the advice I learned
from mine to get me through each day. From the serious, practical
lessons to the better, more important life lessons. He taught me how to
be financially responsible, how to do my taxes, and how to negotiate and
end up on the better end of the deal. I learned from him that your word
is everything and your reputation is all you really have. He taught me
that before you learn how to drive you have to learn how to change a
tire.<br />
<br />
]But my dad also taught me that the only band worth destroying
your ear drums over is the Rolling Stones, and as this picture depicts,
he taught me that you're never too old to still be a kid with your kids.
So here's to you, my Peter Pan. Happy Father's Day Dad.<span class="fcg"></span>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-2768779489607271792012-05-30T12:52:00.003-04:002012-05-30T13:48:05.839-04:00Pippa Middleton Outshines the Duchess of Cambridge Yet AgainWhat is it about Pippa Middleton that has us all in awe of her ability to outshine her sister Kate? She's done it yet again by wearing the now doubly famous <a href="http://www.net-a-porter.com/am/product/185610?cm_mmc=LinkshareUS-_-ProductFeed-_-Issa-_-Dresses&siteID=J84DHJLQkR4-tsZP11YhQ6QCr_3U1tm5VQ" target="_blank"><b>Issa silk-jersey "Forever"</b></a> dress, which retails for $555. Remember, Kate originally wore the exact same dress in a royal blue color when she and William announced their engagement. Of course, the blue Sapphire engagement ring is the ultimate accessory, but I still think the red floral fascinator Pippa wore really sealed the deal. Am I the only one? Who do you think wore it best?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ZPJmhHazarjeWQBLZ8Iiad2nhyXvguBe83IJA1L_uZyq4Tc93ACZI5ckox0aQb52aSmUtsaeUcC77J5fm6lzy7hgZLUPV558KkmKjNXDTqdNh_xUaXJY85usW11fUIs5XljgH0ku3gE2/s1600/pippa-middleton1--a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ZPJmhHazarjeWQBLZ8Iiad2nhyXvguBe83IJA1L_uZyq4Tc93ACZI5ckox0aQb52aSmUtsaeUcC77J5fm6lzy7hgZLUPV558KkmKjNXDTqdNh_xUaXJY85usW11fUIs5XljgH0ku3gE2/s320/pippa-middleton1--a.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love that fascinator!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVMxtrAhGY2_jqDGSoPwMh3y97A-xoqnmdlnUTW4nXpMWAAbMH9sbbycHsAVvcLci8BoK5Z40VbIDNDhIV-_-zkdNDhq7eKo9J94UaoDnEehLYzpvs7gSjuNwBQ0gnBeuFkVP1M05gZHPX/s1600/11140_000016895_c075_Kate-Middleton-and-William-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVMxtrAhGY2_jqDGSoPwMh3y97A-xoqnmdlnUTW4nXpMWAAbMH9sbbycHsAVvcLci8BoK5Z40VbIDNDhIV-_-zkdNDhq7eKo9J94UaoDnEehLYzpvs7gSjuNwBQ0gnBeuFkVP1M05gZHPX/s320/11140_000016895_c075_Kate-Middleton-and-William-9.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate definitely looked flawless, but it was a safe choice</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrlvmT7mjp6KtsA0wgTX5YKfo7bbDIRwR0SOAzDissm4vxeQZSu8LElLSkUreh1WDcdDdmgjyoeqJjtnsQ1aI-a6TcKEX4NodYCbL2KiJRnPGdUQ_5d_0Hx4Uy3oFxpX0FgAD0sBl0qGkB/s1600/article-1337519568372-133187F9000005DC-435045_466x659.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrlvmT7mjp6KtsA0wgTX5YKfo7bbDIRwR0SOAzDissm4vxeQZSu8LElLSkUreh1WDcdDdmgjyoeqJjtnsQ1aI-a6TcKEX4NodYCbL2KiJRnPGdUQ_5d_0Hx4Uy3oFxpX0FgAD0sBl0qGkB/s320/article-1337519568372-133187F9000005DC-435045_466x659.jpg" width="226" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A side-by-side comparison </td></tr>
</tbody></table>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-39692831740561771112012-05-29T21:34:00.001-04:002012-05-29T23:10:00.448-04:00NEO Homemade - Clagett Designs <br/><br/><div class="separator" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-gr2QTSXKBag/T8V6OP41NeI/AAAAAAAAA3o/HfWt1viMIeE/s200/Photo%252520May%25252029%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A34%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1338347324267.7979" class="alignnone" width="200" height="200" alt=""> </div>I love finding small companies with great products as a replacement for mass-produced items from national chain stores. Especially when they're made by local, homegrown talents. We all know it's hard for these smaller companies to compete so they need all the promoting they can get. For this reason I'm starting a NEO Homemade "column", which may eventually expand to include Denver-Boulder area talents.<br/><br/>For my first Snapshot I'd like to introduce you to Katie Grabner who, within the past year, has turned an idea into a full-blown company - <a href="http://www.clagettdesigns.com/" target="_blank" title="Clagett Designs"><strong>Clagett Designs</strong></a>. Katie works out of her in-home studio in Chagrin Falls, OH, creating jewelry that she sells both online and at trunk shows.<br/><br/>I was recently invited to my first show and finally got to see her jewelry in person. I loved the night from the get-go. Not often enough do i get to indulge in a true, proper ladies night where you get to dress up, enjoy a glass of wine and meet a new group of women. I love that Katie provides such a comfortable, creative setting that fosters this environment. Great for a fun night out and I totally recommend bringing friends and grabbing dinner afterwards. <br/><br/>On to the jewelry. LOVED IT! Her collection consists of classy, timeless pieces that can both accompany a cocktail dress for a night out or dress up a casual pair of jeans for everyday wear. Each piece demonstrates the quality of craftsmanship that Katie prides herself. Plus, there's something for every price range from pendant earrings for $12 to a multi-strand pearl and gold necklace for $350. I splurged on four items myself and was very impressed with how well each piece was made. They just feel like good, solid pieces that will last a lifetime.<br/><br/>My favorite part: Katie has a knack for creating pieces that cross generational gaps, appealing to both younger and older women. Several times throughout the night I overheard mother-daughter pairs agreeing on pieces they could buy together and periodically trade off - expanding their jewelry collection.<br/><br/>For all you creatives: If you have a concept in mind, she can help you create your very own, one-of-a-kind piece. <br/><br/>My prediction: Katie will go far and her designs will soon become well-known across Northeast Ohio. Check out her website, <a href="http://www.clagettdesigns.com/" target="_blank" title=""><strong>www.clagettdesigns.com</strong></a>, to learn more about Katie and to check out her work.