tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40456665147571809632024-02-19T00:06:53.735-05:00Beefche's BlogodariaIn the field of life, my own, personal cow patty to mark my place in the world.Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.comBlogger92125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-85897293130420532502009-04-13T08:00:00.000-04:002009-04-13T08:00:01.551-04:00Lead me, guide me, feel me up....A couple of years ago, I was asked to substitute in the Sunbeam class at church for a couple of weeks. I love kids and looked forward to spending time with them. I prepared my lesson and made sure I used lots of stories and pictures to entertain approximately five 3 year olds. <br /><br />When I got to class I was told that I had an additional 3 year old. The family had just moved in and little Andrew was in my class. This was my first time teaching Sunbeams--I've never served in Primary (although I've campaigned for it many times!). <br /><br />When it came time to tell a story, we all sat down and the little ones made sure to put their chairs as close to me as possible. I had 12 little knees all touching me legs. As I began my story and held up pictures, I felt someone's little feet on my shins--just rubbing me. I didn't think much about it because all the kiddos were touching me.<br /><br />As the story progressed, the little feet rubbed higher and higher until I noticed they were now on my thighs under my dress! When I looked to see whose feet were that high on my legs, I saw that Andrew, sitting directly in front of me, didn't have his feet on my thighs, but rather was using his hands to rub my legs! I quickly removed his hands, yet he kept trying to get them on my legs again. Story time was over! We switched to doing some physical activities to keep them entertained and keep Andrew from attacking me again.<br /><br />The next week, I wore a longer, straight skirt. I thought that Andrew wouldn't want to try to wedge his hands underneath this skirt--I was wrong. I spent almost the whole class evading him and trying to divert his attention.<br /><br />I had never been felt up by a 3 year old and have joked about it since. I didn't have the courage to say anything to his parents as they were new and I didn't really know them. After a couple of years, I finally confessed to Andrew's mom. I told her that I've joked in the past that I was molested by a 3 year old--and it was her son! She laughed and said that he has always had a fascination with women's stockings--he likes the feel of them. She was perplexed, however, when I revealed that I wasn't wearing any hosiery!Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-51426972521723536822009-04-10T08:00:00.000-04:002009-04-10T08:00:03.072-04:00Good Friday.......isn't so good for me. I have laryngitis. And stuffed sinuses. I wanted to do a great post about the Passover dinner I attended a couple of nights ago, but I don't have the energy for that at the moment. <br /><br />So, here is a thought for you this Holy Day:<br /><br />"As we approach this holy week—Passover Thursday with its Paschal Lamb, atoning Friday with its cross, Resurrection Sunday with its empty tomb—may we declare ourselves to be more fully disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ, not in word only and not only in the flush of comfortable times but in deed and in courage and in faith, including when the path is lonely and when our cross is difficult to bear."---Jeffrey R Holland, 2009 April Conference.Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-379208940436468722009-04-09T08:00:00.002-04:002009-04-09T08:00:00.841-04:00What does this say about me, part 2?Have you seen the Disney movie, "Beauty and the Beast?" Beast as a man is pretty hot. And whew! he looks like he can really kiss. Yum....Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-5076589950674192222009-04-08T08:00:00.000-04:002009-04-08T08:00:01.441-04:00What does this say about me?I haven't watched Disney's "Cinderella" in a very long time. But I can still quote quite a few lines, sing the songs, and even anticipate funny moments. And I found a line that applies to me, "And I'm so eligible!"Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-15270230172007266872009-04-07T08:00:00.000-04:002009-04-07T08:00:01.570-04:00Practical joke at workAfter reading my blog, you realize I love playing practical jokes. A couple of months ago, I was in our home office for my company to train new employees.<br /><br />I had 4 students. Of the 4, only 1 was truly new to the company. She recently graduated from college and is a sweet, cute girl. During our training, we happened to have a company wide employee meeting. A couple of days before, the other trainer and I were chatting with a couple of the trainees. Including new girl. Chuck begins to explain to New Girl that during employee meetings that new employees are required to stand and introduce themselves. Of course, New Girl looked to me to confirm or deny. I confirmed it adding that you had to state your name, where you're from and a short story about yourself.<br /><br />Needless to say, New Girl was scared! She asked about the story portion and I just said that it was just a little something--embarrassing moment, favorite memory, just something to remember you.