tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64628612327563927072024-03-05T19:01:55.111-08:00TIFFERBOBWHAT'S YOUR PROB?Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.comBlogger209125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-33036372616381309622013-12-20T13:30:00.001-08:002014-07-21T23:54:27.148-07:00How My Daughter Learned the Truth About SantaMy Grace is in-the-know about Santa. She asked me last month if Santa was real and I gave her the line, "If you don't believe then he will quit bringing you gifts." Then, I said a silent prayer and hoped that she would buy it, but her quest only intensified. She asked again, "Mom, I just want to know the truth?" The truth, I couldn't tell her. I told her to go down the hall and ask her dad because I knew Scott would be braver than I. After a long time she came back in tears. She sat on my lap and cried. "I can't believe, I believed it," she finally said. I told her not to feel bad, we all believed at one point. <br />
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Later this week, she said a student in her class threw a glue stick at her, hitting her in the forehead when she said she did not believe Santa was real. I explained, that he still wanted to believe and was angry when something contradicted his belief. She said, "Yeah, so I just told him I did believe." I told her never to compromise her beliefs to please someone else, even when those beliefs make them angry. It's a hard lesson to learn.<br />
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This might be the most depressing Christmas post ever! Merry Christmas anyway!<br />
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Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-35544866551738644102012-07-09T13:28:00.002-07:002014-01-15T23:28:25.031-08:00Hello Sunshine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have made my own version of the Hello Sunshine sign that I have been stalking on Pinterest. It needs a little more sanding to give it a weathered look but, I am happy with it. It makes me smile. And who doesn't need a smile?Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-77237656920095546682012-04-15T12:58:00.007-07:002014-01-15T23:26:59.352-08:00As You Save, So Will You Prosper, World Bank<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG4O6oyfAQZ77quMDo24n1Y6Df1JESXzjGOPngz3bT-pEZuqw485GqKk0eM0E8drZ7JFXyGIQUUmVqR8TJWVSX-LLA5dMOMTLmKi3_cqqU53voNO4tyHNhM73c7gyQB7bZX2pA0_f3dT1Q/s1600/IMG_9528_edited-1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG4O6oyfAQZ77quMDo24n1Y6Df1JESXzjGOPngz3bT-pEZuqw485GqKk0eM0E8drZ7JFXyGIQUUmVqR8TJWVSX-LLA5dMOMTLmKi3_cqqU53voNO4tyHNhM73c7gyQB7bZX2pA0_f3dT1Q/s400/IMG_9528_edited-1.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731726140500575490" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a>I have a small globe collection, it is growing slowly. Yesterday, Scott brought this antique world bank home. He is thoughtful, in the gift giving kind of way. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGXLGRqJrNjI4SX35j5hYUT6UPgzxJgP-R5yuieVyE6ESiS8_olSqVkxhswbbzJMU4XxLO2e8ewbbLRKMlanra6i_hb7u-RmL7Au-iuD07JnGNsg8Lb0wkXWiJWARFURZl-I-1l-T869wg/s1600/IMG_9539_edited-1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGXLGRqJrNjI4SX35j5hYUT6UPgzxJgP-R5yuieVyE6ESiS8_olSqVkxhswbbzJMU4XxLO2e8ewbbLRKMlanra6i_hb7u-RmL7Au-iuD07JnGNsg8Lb0wkXWiJWARFURZl-I-1l-T869wg/s400/IMG_9539_edited-1.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731725077165827362" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 267px;" /></a>Has the whole world in his hands.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixptnncS35E9pQpgqgaGhMCBTbJzr-Nh8ZZ6xQfZ5LDBnfmcOPQtPxMsPpzTO4N3Xj4wMiF40nwWEva3qF_vQ1FxqWAColawDJ5fmBAXwfbyIPRWlqIdNaXOUub7cVvlbTAaSaKAHW0UTj/s1600/IMG_9548_edited-1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixptnncS35E9pQpgqgaGhMCBTbJzr-Nh8ZZ6xQfZ5LDBnfmcOPQtPxMsPpzTO4N3Xj4wMiF40nwWEva3qF_vQ1FxqWAColawDJ5fmBAXwfbyIPRWlqIdNaXOUub7cVvlbTAaSaKAHW0UTj/s400/IMG_9548_edited-1.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731724371652558578" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 267px;" /></a>Finding her place in the world.<br />
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"We are what we think. All that we are, arises from our thoughts. With our thoughts we make the world." - Buddha<br />
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Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-68386181097214616982012-04-07T14:43:00.002-07:002014-07-21T23:58:46.997-07:00Hiking<div>
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Hidden Falls was far better for the kids. It was a shorter ride and a longer hike. </div>
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Grouse Falls was out in the bush! I was worried a bear might get us. The road kept getting smaller and smaller until the trees were scraping the car and we were driving through snow. </div>