<br/><br/><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_1pNlo-Q9o0/T8V6S-ZyuwI/AAAAAAAAA4I/NQJLQ7Nryt4/s400/Photo%252520May%25252025%25252C%2525202012%2525202%25253A22%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1338347324245.0942" class="alignnone" width="400" height="266" alt=""></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chunky necklaces</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Jz55LKet5c0/T8V6PSFM5oI/AAAAAAAAA3w/PjMp_ffkwzs/s400/Photo%252520May%25252025%25252C%2525202012%2525202%25253A22%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1338347324271.7036" class="alignnone" width="400" height="266" alt=""></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dainty Necklaces</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-R67np_HMjYI/T8V6LwKmkdI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/R_MC-4v6agY/s400/Photo%252520May%25252025%25252C%2525202012%2525202%25253A23%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1338347324338.5767" class="alignnone" width="400" height="266" alt=""></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trunk Show Showroom - So Classy!</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Qi1wnJUGArc/T8V6M49CMhI/AAAAAAAAA3g/i_vCV2tZn1o/s400/Photo%252520May%25252025%25252C%2525202012%2525202%25253A23%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1338347324253.8052" class="alignnone" width="400" height="266" alt=""></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My original three choices - gold dangle leaf earrings, four strand matted gold link bracelet, and a brushed silver metal link bracelet</td></tr><tr><td valign="top"></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Nmh3_pXTqcM/T8WCfN1Ly2I/AAAAAAAAA4U/nrAj8DDrLYE/s400/Photo%252520May%25252029%25252C%2525202012%25252010%25253A13%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1338347324342.176" class="alignnone" width="400" height="266" alt=""></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As I was making my purchases I came across this gorgeous set of earrings, which pair gold flowers with blue faceted stones. Sold, at the last minute!</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div> <br/><br/>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-12525885640968417002012-05-10T12:04:00.002-04:002012-05-10T12:06:18.216-04:00Gamecocks Droid DropLast weekend the Mr. and I took a road trip down to South Carolina where is cousin was graduating from the University of South Carolina. The 9.5 hour drive, both ways, with the in laws was essentially painless. Especially since I was enthralled in 50 Shades of Grey most of the way. Below are a few pics of our trip...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434094.9712" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-cRd3tncspE4/T6lD0YfentI/AAAAAAAAAyY/5XizOxrHT_A/s400/Photo%252520May%2525203%25252C%2525202012%2525202%25253A38%252520PM.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He can drive me anywhere :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ItaBbIQIgI4/T6lD13duwMI/AAAAAAAAAyg/XSwQjuUmKMo/s2048/Photo%252520May%2525203%25252C%2525202012%25252011%25253A11%252520AM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434104.4429" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ItaBbIQIgI4/T6lD13duwMI/AAAAAAAAAyg/XSwQjuUmKMo/s400/Photo%252520May%2525203%25252C%2525202012%25252011%25253A11%252520AM.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charleston, WV</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434115.3938" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-WB7XpqNaeKk/T6lD45SJA2I/AAAAAAAAAyo/DibMVNV8bAs/s400/Photo%252520May%2525203%25252C%2525202012%2525202%25253A38%252520PM.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Perfect road trip music!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434157.985" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-T7hjX8NyAFE/T6lD6ACKFjI/AAAAAAAAAyw/1m46rswa80U/s400/Photo%252520May%2525203%25252C%2525202012%2525203%25253A42%252520PM.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I really should be living beach side. That fits my personality well.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434155.8447" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-EgJ_BgkjQV0/T6lD7ms196I/AAAAAAAAAy4/vF0i9-J_FiU/s400/Photo%252520May%2525203%25252C%2525202012%2525203%25253A43%252520PM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Again, I should live in a southern, coastal town!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="400" id="blogsy-1336665434110.077" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-3uZVV2DBf2Y/T6lD8xQfkMI/AAAAAAAAAzA/xFw6y3QR4gc/s400/Photo%252520May%2525203%25252C%2525202012%2525205%25253A21%252520PM.jpg" width="237" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Sheraton in downton Columbia. <br />
It was a pretty, historic building, but the service was under par. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434160.1973" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5zszn6Nt2N8/T6lD-wKm3EI/AAAAAAAAAzI/2xHH1sKmNWM/s400/Photo%252520May%2525203%25252C%2525202012%2525206%25253A24%252520PM.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riding in relaxing style with amazing shuttle service from <b><a href="http://www.facebook.com/SignatureTransportationColumbiaSC" target="_blank">Signature Transportation</a></b>. <br />
DEFINITELY check them out! Their whole staff is awesome!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434141.8555" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6MFCn9el4L0/T6lEAhYvHrI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/EQ8qzCFLzZ4/s400/Photo%252520May%2525203%25252C%2525202012%2525207%25253A38%252520PM.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"G" giving her speech for the honors graduation event</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434111.5195" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-G5kZfnWtypE/T6lEBmewU2I/AAAAAAAAAzY/ZFy10nWcOYY/s400/Photo%252520May%2525203%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A15%252520PM.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's right. Tacos and Sushi. Mexican goes well with Japanese cuisine, right?</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="400" id="blogsy-1336665434102.1943" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-w7yv-mAuVPI/T6lEDDwS_0I/AAAAAAAAAzg/hfYAKw_wJz0/s400/Photo%252520May%2525204%25252C%2525202012%25252011%25253A46%252520AM.jpg" width="239" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lookin' good as we tour the campus</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434142.7068" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-UplIylg18ZI/T6lEE2RUdJI/AAAAAAAAAzo/avMb8pwDNRE/s400/Photo%252520May%2525204%25252C%2525202012%25252011%25253A46%252520AM.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Random cute flowers</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434176.0603" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-66xxG6D9L8g/T6lILWpfQsI/AAAAAAAAA1A/r-6Z5w0AmTk/s400/Photo%252520May%2525204%25252C%2525202012%25252012%25253A02%252520PM.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Relaxing in the "horseshoe" area of campus</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434178.2517" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-je_xw3nlN88/T6lINHSDjjI/AAAAAAAAA1I/w5nJ2wZ_Gt0/s400/Photo%252520May%2525204%25252C%2525202012%25252012%25253A07%252520PM.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love southern trees!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434193.6062" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-SbridFH7T8Q/T6lIPp997uI/AAAAAAAAA1Q/zreBtxMA5Ec/s400/Photo%252520May%2525204%25252C%2525202012%2525203%25253A07%252520PM.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was only 1/2 of the graduating class</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434126.2544" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-2QBZLaukW0I/T6lIRZJvPpI/AAAAAAAAA1Y/M--si6A2HIo/s400/Photo%252520May%2525204%25252C%2525202012%2525203%25253A40%252520PM.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">G as she graduates!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434142.7542" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1z9tQIY2daE/T6lIS6VCBzI/AAAAAAAAA1g/KGNGFloH8Xk/s400/Photo%252520May%2525204%25252C%2525202012%2525203%25253A40%252520PM.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can hardly see her, but she's raising the roof.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434182.296" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-6Qgh3Bkh7Os/T6vXUM2xsiI/AAAAAAAAA2c/UMyeYiHm5fs/s400/Photo%252520May%2525205%25252C%2525202012%2525204%25253A43%252520PM.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Greek village at USC is sooo much better than at DU. <br />
The houses are gorgeous. Very southern.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434143.0193" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-GsHz4no5WHs/T6vXWFwLv0I/AAAAAAAAA2k/4fRNmhchm2U/s400/Photo%252520May%2525205%25252C%2525202012%2525204%25253A56%252520PM.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, representing Tri Delta. Wa-what!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434163.933" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-D0UlYuJyvYg/T6vXXX1ONDI/AAAAAAAAA2s/KAkq5U_dVSU/s400/Photo%252520May%2525205%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A45%252520PM.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A great sushi restaurant (with super-cute waiters). <br />
Definitely stop in next time you're at USC.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434206.8389" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-5olBlccRfCA/T6vXYrzrbBI/AAAAAAAAA20/05D5A6huA3c/s400/Photo%252520May%2525205%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A59%252520PM.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Of course, an amazing, huge full moon on the last night.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="239" id="blogsy-1336665434136.8135" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Eki1yCyb9Nc/T6vXaetbU9I/AAAAAAAAA28/2Rc7CMhFgNI/s400/Photo%252520May%2525206%25252C%2525202012%25252012%25253A51%252520PM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Driving back home. Ah, mountains. I am in love with you!!! <br />
I don't discriminate, as long as you're a mountain, not a hill</td></tr>
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<br />Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-36803282764076812252012-05-02T00:49:00.001-04:002012-05-02T10:55:12.808-04:00A Wedding In Pearl River, NY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6KFvzFQDc_s/T6C99yKf7lI/AAAAAAAAAyE/wgbhq3QtS6k/s2048/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%2525203%25253A52%252520PM.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="218" id="blogsy-1335934513982.7932" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6KFvzFQDc_s/T6C99yKf7lI/AAAAAAAAAyE/wgbhq3QtS6k/s365/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%2525203%25253A52%252520PM.jpg" width="365" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-xwU3eYojYpQ/T6CtXuYm6fI/AAAAAAAAAwM/ONQY1J9wIcA/s2048/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%2525203%25253A52%252520PM.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title=""><br /></a></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-nAMssCud7AQ/T6C7R6e3LqI/AAAAAAAAAx0/koRsSsfnNYU/s2048/Photo%252520Apr%25252022%25252C%2525202012%25252010%25253A17%252520AM.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="alignleft" height="89" id="blogsy-1335934513924.6519" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-nAMssCud7AQ/T6C7R6e3LqI/AAAAAAAAAx0/koRsSsfnNYU/s148/Photo%252520Apr%25252022%25252C%2525202012%25252010%25253A17%252520AM.jpg" width="148" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Room 505's where it's at!</td></tr>
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A few weekends ago the hubby and I drove, yes drove, 7.5 hours to Pearl River, NY for a wedding - he was one of the groomsmen. Pearl River is a super cute town northwest of NYC, just over the border of New Jersey. In fact, I found out about three hours into the drive that the wedding wasn't in New Jersey as I had originally assumed. I should really pay more attention to detail. Especially when it involves traveling.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-yJ8_RJllCyg/T6CtdDs7k6I/AAAAAAAAAwU/W9p6tbj9BTk/s2048/Photo%252520Apr%25252020%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A38%252520PM.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="alignleft" height="183" id="blogsy-1335934513944.2427" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-yJ8_RJllCyg/T6CtdDs7k6I/AAAAAAAAAwU/W9p6tbj9BTk/s307/Photo%252520Apr%25252020%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A38%252520PM.jpg" width="307" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The best pic I could get of the groomsmen</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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The drive was mostly uneventful and so much more relaxing than flying. Plus it took about as much time as flying would have given the advanced arrival, flight time, rental car pick up, etc. It really made me wish my mom was just a 7.5 hour drive away. Even though it's still far, that would make traveling to see her so much easier and more relaxing. <br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-IOqciqEoM7M/T6CtkgERh2I/AAAAAAAAAwc/p-MxtdI5gWI/s2048/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%2525203%25253A53%252520PM.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="alignleft" height="185" id="blogsy-1335934513965.6863" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-IOqciqEoM7M/T6CtkgERh2I/AAAAAAAAAwc/p-MxtdI5gWI/s309/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%2525203%25253A53%252520PM.jpg" width="309" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The gorgeous Pearl River Hilton </td></tr>