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We are going to Lake Clementine next...or so Scott has planned. It has taken me until my adulthood to realize that I thoroughly enjoy nature and the outdoors. It has a rep<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggEsujwdPqGCvlwRfMy_Xce1rbAkcQ8QMekGCk7KiqmFeY7DFOiAd_ZpzBkZJ-D-7mLHUWS5y0lFSX7xUMN7ui-X_TKxUHKZtNrjHqqvigGzXypvOcwztJvAkusSa6_eCNTToSnnVQOGf4/s1600/IMG_9305.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggEsujwdPqGCvlwRfMy_Xce1rbAkcQ8QMekGCk7KiqmFeY7DFOiAd_ZpzBkZJ-D-7mLHUWS5y0lFSX7xUMN7ui-X_TKxUHKZtNrjHqqvigGzXypvOcwztJvAkusSa6_eCNTToSnnVQOGf4/s400/IMG_9305.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5728786562924240002" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 400px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 267px;" /></a>lenishing effect on me. </div>
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Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-51360899506779367552012-03-29T18:58:00.005-07:002014-01-15T23:04:46.815-08:00Spring BreakI have dropped off the face of blog world. Does anyone still blog these days? Facebook or Pinterest is the new currency of self-expression. Although, I am on both of those sites I find my little blog more of a home...and that may be, because I'm pretty sure NO ONE reads this thing. Myself included.<br />
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Both kids are officially off for Spring break. They have been biking and tenting in the backyard when it isn't raining. I planted my annuals and most of my wine barrel garden. I have a set of three inch tomato plants set to be planted on my window sill.<br />
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I've been sick for the past couple weeks. Hacking a lung is never fun. I'm rarely sick. I am surprised it's hung on for so long. I started taking garlic pills per suggestion of a friend. I'm desperate. Being sick is NOT my thing. Some people love the attention and time to lounge. I just find it tiring.<br />
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I'm hoping to squeeze in a short camping trip this next week. It's always nice to get out of town for a night or two. We just started camping as a family. My parents never took us when I was a kid. Well, unless you count the summer we lived in tents when we moved to Alaska...then I guess, we went for one long camping trip. So, I'm hoping for a quick trip. We will see, if the rain stops then it just might happen. I'm looking forward to s'mores and tinfoil meals...call me crazy!Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-36178240642086998922011-07-18T08:50:00.000-07:002014-01-15T23:11:11.540-08:00Ball Perfect Mason<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD_41_7XmZi1tiYB_1XGa9KBh30cgm3DYAAr3RSbfdXhendxwlx6x79j_yU6__zVKFaCSODGKLQVT2gvIn7mG3ZHzpesLYFyymjVzbH5okYymdafUJ47IO1b5ZnIM3lUPtPgqjdE6PEToh/s1600/IMG_5156_edited-1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD_41_7XmZi1tiYB_1XGa9KBh30cgm3DYAAr3RSbfdXhendxwlx6x79j_yU6__zVKFaCSODGKLQVT2gvIn7mG3ZHzpesLYFyymjVzbH5okYymdafUJ47IO1b5ZnIM3lUPtPgqjdE6PEToh/s400/IMG_5156_edited-1.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630735922784383266" style="cursor: hand; float: left; height: 400px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 267px;" /></a>I hit the mother load this past Saturday with my sister Amber. We have both been canning and searching for cheap canning jars. While out hitting the local garage sales, I would give my little shtick and ask, "Do you have any canning jars you'd be willing to sale?" I'd either hear they sold some earlier in the morning or those are too valuable to sale. Until, we went to Dave's house and as we were leaving Amber said, "So, are you going ask?"<br />
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Dave was having a long conversation with someone and so I finally got up my nerve, butted in and asked if he had any jars. And he said he did, in the garage. He explained he was going to put them out the following weekend for another garage sale. Inside he had shelves and shelves of jars. Some were old mayo jars and we skipped over those. In all, I got 35 Kerr/Ball jars for 28 cents a jar! A couple still had the sticker on the side from when they were last canned in 1979. </div>
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Anyone that preserves knows you have to replenish your jars often due to giving away your pears or whatnot to friends and family. So, I was happy to find them. After washing thirty years of dust away and sterilizing them, they look pretty good. </div>
Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-17718992954694507242011-07-14T22:15:00.000-07:002011-07-14T23:33:44.587-07:00Do you believe...<img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 267px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629458988987969298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVm_KRJvmwP4s0hUdzMkO_v-esr6I469qCeZoa567s-S7pYHLswVCPwy7tsTHxZd4oZHA74bIkteI2jiZB2WSu1chnd_3aNOIurR-Un59pYasyZyaSbrrFH9SsX81n0LfWuaRwEOaZ_red/s400/IMG_4988_edited-2.JPG" />I have been living on faith and caffeine. These two things go hand-n-hand right? The caffeine carries me thru when my faith wanes. I am a spiritual being having a human experience and a bubbly soda just makes me happy.<br /><br />I've received a gift recently. A miracle, if you will. Do you believe in such a thing anymore? I do. What is needed for a miracle? Faith and an immeasurable amount of prayers. Or at least, thats what I've found.<br /><br />But as with most things, there has been a give and take. One stress replaced by another. One door opened, one closed. I can now move in faith, because for so long I was stuck in fear.<br /><br /><br /><p>"...My actions demonstrate my willingness to be helped. And time after time, the help I need is given to me."</p><br /><br /><p></p>Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-26049841476904343332011-06-11T16:03:00.000-07:002014-01-15T23:14:08.882-08:00Tomato is a fruit, but it is eaten as a vegetable.I canned tomatoes this week. Until a couple years ago I didn't know the joy that preserving brings. I had no idea that jars of preserved fruit could bring so much happiness. Am I crazy for thinking so? Maybe. However, it is gratifying to put them on the shelf and know they are there for when I need them for salsa, spaghetti sauce, stews, and casseroles.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC_Q017c-P4LbdC1V88x4658Moycykg9NeRjWxRXQblfXgJ4pxnkw240NXsH2QPu2ACd2tb0ZcppORxIuxHLWP5jSt1Ys_PuQnpfqW5RK8-mVMkBGlEJ5p469u_WUOLYZN4JqZfeQPRnY0/s1600/Yellow_Pear_Tomatoes%255B1%255D.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC_Q017c-P4LbdC1V88x4658Moycykg9NeRjWxRXQblfXgJ4pxnkw240NXsH2QPu2ACd2tb0ZcppORxIuxHLWP5jSt1Ys_PuQnpfqW5RK8-mVMkBGlEJ5p469u_WUOLYZN4JqZfeQPRnY0/s320/Yellow_Pear_Tomatoes%255B1%255D.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617108969929690226" style="cursor: hand; float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px;" /></a>I'm hoping to preserve some more later this summer from my own yard. I planted patio and lemon pear tomatoes. They are doing well. They are all green right now. I'm hoping the birds will leave them alone this year. I discovered last year that once they started eating one tomato to just leave it on the vine and they would leave the rest alone until it was mostly eaten. I read somewhere that as gardeners we can't expect to reap 100% of our crop. That it would be selfish not to allow the bugs and birds or whatever else some too. I don't know if I entirely agree with the idea, but it does have a nice give-n-take with nature that I like. Now, just don't talk to me about the snails eating my flowers because I'm not as kind to them.Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-50985190605999271012011-06-04T22:18:00.000-07:002011-06-11T15:51:48.546-07:00Date NightI have the crew (a.k.a. my young nieces and nephews) are over tonight. The boys are giving us a fashion show in Grace's clothes and the girls have been playing eye-spy for too long. I'm not sure either one of them are enjoying it any longer.<br /><br />My sisters are out on dates with their husbands. It's nice to have family so close. I'm returning the favor, Scott and I went out last night and watched the new X-men movie. It was good. We watched it in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">XD</span>...which wasn't much different, only louder. We also walked around the mall. A treat for me, not so much for Scott. It was a compromise really, window shopping for me and X-Men for him. We are some crazy married folk.<br /><br />Goodnight, one of my sisters is knocking at the door.Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-1444122730507577912011-05-16T18:19:00.001-07:002011-05-16T18:29:39.181-07:00Outdoor Room<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2I3l-mQ8FPkO00u7CgH8kg_nK33AC479fePf-qmVakzASEp0dURMQesBEa2k1h5genFVIdzMvA3EZYfatws4zsYB6Any77RFovIBAfan4XrA1dP321lY7mKW055OZs3NVtQoFNIlZ93E/s1600/IMG_3987.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607488657449568930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2I3l-mQ8FPkO00u7CgH8kg_nK33AC479fePf-qmVakzASEp0dURMQesBEa2k1h5genFVIdzMvA3EZYfatws4zsYB6Any77RFovIBAfan4XrA1dP321lY7mKW055OZs3NVtQoFNIlZ93E/s400/IMG_3987.JPG" /></a> It's taken me a while to post the finished bench and chairs. They are so fun and cheery. I've been enjoying our new outdoor room. The kids have too.Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-58022271193748413952011-05-05T20:43:00.000-07:002011-05-05T20:51:15.241-07:00Grandma’s Irises<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvhcoJYOifkvLpyG1LQ5RYLrvv7XTK14yp49S8gCxIZvj5bFHhA4bAwa9C4-e8_gzqN7QMef2X4TeJaVA9QLMFglrZ8_kNnz2HITx-SxLqYGwbdLbA_d04eENjtSHUDUTYujZgVqp7O5Wn/s1600/IMG_3981_edited-1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603444894579303138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvhcoJYOifkvLpyG1LQ5RYLrvv7XTK14yp49S8gCxIZvj5bFHhA4bAwa9C4-e8_gzqN7QMef2X4TeJaVA9QLMFglrZ8_kNnz2HITx-SxLqYGwbdLbA_d04eENjtSHUDUTYujZgVqp7O5Wn/s400/IMG_3981_edited-1.jpg" /></a><br /><br />For the past week I’ve been watching the irises bloom around the neighborhood in anticipation of my own. Long story short, my uncle got some bulbs from the old house that my grandma had planted. Then at a family reunion he auctioned them off. My brother bought them and shared the bulbs. I planted and watched them grow.<br /><br />This week I whispered to the dark purple bud, “I can’t wait to see what your going to look like!”<br /><br />And as if in response, the next morning it had bloomed.<br /><br /><br />My grandma’s irises are growing in my backyard. And maybe some day they will grow in my granddaughters garden.Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-21131968622764316122011-04-28T18:58:00.000-07:002014-01-15T23:22:09.850-08:004Noah turned four this week. Four came so fast! I know E-V-E-R-Y-O-N-E says that, but it's because it's true. Kids grow like weeds on steroids. He was so excited to have his cousins over for a party. He wore his spiderman costume during the party and the night before as pajamas. I love that kid.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrRj2kwTJ94n4Yzyd4x8dtjRmHwD7iBuPhcV2i8u36kJRRf0g-r1JZNGmkmvyJ4j3-FDMIE_MwW5NQ3IKEoF9Ztrs55JDcHKH8Wut3Nn_yDZ5BBqpXEeRM21X1B1KUs_dACKo2E5XqSNql/s1600/IMG_3828.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrRj2kwTJ94n4Yzyd4x8dtjRmHwD7iBuPhcV2i8u36kJRRf0g-r1JZNGmkmvyJ4j3-FDMIE_MwW5NQ3IKEoF9Ztrs55JDcHKH8Wut3Nn_yDZ5BBqpXEeRM21X1B1KUs_dACKo2E5XqSNql/s400/IMG_3828.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600819894796991138" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 267px;" /></a> Giving me some sweetness.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy01jEzRwezwdVk7oHTA4FBdUbVXdZLF8dkGVf8DHhfIBxKmR8w9b6ISgJgfXWVNvIuE6qBYBs32RXQZHmNaYYjIHnF3pLLwoezfW8iID_AqATtP3HkcgkU3NEc15D2aD3EEhYjpr2MLeN/s1600/IMG_3935.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy01jEzRwezwdVk7oHTA4FBdUbVXdZLF8dkGVf8DHhfIBxKmR8w9b6ISgJgfXWVNvIuE6qBYBs32RXQZHmNaYYjIHnF3pLLwoezfW8iID_AqATtP3HkcgkU3NEc15D2aD3EEhYjpr2MLeN/s400/IMG_3935.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600819763144303442" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 267px;" /></a> After the song and candles.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpL8H03W11T6RojqhXZyT_PSjFITTOJJuhCWzyLHfzSFKju__jE6OSdj0Hjxqg8u1Z0JJOoIVrfHkFKh-DHwNS0HDFd97rv6D0EJm4zsZbq3w_q_qgwfQXqeJjlTUf8MKhlh1p-veP55JO/s1600/IMG_3834_edited-1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpL8H03W11T6RojqhXZyT_PSjFITTOJJuhCWzyLHfzSFKju__jE6OSdj0Hjxqg8u1Z0JJOoIVrfHkFKh-DHwNS0HDFd97rv6D0EJm4zsZbq3w_q_qgwfQXqeJjlTUf8MKhlh1p-veP55JO/s400/IMG_3834_edited-1.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600819453376062466" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 251px;" /></a> Shooting spiderwebs my way.</div>
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Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-33045314918210245092011-04-14T19:41:00.001-07:002011-04-15T12:38:01.789-07:00My new favorite saying...<span style="font-size:180%;">The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off. </span>Sometimes the truth of a situation is so obvious and yet so masked. With multiple diversion tactics, the truth can be hard to find. Some of the things I was taught growing up weren't real truths...they were someone else's truth. And so, it's up to me to find my own truths. Find what I know to be true. And to be completely honest...some of the things I find to be true make me truely angry! <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:180%;">But</span>,</span> after I accept the truth for what it is...good, bad or ugly. It's up to me to create a new truth. Not for anyone but myself and that is liberating.Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-58184317440565740322011-03-22T19:26:00.000-07:002011-03-22T20:04:06.583-07:00ProjectsI'm redoing some outdoor furniture that my mom gave me. Thanks mom!<br /><br />Today the kids and I dewebbed, sanded and washed down the two chairs and bench. They need more sanding, but the two pieces of sand paper we had wore-out before we were done. I'll pick some up tomorrow. I haven't decided on the color to paint them. Bright? Mellow white? Blue? Teal? I just don't know.