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Anyway, we stayed at the <a href="http://www1.hilton.com/en_US/hi/hotel/PRLBHHF-Hilton-Pearl-River-New-York/index.do?WT.srch=1&searchdef=2144778&002=002%3D2144778%26021%3D606416&006=9217356422&007=SearchMobile&008=&009=b&012=+hilton++Pearl++River" target="_blank" title=""><b>Pearl River Hilton</b></a>, which felt like a French chateau. Classy and gorgeous. There were several other events there that weekend, including two weddings, so it seems to be a pretty popular place. On Saturday, while the boys were doing wedding stuff, I walked all over the "grounds" and took some pics.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-rS1FUmo4RwQ/T6Ctpw4gb8I/AAAAAAAAAwk/fBf4tZdso6w/s2048/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%2525207%25253A14%252520PM.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="alignleft" height="182" id="blogsy-1335934513949.5056" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-rS1FUmo4RwQ/T6Ctpw4gb8I/AAAAAAAAAwk/fBf4tZdso6w/s306/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%2525207%25253A14%252520PM.jpg" width="306" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loved the Chuppah</td></tr>
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The traditional Jewish wedding was by candle light and included some welcome modern touches, especially when it came to the music. The hubby loved that he walked down the isle to an instrumental Jimmy Buffett song.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1npyX1jxqGI/T6Ctv5zjFNI/AAAAAAAAAws/AElj7DBm-D4/s1225/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%2525207%25253A30%252520PM.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="alignleft" height="300" id="blogsy-1335934513919.1301" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1npyX1jxqGI/T6Ctv5zjFNI/AAAAAAAAAws/AElj7DBm-D4/s180/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%2525207%25253A30%252520PM.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breaking the glass</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm getting better at the father-daughter dance. The first wedding after my dad died I pretty much stole the show during that dance as I cried uncontrollably. It especially bothers me that I can't really remember that much of my own father-daughter dance. I was so nervous. I just remember telling him to go slower. Apparently he was nervous too because he was practically speed dancing across that floor.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-CCTobNbNDNo/T6C2B3zeoNI/AAAAAAAAAxA/idWldSYbEVU/s1225/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%2525207%25253A31%252520PM.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="alignleft" height="300" id="blogsy-1335934513926.8735" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-CCTobNbNDNo/T6C2B3zeoNI/AAAAAAAAAxA/idWldSYbEVU/s180/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%2525207%25253A31%252520PM.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My hubby walking down the isle...<br />
with someone else! Rude. I gave<br />
him a hard time.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I had to sit out the second to last song, Only The Good Die Young, for obvious reasons. While it's so true, it is also the song my husband, brother and I heard on the radio when we were driving from DIA to my parents' house the day after my dad died. Part of me always feels like I should rock out to that song in tribute, but the other part of me knows that I look like an idiot when I'm balling during rock and roll. Haha.<br />
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Bottom line: I am getting so much better!<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Pg2wBfhXpxM/T6C7KMw2dCI/AAAAAAAAAxs/FMEKh_FZXlo/s1225/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A39%252520PM.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="alignleft" height="300" id="blogsy-1335934513906.7808" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Pg2wBfhXpxM/T6C7KMw2dCI/AAAAAAAAAxs/FMEKh_FZXlo/s180/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A39%252520PM.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The center pieces were gorge!<br />
Love when they're tall enough <br />
that you can see under them.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On to the food. Ah-maxing. I was full by the end of the cocktail hour. They served made-to-order fajitas, a carving station with beef and rack-of-lamb, an Italian selection with sautéed shrimp, ravioli, and eggplant, and my personal favorite, a sushi and sashimi bar. Unlike your typical mass-produced sushi, this stuff was great. I could tell that my hubby had already had a few drinks because he bypassed all that for four, yes four, hot dogs from their dogs and burgers stand. Apparently they were minis, but still. He's got a thing or two to learn about how to work a "buffet".<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-SzrZBXKznSU/T6C2I8V5xUI/AAAAAAAAAxI/9PKd2Og_FgA/s1225/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%25252011%25253A33%252520PM.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="alignleft" height="300" id="blogsy-1335934513943.7476" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-SzrZBXKznSU/T6C2I8V5xUI/AAAAAAAAAxI/9PKd2Og_FgA/s180/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%25252011%25253A33%252520PM.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then there was dinner, which I couldn't finish on account of the cocktail hour. I was most impressed by the mini ice cream cones they passed out as we danced. Clearly. I loved them enough to run back to our table and snap a pick. LOVE! Follow that up by an individual dessert plate witn a molten chocolate mini cake, ice cream in a chocolate bowl, and fruit atop a pile of whipped cream. Oh, and don't forget the wedding cake. Let's just say I haven't eaten since.<br />
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The whole weekend made me want to take more driving trips. I'm in luck because we'll soon be driving to South Carolina, with the in-laws no less!!! Stay tuned.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-p848I-XBBi4/T6C8BuoP8vI/AAAAAAAAAx8/B3KHeGENq_E/s2048/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A39%252520PM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="218" id="blogsy-1335934513910.0305" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-p848I-XBBi4/T6C8BuoP8vI/AAAAAAAAAx8/B3KHeGENq_E/s365/Photo%252520Apr%25252021%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A39%252520PM.jpg" width="365" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The color scheme was white, off white and tan. Classic.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-81212866403800966622012-04-24T11:12:00.001-04:002012-04-30T09:05:35.014-04:00The House That Built Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_-yYT5EWIagN42kyzEdBT9nSr_FrVz5jRQrJlAOKC4hiVoZMbfgnpuIyLD7_oaCArJCiXx3zjKBJ79IV69nu_97ln0eYBcZyNp6Z1-ZetTeUwI8FTOWw0J4h3mC-cNeFD8DiXpk3CwxB9/s1600/house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_-yYT5EWIagN42kyzEdBT9nSr_FrVz5jRQrJlAOKC4hiVoZMbfgnpuIyLD7_oaCArJCiXx3zjKBJ79IV69nu_97ln0eYBcZyNp6Z1-ZetTeUwI8FTOWw0J4h3mC-cNeFD8DiXpk3CwxB9/s1600/house.jpg" /></a></div>