<br /><br />They need some TLC, but I love a project. <br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587101448791475090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvyM9Xvl9IcphEWcnc19tOWVKdSgpVYixbGHNNwpyd-cZzOUilckdzAt6vaNinfjqDbk9w-08oiOtm4trvgdts6HJBXYkE-CB-ox7_lhs9NGwoadPB9i9j16iMM5BvHBtzlpSRvf_E9Flx/s400/IMG_3657.JPG" /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587101319748637074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpPKZtcTL-3jiExmWPfJcSBoeBtcGBODjauUchlLo8fuZ-gZLdZULsdk2EyTFdFCF6pC5Jtm3eKfzndod8WVWtZwB0zKIbHjgx_y5iOtcV0-2SEKp-z6E_-kZh41V5WBCB9lLk0bCC5yUY/s400/IMG_3655.JPG" /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587101103276644626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik52tHJ4onTu8qT-asEKoEZd0MnHFoShlSWqed6Jl0joa43KwKxO_Bgy7qxDT4TIpMJs1rdGppp8lAki4QbVRgO4Sed_MC8qJZjR4ZNweI5RyycuERZP_nVBTR_pzeMTz8jYkqDyYPkPb8/s400/IMG_3662.JPG" />Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-7003431900413185272011-02-20T19:54:00.000-08:002014-01-15T23:25:17.059-08:00Family Gym<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-eKCcOcldVL-4PXhBPj5eSRQeuPHe4VDbjBP_3SfuvDbO2_GQUEajZEYdP8FW31ouJb27IMrH7u7NMja4PfxuQviuXEeXwSM3P6rtmixjy8DN0_ch0t7ZEe3Dle6L__myydzydVJ7485/s1600/IMG_3522_edited-1.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-eKCcOcldVL-4PXhBPj5eSRQeuPHe4VDbjBP_3SfuvDbO2_GQUEajZEYdP8FW31ouJb27IMrH7u7NMja4PfxuQviuXEeXwSM3P6rtmixjy8DN0_ch0t7ZEe3Dle6L__myydzydVJ7485/s400/IMG_3522_edited-1.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576194626692467906" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 267px;" /></a><br />
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The kids and I have been working out together. It is an interesting site to see. We don't have enough weights for all three of us...so Noah uses cans of veggies. He complains, but continues to use them instead of being left out. I should borrow some small weights from my mom.<br />
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As a side note, Grace has a ton of arm strength. She shocked me at the park. She flew across the monkey bars and then swung right around and came back. Which explains the large callouses on her hands.<br />
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My sister and I are going to do the 12K <a href="http://www.runrocklin.com/">Run Rocklin</a> race in April. I L-O-V-E races. I love the exuberant energy of the other runners. I love the firing of the gun at the beginning. The patter of tennis shoes on pavement and then getting the medal at the end. It's just a good time.<br />
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Anyhow, the front room is turning into a family gym. All we need now is a wall of mirrors.</div>
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Update: Grace has agreed to be my coach. She made me the list above.</div>
Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-55247161311120435762011-01-21T19:42:00.000-08:002011-02-15T22:26:49.545-08:00An UninviteAfter telling Noah to pick-up his toys and take them to his room.<br /><br /><br />He looked at me and said, "Your not invited to come to my birthday party."<br /><br /><br />To which I replied, "Oh yeah...I'm the person that orders the cake, decorates the house and buys the gifts. So, if I'm not invited then there is no party."<br /><br /><br />After a long pause and some thought. He said, "Actually, you can come to my birthday party."<br /><br /><br />And today he told me I could come to all of his parties.Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-5678732023629429062011-01-12T22:34:00.000-08:002011-01-13T08:57:38.590-08:0072 Hour Repack 2011Noah and I lugged in our 72-hour kits out of the garage to exchange the kids clothes and see what else could be added. Noah helped himself to a two year old granola bar from one of the backpacks while he watched me. I love a child that fends for himself. Less work for me.<br /><br />I'm glad I thought to change the clothes. Noah no longer wears a 3T or needs pull-ups. Grace is no longer a 5T. Not to mention, <span style="font-size:78%;">Scott's no longer a 34 inch waist. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">As you might <a href="http://tifferbobwhatsyourprob.blogspot.com/2009/02/72-hour-repack.html">remember</a>, Scott had us tape together whole sets of outfits. He mocked me when I asked about the tape residue and I was correct. There was some. I am a tactile person. If my clothes are uncomfortable I CANNOT deal. This is why I don't wear belts, large heavy sweaters, long shirts that cover my butt, or big boots. I want to feel comfortable, not contorted. This is why I don't follow many fashion trends. Although, I'm doing okay on the scarf thing. <span style="font-size:78%;">It does feel like someone is choking me at times. </span></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">I have issues people...don't judge me. Cause you have some too! </span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">Back on topic, I added some small toys for the kids. I read somewhere that they need a distraction. Noah helped pick-out some Lego's to put in his pack. </span>Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-30393315242267393222011-01-03T20:15:00.000-08:002011-01-03T20:46:01.016-08:00Our Own Brand of Crazy...Here are a few pictures that portray only a fraction of the "crazy" that happens here in our home.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR-UMWvTYQCOuIXqeyJgMh2RJQTRxHKx0FF8WbKzUcJVscYiMS1tLccByRij5OO2kQJNwORuoPxGYxjFQCeHx6eNt45jZds61IncL5CNFtAFHNqiNfqJktqaBebJ5a9b6h0XjoFM2I3ll8/s1600/IMG_2866_edited-1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558181652057146482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR-UMWvTYQCOuIXqeyJgMh2RJQTRxHKx0FF8WbKzUcJVscYiMS1tLccByRij5OO2kQJNwORuoPxGYxjFQCeHx6eNt45jZds61IncL5CNFtAFHNqiNfqJktqaBebJ5a9b6h0XjoFM2I3ll8/s400/IMG_2866_edited-1.jpg" /></a> Grace has carried Noah like this since he was a baby. She hasn't realized he's no longer a babe.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggdeb93BCj4wcFq045QLjWtq2eTSnNKHmxCVbc70t-Zndn_M7oN2TLkgAa65dyOjja94wO9lG9KeMDLgOstvkSWgvFiCinTYBE0bOBcD4haV4fdoenqNm-yilodvxJBK-5ZEpA4BZUSpWs/s1600/IMG_2875_edited-3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558181458115926482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggdeb93BCj4wcFq045QLjWtq2eTSnNKHmxCVbc70t-Zndn_M7oN2TLkgAa65dyOjja94wO9lG9KeMDLgOstvkSWgvFiCinTYBE0bOBcD4haV4fdoenqNm-yilodvxJBK-5ZEpA4BZUSpWs/s400/IMG_2875_edited-3.jpg" /></a>This girl, what a crazy snaggle toothed smile. How can so much joy reside in one body? </div><div><br /></div><div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlKhanxqmk6SPvHP2wsa8XROmDyalFwJX02Ow3USi9EP91j9gMgfH0KRTT9rjy4YTEe6QN2K87Ml4j653rUx9LQatJamhcVuJl8IaJz8iLsREk-tVfoOjCsyuSCeYwJgQXdE72_Rr_T3Zc/s1600/IMG_2882_edited-1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558181258402390690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlKhanxqmk6SPvHP2wsa8XROmDyalFwJX02Ow3USi9EP91j9gMgfH0KRTT9rjy4YTEe6QN2K87Ml4j653rUx9LQatJamhcVuJl8IaJz8iLsREk-tVfoOjCsyuSCeYwJgQXdE72_Rr_T3Zc/s400/IMG_2882_edited-1.jpg" /></a><br />I knew this guy was going to have a good sense-of-humor when he was a newborn and would belly laugh in his sleep.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4uWnoARoJuOq5IBvrXNknGsr01U9rGX9VJp4X-MP-FZpU3uww4pdRxNAqvBgzBDWC823nYSpy-HM6QXV3VjJz5jbf9brtu2kiQ_6d7YUZBngfpzZEAO81uHfPzEleVadv80c4YPi0V-Ig/s1600/IMG_2879_edited-2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558181042094895970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4uWnoARoJuOq5IBvrXNknGsr01U9rGX9VJp4X-MP-FZpU3uww4pdRxNAqvBgzBDWC823nYSpy-HM6QXV3VjJz5jbf9brtu2kiQ_6d7YUZBngfpzZEAO81uHfPzEleVadv80c4YPi0V-Ig/s400/IMG_2879_edited-2.jpg" /></a>I got a new camera. A Canon 7D...and we are in love. L-O-V-E, sweet love. Don't tell Scott...he doesn't need to know. </div></div></div>Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-66263381060651521882010-12-26T23:41:00.000-08:002010-12-26T23:56:05.544-08:00Boring BrownI'm typing this as my hair color develops. What color am I dying it? The usual...dark brown. Although, I've been thinking for a while now that I would like something different. Cause, I'm on this change kick. Blonde would be so fun....and terrible on my hair. But, I believe hair is meant to be grown, tortured, cut off and grown again. I have a confession to make. I am a big time hair abuser. That's right. I'm stepping out into the light of day on this one.<br /><br />I put away Christmas today after church. I walked in the door and knew it was already time to put it away. Scott and I tug-a-warred the tree apart. I didn't go full tilt on Christmas this year. So...the clean-up was pretty painless.<br /><br />I need to go wash out my hair...Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-35528732274666349822010-12-22T21:04:00.000-08:002010-12-22T21:55:45.791-08:00The Kids and SantaThese pictures are from Santa's Breakfast earlier this month. I'm terrible at updating...just kick me in the shins the next time you see me.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcsLzwRlLj0w_FzMtvUxqgb80cbygue6GORXjEB3vl4cg9V-dn-ZKFycyNQ9_hnEwbW91tM1vEvvHlwaUl0rwOtF-lKMNK3KGoy-3Mf61UwIXWyv2oACJ1UXCSwGtl6QH_PKne9iog2Ue8/s1600/IMG_1167.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553748955736317634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcsLzwRlLj0w_FzMtvUxqgb80cbygue6GORXjEB3vl4cg9V-dn-ZKFycyNQ9_hnEwbW91tM1vEvvHlwaUl0rwOtF-lKMNK3KGoy-3Mf61UwIXWyv2oACJ1UXCSwGtl6QH_PKne9iog2Ue8/s400/IMG_1167.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2djnHLLtNYGOQ2Qk9toPtOaIvt-2WEVQJBhiNmmQeFkEMUAjRF6pk6gxeIe5Y7luL0hwjDLvG0lwKz1bToW5OXtrSiN8ESiszWxvVFG1G1Aw22gfY40Njmv85rbt6sVvbEs4cjhcBdzt5/s1600/IMG_1165.