Contrary to the song, if I could come in I might not leave. They say after the death of a loved one you should wait at least a year before making any other huge life changes. But my parents were already in the process of getting their house ready to put on the market when my father passed away. A process that I fought them on every step of the way. I wanted to be able to take my future kids home to MY house when we came to visit my parents. I wanted them to see what IS my room. I threatened them with my plans of starting rumors that the house had termites or was haunted by ghosts. The house that we built and had been the only occupants of. Ghosts. My parents laughed it off and insisted they wanted to downsize. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyFu6MRF6sBpTzVEJIey_COoP5eB_Rqn_qITq43K8DATknWu1zINJZCSeEuDwlZc7mPducPorWoADsgazEnbmD3JCXuB-gfFS5sQE_Gg6h9KB-4W2FRYShcv-5YfgC3QlR1UusN51t6Y21/s1600/Kitchen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyFu6MRF6sBpTzVEJIey_COoP5eB_Rqn_qITq43K8DATknWu1zINJZCSeEuDwlZc7mPducPorWoADsgazEnbmD3JCXuB-gfFS5sQE_Gg6h9KB-4W2FRYShcv-5YfgC3QlR1UusN51t6Y21/s1600/Kitchen.jpg" /></a>A few weeks later when my father died, my mom still planned on continuing down the path to put it on the market, despite recommendations from friends and family that she should wait it out for that obligatory year mark. I too recommended this, but was easily persuaded by her with one conversation. I had to put aside my admittedly childish distaste for the idea now. It was no longer a joke. When the head of a household dies, the remaining members usually worry about finances. And when that person had been recommending this sale, their reasoning for it resonates even more once they're gone. After all, it's what they thought was best. I didn't want my mom to have to worry. While the hassle and rush of moving it to market so fast would be stressful, I know her and I knew she would feel such a relief once it was sold.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjfWphckwgG59C1RP4vQlncO-QRyVMYlJBFyotp9wQMOENTWMuyST34ZRXSCKiaLhCINkcsvLeBZ5iV7V5rtrRFLExl-QvJ_iMjDKt2Y98cspp8oTMB4K_bu91Ok_cNRFc4r3yjud6a-Qt/s1600/Living+Room.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjfWphckwgG59C1RP4vQlncO-QRyVMYlJBFyotp9wQMOENTWMuyST34ZRXSCKiaLhCINkcsvLeBZ5iV7V5rtrRFLExl-QvJ_iMjDKt2Y98cspp8oTMB4K_bu91Ok_cNRFc4r3yjud6a-Qt/s1600/Living+Room.jpg" /></a>I flew out several times in the following months to help her sift through a lifetime of stuff. Our mindset was sentimental, yet determined. We couldn't take our time, but we didn't want to toss anything of value, both in the monetary and sentimental sense. My mom, especially; she was a busy bee. Each time I returned I was both extremely impressed and overwhelmingly sad over how much she had accomplished. Sad that she had done it alone and that it had been done. <br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyY-zu6vKAHYTHkxmZZ1xwXKIiKbtLwwEzykJ-JndIgjb-TLbgjuseXlashawyhSCk7OYPpxzpGnSVqnMPS9W74bBf-CehDvzvDVdRGtIauJ3Kj5axGKKPCvWsA5BAfLkhrEungMXzO7yQ/s1600/my+room.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyY-zu6vKAHYTHkxmZZ1xwXKIiKbtLwwEzykJ-JndIgjb-TLbgjuseXlashawyhSCk7OYPpxzpGnSVqnMPS9W74bBf-CehDvzvDVdRGtIauJ3Kj5axGKKPCvWsA5BAfLkhrEungMXzO7yQ/s1600/my+room.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My room looks so bare and empty </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When the house was put on the market it sold within a week! I wasn't surprised. It's an amazing house! But I wasn't too keen on the buyers. They weren't right for MY house. They had plans to renovate what we had already renovated. They had plans to change it from a natural, Colorado-looking vibe to shabby sheek. Don't get me wrong, I love shabby sheek, but not in Colorado. Not for my house. Plus, they had two rowdy sons and no daughters. They wouldn't take care of it. It would be trashed. But I kept my mouth shut, knowing I would always remember it as it should be. The 100+ pictures and video I took of it helped.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHSCLKgghsm5AIHAsV9B9uPYENwy_w1qlioD4JE_n8C3g_kRTcsuG9HXR9TmIEw5k3d7V_tCEHOLHqsNb9Vy82MyqvhJfk2OVVTP3Plz01WSNyZIDkdqFR_QYSw_RxWB7TbAMojoOFb1bi/s1600/back+of+house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHSCLKgghsm5AIHAsV9B9uPYENwy_w1qlioD4JE_n8C3g_kRTcsuG9HXR9TmIEw5k3d7V_tCEHOLHqsNb9Vy82MyqvhJfk2OVVTP3Plz01WSNyZIDkdqFR_QYSw_RxWB7TbAMojoOFb1bi/s1600/back+of+house.jpg" /></a>Why do I give you this background? In a few weeks I'm headed back to visit my mom for her birthday and Mother's Day. Something I've been looking forward to since i booked this trip in March. Yesterday, though, it dawned on me. For the past two months I've been picturing my return with that house as a part of it. Yes, I've been back home to Colorado since we sold it one year ago, but I still picture staying in MY house every time I go. I'm not looking forward to the day where my mind won't play tricks on me and I don't assume that house will be part of my Colorado vacation retreat. Just like in the days and weeks after my dad died and I would wake up forgetting what had happened, I treasure these oblivious moments too for the sense of nostalgia they provide, however fleeting.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpN44a-EBQWkzMFULJKnSZDh_9ZAYlBTCtw4YYbl_KQFHM7oLGc67_in_rYa43G6Vm5xfTzR-wKAcy2LXioMkyzI4P4aGIjSqxuEJAgEudfTwZudDrHmGzYDRjEBN58SfvLowWDqzYmbpq/s1600/view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpN44a-EBQWkzMFULJKnSZDh_9ZAYlBTCtw4YYbl_KQFHM7oLGc67_in_rYa43G6Vm5xfTzR-wKAcy2LXioMkyzI4P4aGIjSqxuEJAgEudfTwZudDrHmGzYDRjEBN58SfvLowWDqzYmbpq/s1600/view.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I leave you with this amazing view!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
For this IS MY house. The house that, while still in the construction phase, I was first to climb the ladder up to the second floor and, like a brat, claim the biggest room with the biggest closet. The house with my hand prints cemented in the redrock-tinted back patio. The house with the screws in the family room walls, left there and used as a way to secure our Christmas trees after my brother fell into it one year, knocking it over and shattering almost all of the ornaments on the opposite side of the tree. I'm the one who wore down the carpet in my bedroom through years of dancing alone in my room to N'Sync, Britney Spears, and the Spice Girls. (Bless my parents for never once coming into my room while I was dancing, even though the music was blaring, I was singing obnoxiously off key, and there was no lock on the door.) Only we can tell you why you'll find three metal holes in a triangular shape in the backyard (they're for the posts that hold our hammock - three so that you can change the angle with the suns movement of course). This is OUR house with the obligatory height wall carving out our measurements. Carved because we had to paint the wall at one point and we didn't want to lose the valuable info, so we made it even more permanent. (After it had been started, my dad realized this height wall should be done on a door, or a long piece of paper that can be brought with you to the next place.) These new people will struggle without our help as they try to use the remote control in the steam room of the basement. They may never know just how refreshing the attic fan can be on a mid-summers night. Instead, I'm sure they'll turn on the A/C like boring people used to modern amenities. <br />
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Clearly I don't have high expectations for them. But let them try and figure everything out. Maybe in 20 years they will. For now, it's just proof that I still OWN that house!Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-73036702506980331482012-04-22T20:43:00.001-04:002012-04-22T20:43:03.774-04:00Fashion Week Cleveland Giveaway Results<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-KS3OILhNsss/T5SiS01qzNI/AAAAAAAAAuU/j2V1pAYV8H0/s500/Photo%252520Apr%25252022%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A27%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-KS3OILhNsss/T5SiS01qzNI/AAAAAAAAAuU/j2V1pAYV8H0/s500/Photo%252520Apr%25252022%25252C%2525202012%2525208%25253A27%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1335141711520.9746" class="alignleft" alt="" width="360" height="137"></a></div><p> The Fashion Week Cleveland <strong><a href="http://www.lifeloveandcake.com/2012/04/fashion-week-cleveland-giveaway.html" target="_blank" title="">giveaway</a></strong> has ended and two lucky winners have been chosen at random.</p><p>The winner of two tickets to GlamJam on Saturday, May 5 is blogger <strong><a href="http://lifeinthecle.wordpress.com/" target="_blank" title="">Life In The CLE</a></strong>, tweeting at the handle <a href="http://www.twitter.com/cacoughlin" target="_blank" title="">@CaCoughlin</a>.</p><p>And the winner of two VIP tickets to the Black-Tie Gala & Runway Show on Saturday, May 12 is, drumroll please.............MarcyYoung1, tweeting at the handle <a href="http://www.twitter.com/MEYCavs" target="_blank" title="">@MEYCavs</a>.</p><p> Congrats to these lucky ladies! Please email me as soon as you can at lifeloveandcake@gmail.com with an address you would like your tickets mailed to.</p>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-86311949551180190432012-04-15T01:14:00.001-04:002012-04-17T16:39:37.138-04:00Fashion Week Cleveland Giveaway<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-wzM0bV92ejA/T4piN9GzdvI/AAAAAAAAAtY/G24kfk-Ckgc/s500/Photo%252520May%25252010%25252C%2525202008%25252010%25253A21%252520PM.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-wzM0bV92ejA/T4piN9GzdvI/AAAAAAAAAtY/G24kfk-Ckgc/s268/Photo%252520May%25252010%25252C%2525202008%25252010%25253A21%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1334676569533.9739" class="alignleft" width="268" height="334" alt=""></a></div> It's finally here. My very first giveaway. And for all you fashionistas, this one is right up your ally. We've partnered with Fashion Week Cleveland to provide two lucky winners with coveted access to some of the regions most innovative design ideas.<br><br><strong><a href="http://www.fashionweekcleveland.com/" target="_blank">Fashion Week Cleveland (FWC)</a> </strong>is a week-long series of fashion shows, style events and educational programs held in Cleveland, Ohio. The event has become a highly-anticipated vehicle for introducing the work of American designers to a wider public. <br><br>Fashion Week Cleveland is known as the "educational fashion week" and has become the most significant industry event between New York and Los Angeles (<em>Women's Wear Daily).</em> <br><br>Up for grabs for Life, Love, and Cake readers are <strong>two tickets to the Fashion Week GlamJam ($20 value)</strong> at 8:00 p.m. on Saturday, May 5th and<strong> two </strong><strong>VIP tickets to the Black-Tie Gala & Runway Show</strong><strong> ($200 value!!!) </strong>at 8:00 p.m. on Saturday, May 12th. So there will be two lucky winners, one earning tickets to GlamJam and one earning tickets to the Runway Show. Each winner will be asked to write a quick recap of the event, accompanied by a few photos, which will be posted here on Life, Love, and Cake. Essentially you'll be taking over this blog for a guest post!<br><br><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.fashionweekcleveland.com/content/view/12/87/content/view/61/105/" target="_blank"><strong>GlamJam - Fashion and Music in the Rock City</strong></a> will feature music, dancers, performance artists, a wearable art runway show and many more art and visual surprises.</span><br><br><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.fashionweekcleveland.com/content/view/12/87/content/view/38/63/" target="_blank"><strong>Black-Tie Gala & Runway Show</strong></a> will feature designers in traditional, industry-style runway events. </span><br><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ktnAa5NDlSM/T4piQ_RMOkI/AAAAAAAAAt4/Xgvg2B9BDwg/s500/Photo%252520Apr%25252015%25252C%2525202012%2525201%25253A48%252520AM.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ktnAa5NDlSM/T4piQ_RMOkI/AAAAAAAAAt4/Xgvg2B9BDwg/s500/Photo%252520Apr%25252015%25252C%2525202012%2525201%25253A48%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1334676569550.5073" class="alignright" width="128" height="160" alt=""></a></span></div>Excited yet? Well there are several ways to enter, two of which can be done on a daily basis - earning you die-hard fashion fans additional entries.<br><br><span style="font-size: small;"><strong>Entry Rules:</strong></span><br><ul><li>In order to enter, you must first describe in the comments section of this post why you would love tickets to Fashion Week Cleveland <strong>AND</strong> post on twitter, "I just entered @LifeLoveCake's contest for a chance to win free tickets to @CLE_FashionWeek & you can too: bit.ly/IJNn6d" Contestants will earn one entry total for doing both tasks.