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553748772260116370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2djnHLLtNYGOQ2Qk9toPtOaIvt-2WEVQJBhiNmmQeFkEMUAjRF6pk6gxeIe5Y7luL0hwjDLvG0lwKz1bToW5OXtrSiN8ESiszWxvVFG1G1Aw22gfY40Njmv85rbt6sVvbEs4cjhcBdzt5/s400/IMG_1165.JPG" /></a><br /><div>I'm getting that rundown, tired feeling. Accompanied with a sniffy nose and sore throat. I'm seldom sick. Maybe twice a year...if that. Sometimes, I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">succumb</span> to it. I take naps and wear pajamas all day. Other times, I try to ignore it. Go along, as if I'm not sick what-so-ever. That's what I have planned this time around. I can be sick on Monday, right? When the gifts are unwrapped and the parties are over. I'm off to take some Ester-C...</div></div>Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-88452905576164203502010-12-15T18:44:00.000-08:002010-12-15T23:37:55.189-08:00Clean ClothesMy dad says, "That new profile picture you put up on your blog puts ten years on you. I liked the other one better."<br /><br />To which I replied, "Wow, thanks for the honesty."<br /><br />And it might, but I like it any way...sorry dad. I'm not changing it, until I'm tired of seeing it.<br /><br />My Dad came and fixed both my washer and dryer yesterday. The washer was flooding and the dryer squeaked so loud I couldn't run it at night. He fixed the dryer with super glue. Maybe, I should start calling him MacGyver. I told him it was a Christmas miracle, we now have clean clothes. But, in my house a miracle comes with comedy. I reached into the pipe in the wall that the hot air goes out of to grab a big lump of lint. Erm, not lint...entirely, a dead bird covered in lint. Yuck!<br /><br />I've washed my hand many times and still can't touch my food with it.Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-1789459191867385822010-12-06T20:42:00.000-08:002010-12-06T21:33:13.995-08:00Change<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivcf0tnisg3Je-bH8Qn-hBtaoPLJuzJMNjEIkdB0V3Kf2NMyZI7L7QUee0Uq3SnyJ_NLeWQyIqS1CjDABwSmGNqTQkiGxHmPRw7k0-A3YgE1ghJ5E3FXZ3lxSjuXptAF7qGEpbTKx9zS-_/s1600/IMG_0768.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547809188498589298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivcf0tnisg3Je-bH8Qn-hBtaoPLJuzJMNjEIkdB0V3Kf2NMyZI7L7QUee0Uq3SnyJ_NLeWQyIqS1CjDABwSmGNqTQkiGxHmPRw7k0-A3YgE1ghJ5E3FXZ3lxSjuXptAF7qGEpbTKx9zS-_/s400/IMG_0768.JPG" /></a><br /><div>When I start changing things, I want to change everything. From the way I pull the car into the garage to the way I think about my life. My favorite quote right now is, "When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change." I love that. Why...because it's true. I don't have to do anything the same way twice...if it suits me. Up until now, I've been a creature of habit, and not all of them good. What's the saying, "the definition of insanity is repeating the same behavior over and over and expecting different results."<br /><br />I have stopped the insanity. Although, lasting change is hard to obtain, otherwise we'd all do it...right? We'd all be making these wonderful changes and stickin' to 'em. We'd all be at our ideal weight because we stuck to that New Years resolution ten years ago. You get the idea.<br /><br />What I'm trying to say is...if something isn't working for you, it's time for a change. It may be as simple as the way you are looking at the situation or it may mean doing a major rework of your life. In my case, it's been both. It's been both uncomfortable and refreshing to make so many changes. I'm evolving, nothing is set in stone and I'm learning to like that.</div>Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-71284864433068755482010-11-04T17:56:00.001-07:002010-11-04T18:22:29.857-07:00My Girl...Grace turned seven this month. Can we stop the clock? I really like seven. Seven brings a little wisdom with an unbridled enthusiasm. A great combination. She told me, "Everyone is good at something!" And she's right. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicFlo9KvftFDjbjmfY8gEZe3kRLP4ci5XUjR7PO8g-7kHWPUG5Y2tJZf6qNrOztHGkV1_plpEjwIk_ND_iuT3I6-GunSTvUlntCMLp0NOq4ZxYQaO1YlNjYkS9itX8-8TJpUrlypWfhg4W/s1600/IMG_3558_edited-1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535864672089229538" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicFlo9KvftFDjbjmfY8gEZe3kRLP4ci5XUjR7PO8g-7kHWPUG5Y2tJZf6qNrOztHGkV1_plpEjwIk_ND_iuT3I6-GunSTvUlntCMLp0NOq4ZxYQaO1YlNjYkS9itX8-8TJpUrlypWfhg4W/s400/IMG_3558_edited-1.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifQsI8MsKsLxr0MPxO44iGkCETqW78YVzwrXGb4HY3VDHW-WjrCT1KfE9vZ2x_jTNh6TprMJlVm7OgIYF5Qj1Y9lGeeUz1CDoiC3RbbOE8kDSoUEdtBUOly3CToe-ToCXx_o5Gn1svEcXZ/s1600/IMG_3567_edited-1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535864492460324498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifQsI8MsKsLxr0MPxO44iGkCETqW78YVzwrXGb4HY3VDHW-WjrCT1KfE9vZ2x_jTNh6TprMJlVm7OgIYF5Qj1Y9lGeeUz1CDoiC3RbbOE8kDSoUEdtBUOly3CToe-ToCXx_o5Gn1svEcXZ/s400/IMG_3567_edited-1.