</li><li>Once you've completed the initial entry tasks above you can earn one (1) additional entry by following @CLE_FashionWeek and @LifeLoveCake on Twitter. Don't worry, if you are already follow us you will automatically receive an additional entry.</li><li>Just cant get enough fashion and really want to win? Increase your chances by posting daily on twitter, "I'm a fashionista and I've entered to win tickets to @CLE_FashionWeek. Interested? Enter the @LifeLoveCake giveaway here: bit.ly/IJNn6d" Contestants will earn one entry for every time they post the above tweet, with a one entry per day maximum.</li><li>Lastly, contestants can post a pic of themselves on Twitter wearing their most fashionable outfit accompanied with the following message: "@CLE_FashionWeek and @LifeLoveCake, I love this outfit because...", giving a brief description of your style sense, for another chance to win. Contests will earn one entry for doing this, limit one entry per day maximum.</li></ul>Entries will be accepted until 12:00 p.m. on Sunday, April 22, 2012. Winners will then be chosen at random. <span style="font-size: small;">Good luck!</span><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HM7G9LQ8kKM/T4piOmuWlFI/AAAAAAAAAtg/zXG6-wQzo7g/s500/Photo%252520Apr%25252015%25252C%2525202012%2525201%25253A47%252520AM.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title=""><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HM7G9LQ8kKM/T4piOmuWlFI/AAAAAAAAAtg/zXG6-wQzo7g/s500/Photo%252520Apr%25252015%25252C%2525202012%2525201%25253A47%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1334676569628.6863" class="aligncenter" width="240" height="398" alt=""></a></div><p> </p>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-25362191063079172562012-04-10T17:40:00.000-04:002012-04-10T19:30:26.746-04:00Chocolate Transfer Sheets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-vT7mCiiQTMY/T4SZc6Y-NqI/AAAAAAAAAtM/Y0yvBj1buqY/s500/Photo%252520Apr%2525201%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A18%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-vT7mCiiQTMY/T4SZc6Y-NqI/AAAAAAAAAtM/Y0yvBj1buqY/s500/Photo%252520Apr%2525201%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A18%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1334100575127.1692" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="307" height="512"></a></div><p> I recently discovered the beauty, and ease, of transfer sheets at my local baking supply store. For $2.99 I purchased one 11 x 17 Happy Easter sheet, which I cut in half to allow for two flavors. Paired with a $3.99 bag of mint chocolate melting chips and a $3.99 bag of butterscotch melting chips, you've got yourself a fairly inexpensive, homemade Easter gift.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-KrWX8GMQfNQ/T4SZXSGbF6I/AAAAAAAAAs8/wq2OyA1VnO8/s500/Photo%252520Apr%2525201%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A22%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title=""><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-KrWX8GMQfNQ/T4SZXSGbF6I/AAAAAAAAAs8/wq2OyA1VnO8/s312/Photo%252520Apr%2525201%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A22%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1334100575042.907" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="312" height="187"></a></div><p>The instructions were easy enough. Melt the chips in a double boiler (I add in a little vegetable oil for smoothness and easier spreading).</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-PzxY05ihm2I/T4SZZl4tJ_I/AAAAAAAAAtE/E17MqPNGfn0/s500/Photo%252520Apr%2525201%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A17%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-PzxY05ihm2I/T4SZZl4tJ_I/AAAAAAAAAtE/E17MqPNGfn0/s500/Photo%252520Apr%2525201%25252C%2525202012%2525209%25253A17%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1334100575119.3132" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="307" height="512"></a></div><p>Once melted, pour over the correct side of the transfer sheet (the writing should be backwards and the text should be raised off the sheet), and spread to desired thickness.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-VDDJISeqKSg/T4SZTxKFRrI/AAAAAAAAAs0/Bn2lxauWCPU/s500/Photo%252520Apr%2525202%25252C%2525202012%25252012%25253A07%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-VDDJISeqKSg/T4SZTxKFRrI/AAAAAAAAAs0/Bn2lxauWCPU/s406/Photo%252520Apr%2525202%25252C%2525202012%25252012%25253A07%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1334100575098.8433" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="406" height="243"></a></div><p>Allow to cool at room temperature for one hour or in the fridge for 30 minutes. Flip the chocolate over and peel off the transfer sheet. The images will remain on the chocolate.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-3IUaWwcjxtA/T4SZPWEH_-I/AAAAAAAAAss/op2XDBkiYsE/s500/Photo%252520Apr%2525202%25252C%2525202012%25252012%25253A12%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-3IUaWwcjxtA/T4SZPWEH_-I/AAAAAAAAAss/op2XDBkiYsE/s403/Photo%252520Apr%2525202%25252C%2525202012%25252012%25253A12%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1334100575107.7869" class="aligncenter" width="403" height="242" alt=""></a></div><p>Unlike me, be sure to go with the correct color chocolates based on the color of the text. My mint chocolate was a good choice, but the butterscotch wasn't. Not to mention, the butterscotch did not melt smoothly and came out all lumpy. Since it was just for my family, I still sent it, but if i was using it for more professional purposes, I probably would have trashed it. Or, let's be honest, eat it myself.</p><p>Once the chocolate has cooled you can break it into smaller squares for serving. </p><p>Transfer sheets are typically available, or can be ordered through, most local specialty baking supply stores, or online at <a href="http://www.globalsugarart.com" target="_blank" title=""><strong>www.globalsugarart.com</strong></a>, <a href="http://www.customchocolateshop.com" target="_blank" title=""><strong>www.customchocolateshop.com</strong></a> or <strong><a href="http://www.bakedeco.com" target="_blank" title="">www.bakedeco.com.</a></strong></p><p> </p><p> </p>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-21317734389963030072012-04-04T22:00:00.001-04:002012-04-04T22:02:50.008-04:00St. Patrick's Day Droid DropAhhhhhhh, I've been so bad at posting for a while, but I have a (lame) excuse. My iPad came in the mail and I've been so distracted, playing with it every night. Bad excuse, I know, but I'm back. With a little bit late, St. Patty's Day themed, Droid Drop.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwe5-v0jbztMizpNGEiWQZq8wDcePoBC_9Pu3xsVmnShTw4JDTaehQzpiMzF3yeuemEKG2cyJmBXJ6ORfjo2R02Qxe7ELyRQ9QZYtc2OECF7mqmdqu2a2Df3FdsywnYYV6P6-w6Pmf1pxT/s1600/IMAG0752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwe5-v0jbztMizpNGEiWQZq8wDcePoBC_9Pu3xsVmnShTw4JDTaehQzpiMzF3yeuemEKG2cyJmBXJ6ORfjo2R02Qxe7ELyRQ9QZYtc2OECF7mqmdqu2a2Df3FdsywnYYV6P6-w6Pmf1pxT/s320/IMAG0752.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My fashion for the day. A play on Kiss Me I'm Irish, since I'm not really an Ohioan (Colorado Wa-what!) This was a present from my hubby for St. Patty's Day last year. It's a product of the uber-popular <a href="http://www.cleclothingco.com/" target="_blank"><b>Cleveland Clothing Company</b></a>!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzenvZSdYsZQkD8lDsBCRrngMdtn0YOELQZqMkVTOsiU2qYzaxaEp9sB1NcyY4ltf3HnZonJsVul3SESDW4WbXDa3nWm2C8MrmNXsX7UGqfk5edUiEj753J6VbBKTjUd-sN96f0MOFdQeV/s1600/IMAG0620.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzenvZSdYsZQkD8lDsBCRrngMdtn0YOELQZqMkVTOsiU2qYzaxaEp9sB1NcyY4ltf3HnZonJsVul3SESDW4WbXDa3nWm2C8MrmNXsX7UGqfk5edUiEj753J6VbBKTjUd-sN96f0MOFdQeV/s320/IMAG0620.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breck's outfit for the day. A t-shirt my dad had made when we were younger (one of like 25 mind you) so that all of his friends and family could "advertise" his adamant belief that Notre Dame is French, therefore should not be called the fighting Irish. He FORCED us to wear this men's XL shirts to grade school every year for St. Patty's day. There's only a handful left and we treasure them dearly now. They've held up well for being 20 years old, but are clearly worn out.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUJetinCYBkyEGdYyeUkS1xES8SPzQvsRigDYUAVwh59e7Zp50fVZVfA5lDYJF0wagx1tHXJ7MhiMsLuWD7mgIqdnCMNWGXq6DzagNz_Vdhe8BUsweMeCci6ZwxJQcDLjR_yyH0Ad551-1/s1600/IMAG0682.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUJetinCYBkyEGdYyeUkS1xES8SPzQvsRigDYUAVwh59e7Zp50fVZVfA5lDYJF0wagx1tHXJ7MhiMsLuWD7mgIqdnCMNWGXq6DzagNz_Vdhe8BUsweMeCci6ZwxJQcDLjR_yyH0Ad551-1/s320/IMAG0682.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dyed green carnations from the hubby, a tradition three years in the making. Love it!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgUDDxCYFC1snmF119CZWvMqMaLaTmjG8lotaTaRMGvmLZ0Q5HOgHSWtsmYIBQGPmZ8Nhu2GgiHORR7AA6Mb8XLjdoxUlxmLj8okN2sVHyS_ucDtp1HSbP4RqWNrozOcPj_E30Ml6rAHWh/s1600/IMAG0628.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgUDDxCYFC1snmF119CZWvMqMaLaTmjG8lotaTaRMGvmLZ0Q5HOgHSWtsmYIBQGPmZ8Nhu2GgiHORR7AA6Mb8XLjdoxUlxmLj8okN2sVHyS_ucDtp1HSbP4RqWNrozOcPj_E30Ml6rAHWh/s320/IMAG0628.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The crowded streets of East 4th. Downtown Cleveland had a record 500,000+ people, mostly thanks to the holiday falling on a Saturday. I get super-claustrophobic in large crowds so we quickly made our way up to the <a href="http://www.houseofblues.com/venues/clubvenues/cleveland/" target="_blank"><b>Foundation Room of the House of Blues</b></a>. The perfect spot to watch the crowds and feel like you were a part of the day, while in the relaxed setting of a roomy, private bar and empty bathrooms. This was truly my saving grace for the day.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The biggest glass of beer we came across. Smart guy though, bagged ice to keep it cold without watering it down.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHyCL8GwX4bPxXyhVl6lNDRL6h0eh7-1NdSB_ga256sg4-qdUfDSKnJypAm9Qwp3WPyAQL5S2UtuA4RIdj-MF_4XgXTfvM1rvBP2wzC8p1eaoAsXc2ENyQmC9L9T9IohF8zO4pWqP6aHcr/s1600/IMAG0626.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHyCL8GwX4bPxXyhVl6lNDRL6h0eh7-1NdSB_ga256sg4-qdUfDSKnJypAm9Qwp3WPyAQL5S2UtuA4RIdj-MF_4XgXTfvM1rvBP2wzC8p1eaoAsXc2ENyQmC9L9T9IohF8zO4pWqP6aHcr/s320/IMAG0626.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yet another view of East 4th. Since the hubby started out the day at 7am with breakfast at <b><a href="http://www.barlouieamerica.com/locations/cleveland.aspx" target="_blank">Bar Louie</a></b> (no thank you), he was done for by 5pm and we were in bed by 8pm. So old!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3678524728449414395.post-64575114037576465902012-03-14T17:03:00.004-04:002012-03-14T17:08:23.464-04:00Wine Wednesday - Dalton 2008 Alma<div style="text-align: center;">
2008 Alma, <a href="http://www.dalton-winery.com/" target="_blank"><strong>Dalton Vineyards</strong></a> of Upper Galilee, a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Cabernet Franc.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMmGGiUSnCUcyHwJfnUm_Fzsgrsqz_4Nl4Ez28C4HvDFY-ngHe5gvsbxvNIO86eJ1riQmURVYG4u1G8r3paazY6XreTtg0TIALrX0oyYdNtITLngEng-1oqGHuOD0ZifsxhPg-_i-f3O4X/s1600/IMAG0551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMmGGiUSnCUcyHwJfnUm_Fzsgrsqz_4Nl4Ez28C4HvDFY-ngHe5gvsbxvNIO86eJ1riQmURVYG4u1G8r3paazY6XreTtg0TIALrX0oyYdNtITLngEng-1oqGHuOD0ZifsxhPg-_i-f3O4X/s400/IMAG0551.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>
We visited this Kosher, Israeli winery situated in the Upper Galilee region during our trip to Israel in July of last year for a friend's wedding. TSA rules allow for 3 bottles of wine per person in your checked luggage, so 6 total for the two of us, but we snuck on a 7th. Shhh. We've loved all of the Dalton wines so far, and opened this Alma blend on Friday as we relaxed at home with out of town guests. The overall consensus, tasty.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU2sVxAym_2YDN_pBsWnXqIYp1HZfTwRijSN1U9guOvmJy2w-XRHBi9MvKA4K5bCivupy5JT25knuf8W3z4WD7wt0RJotFBtZNEjSWd0-0vVaCMp3W_8ppbD-1q2Y-OD4k3-mZC-JY-Uu2/s1600/IMAG0554.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU2sVxAym_2YDN_pBsWnXqIYp1HZfTwRijSN1U9guOvmJy2w-XRHBi9MvKA4K5bCivupy5JT25knuf8W3z4WD7wt0RJotFBtZNEjSWd0-0vVaCMp3W_8ppbD-1q2Y-OD4k3-mZC-JY-Uu2/s400/IMAG0554.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>
Here's a more technical review from a user (Daniel Rogov) on <strong><a href="http://www.wineloverspage.com/forum/village/viewtopic.php?f=29&t=37711" target="_blank">Wine Lovers Page</a></strong>: "A full-bodied blend of 47% each Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot with 6% Cabernet Franc. Deep and dark, with gently caressing tannins and moderate notes of spicy cedarwood, opens to reveal an array of wild berries, currants and citrus peel, those hinting of roasted herbs and espresso coffee. Drink from release–2015. Score 91."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrBYtBiffKYo5m5RjgpRHKd-FbuRzRIujIMia_CbWbNcHffn0ndrp6SqBkb_vaR4_AfmthFOgnvDtRiK7NI7DwlHjREoKXKjDgQm6PxC3RiXzpa_g2VGn90bRZzVXJX5uq4Kbutvpym001/s1600/FxCam_1331344558855.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrBYtBiffKYo5m5RjgpRHKd-FbuRzRIujIMia_CbWbNcHffn0ndrp6SqBkb_vaR4_AfmthFOgnvDtRiK7NI7DwlHjREoKXKjDgQm6PxC3RiXzpa_g2VGn90bRZzVXJX5uq4Kbutvpym001/s320/FxCam_1331344558855.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09728633733727442012noreply@blogger.com0