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWABwgcxU1D3Bz6NemjEXtvuAhVECPRNfzGunN5pXIIbrysqSA_xGZi4w0Hp0vUe-nv6IBUXSzmuQetxpOMBNRGsrcp7-ac6xOE-5GhEy-d7wsofVOtsg7R33TfpAafF4yGGTbJEut1s-j/s1600/IMG_3569_edited-1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535864304219167922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWABwgcxU1D3Bz6NemjEXtvuAhVECPRNfzGunN5pXIIbrysqSA_xGZi4w0Hp0vUe-nv6IBUXSzmuQetxpOMBNRGsrcp7-ac6xOE-5GhEy-d7wsofVOtsg7R33TfpAafF4yGGTbJEut1s-j/s400/IMG_3569_edited-1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7tf8aIaPfmUTrZH9m14yznKc0lDi9GUngIWRxheMA_puRPQ8CRc3znEyRKQ1uqwdAhqfCzg1Mr5NGfKgSmkSLvEuXbO_Q7EZ4Tm60FEUBAJLlC62YnaWFLbEH9VbxfvEjqlZmh2E3ply8/s1600/IMG_3570_edited-1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535864108713043842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7tf8aIaPfmUTrZH9m14yznKc0lDi9GUngIWRxheMA_puRPQ8CRc3znEyRKQ1uqwdAhqfCzg1Mr5NGfKgSmkSLvEuXbO_Q7EZ4Tm60FEUBAJLlC62YnaWFLbEH9VbxfvEjqlZmh2E3ply8/s400/IMG_3570_edited-1.jpg" /></a></div></div></div><br /><p align="center">Happy Birthday my Gracie Girl!</p><p> </p>Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-76693453377581158462010-10-11T14:00:00.000-07:002014-01-15T21:37:11.518-08:00Bo BoI dragged Noah (or Bo at our house) out on the front lawn today with the promise that I would take him to the park if he let me take his picture. He agreed to the proposition.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOB9gdLY7w7p6q-_pnVdK3FgVwXbVZ8osIpG8a920mTxROVcSwloC60tf24k96fmurWaw__n057mf9bvCLuaP9-8wL0KWu3cq9iLlhfIkXWnd1i7Ew8XV_vRekLFKW8Tgmz1ZgoVlEB5XA/s1600/IMG_2842_edited-1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOB9gdLY7w7p6q-_pnVdK3FgVwXbVZ8osIpG8a920mTxROVcSwloC60tf24k96fmurWaw__n057mf9bvCLuaP9-8wL0KWu3cq9iLlhfIkXWnd1i7Ew8XV_vRekLFKW8Tgmz1ZgoVlEB5XA/s400/IMG_2842_edited-1.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526896902181501714" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8qQ27o8BK3bb7o2yHNMkMYoGBnNGJ_GMl8eZow8F6zWe1NnZY31WAEAUBhRpzPQ1wfpn89hi0l2amW7oIaz96Q3hnk-sF286kyyxTbIrtW-mogR8U_rco73NmAvsKW78b4VFTxEtTF9FJ/s1600/IMG_2851_edited-2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8qQ27o8BK3bb7o2yHNMkMYoGBnNGJ_GMl8eZow8F6zWe1NnZY31WAEAUBhRpzPQ1wfpn89hi0l2amW7oIaz96Q3hnk-sF286kyyxTbIrtW-mogR8U_rco73NmAvsKW78b4VFTxEtTF9FJ/s400/IMG_2851_edited-2.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526896889774201986" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a> I love this picture, only because I know why he has that worried look. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOwyMKE9EXiWLpQ6QF1LZqnH8Efm_-nDNXeGCggSC-OVrjTd6GT924EifXPnwZypmjY02dPMuWc00Za4k6iS3ciWV-ep5GjqfokTXh44BDdCB52ePP-2Ub2QoIB0apnyjVgqxPzhzPOf8V/s1600/IMG_2846_edited-1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOwyMKE9EXiWLpQ6QF1LZqnH8Efm_-nDNXeGCggSC-OVrjTd6GT924EifXPnwZypmjY02dPMuWc00Za4k6iS3ciWV-ep5GjqfokTXh44BDdCB52ePP-2Ub2QoIB0apnyjVgqxPzhzPOf8V/s400/IMG_2846_edited-1.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526896876912873106" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a>Bo's threatening to karate chop me if I did not stop taking pictures and take him to the park. </div>
Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462861232756392707.post-42383272676115447802010-10-06T18:56:00.000-07:002010-10-06T19:43:31.665-07:00Nine Years<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNSVNkhLdYc5i5n_LMsZ1RDPGUE-pmy4xXISEPNFXij1h0mp7CvVQmHzhmeYWx39tD8klc70fjX-U4FXsF3vSA8Qr4GL05eHWp4qzSG0J8BP1cRVcf35itXhhDMbB4cuGUm32rv1Op_0BX/s1600/IMG_1852_edited-1.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 286px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525117383942289346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNSVNkhLdYc5i5n_LMsZ1RDPGUE-pmy4xXISEPNFXij1h0mp7CvVQmHzhmeYWx39tD8klc70fjX-U4FXsF3vSA8Qr4GL05eHWp4qzSG0J8BP1cRVcf35itXhhDMbB4cuGUm32rv1Op_0BX/s400/IMG_1852_edited-1.JPG" /></a> Nine years ago today Scott and I were married. I searched the computer for a picture of us together...it's a rarity. This is from the 4th of July. Don't laugh at my hair...I love 40's hair. This is what happens when I try to create a victory roll and don't succeed.<br /><br />What can I say about Scott and I? In another life we would be world travelers. We both love a road trip. Someday, I'll write up the whole story of when we were newly married and how we lost Popoki (our cat) at a rest stop while moving to Mississippi. Long story short...when I'd given up and was ready to leave without Popoki, Scott knew better and kept looking...and looking and looking. Why? Because he knew Poki was the only piece of home I was bringing with me and he knew I needed him.<br /><br />So, in another life or just later in this one we will travel more. Just, not with a stupid cat!<br /><br />Happy Anniversary Scott! Do you think we can make it another nine?Tifferbobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08934116277194061941noreply@blogger.com1