<br /><br />The next day while on break, I overheard her speaking to one of the other trainees--an employee who was transferring from another department. New Girl said that she asked another employee about it and that the other employee said that Chuck and I were pulling her leg. New Girl then exclaimed, "I know Chuck would do that, but no way would Beefche! She would NEVER do something like that!"<br /><br />I could no longer remain a passive listener. I laughed so hard and New Girl had a look of pure astonishment. She almost didn't believe me when I said I was completely joking with her. She said she was convinced I wouldn't do something that mean.<br /><br />Ahh, she now knows me better.Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-80427649724243089282009-04-06T08:00:00.001-04:002009-04-06T08:00:01.331-04:00General ConferenceI decided that I wanted to go to General Conference this year. I chose April because I always enjoy April conference more. I think it's because we get the stats of the church in April.<br /><br />So I left sunny, spring-like Indiana and arrived in Utah....and snow. I forget how snowy Utah can be in April. It wasn't real cold, I didn't wear a coat. I planned on going to the Saturday morning session. So, what happens? It turns very cold and snowy on Saturday morning. I decided to wear my coat for that experience.<br /><br />I was able to meet a very nice couple while standing in line at Conference. They work for the church and have several Apostles and General Authorities in their ward. In fact, they told me they just got a new Gospel Doctrine teacher--Vaughn J. Featherstone--at least I think it was he. It was an emeritus GA in any case. I asked what the lessons and discussions were like. He said the last teacher was fluent in Hebrew and they had a lesson regarding the Hebrew translation of the scriptures.<br /><br />Saturday's talk that made an impression on me was President Eyring's talk on debt and addictions. It was one to make me ponder the connect of these two devestating events. I want to think of my life and what I must do to avoid either.<br /><br />I am constantly amazed at how the Spirit speaks to me during Conference. Sunday's talk that I especially loved was Elder Holland's talk (any surprise, there?). His testimony of Christ and His path of loneliness rendered me speechless. I felt the Spirit confirm to me the truth of his words.<br /><br />This Conference has convinced me that I must go to the Temple more regularly. It is not something to do when I have time--because I will never have time. It is not something to do because my ward is attending. I must attend for my own salvation.<br /><br />Join me, friends. If you have a recommend, make time to go to the temple. Work it out with family members to watch your kiddos. Or better yet, get with another couple and agree to watch each other's children to allow each couple to attend together. If you don't have a recommend, then live worthily to receive one. Make an appointment with your bishop now to begin that process.Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-24183514694541458042009-04-03T08:00:00.001-04:002009-04-03T08:00:01.644-04:00Meeting strangersI'm not opposed to being set up with single men that my friends recommend. Once, my friend gave me a picture of a guy with his name and phone number on the back. I asked her who he was and she admitted that she didn't know. After my puzzled look, she explained that her dad always gets coffee at White Castle in the mornings. He saw this guy there and immediately thought of me. He just felt that this guy and I should meet. So he asked him if he were single and would he be willing to meet me. The guy gave him a picture (don't YOU carry a wallet size photo of yourself???) and wrote his information on the back.<br /><br /><br />I really appreciated the thought. I did and do. But, meeting complete strangers like that is...well...a little weird to me. Of course, I've met strangers before...people I've "met" online. But to me there is a difference. First, I had communicated with these people either through a forum or through email for some time. Second, I wasn't planning on dating them. Entering into a relationship with someone requires a little more scrutiny, in my opinion.<br /><br /><br />So, if you want to set me up with a single guy...bring it on. But please make sure you know him better than the guy in line at your local fast food place!Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-52711249791078721292009-04-02T08:00:00.001-04:002009-04-02T08:00:01.627-04:00I'm HOW old?When I turned 30, I was a little sad. I reflected on what I thought 30 "looked" like for me and I wasn't anywhere I thought I would be. But, then I realized it was just a number and moved on.<br /><br />Then 35 came. And I was even sadder. I realized that 35 sounded so old and wise. And I didn't feel either. And it meant that I now had to mark the second box on surveys. You know, the box about your age: __ 18-30 or __ 31-39<br /><br />Now, it's time for the big 4-0. And I'm downright depressed. I'm forty years old! FORTY! I remember being in my teens and thinking 40 yrs old as OLD and middle aged and infirm and uncool and .....<br /><br />I don't feel 40....whatever 40 is supposed to feel like. My mind is still in my late 20's with an occasional flit into the 30's. I don't think I look 40. I see women who are 40 and think, "Wow! I look so much younger than that!"<br /><br />I just don't know what it means to be 40. It sounds so old and wise. Forty. Say it with me...forty. Don't you just envision someone who is well dressed, articulates her thoughts well, and dispenses wisdom at an alarming rate? Yeah, neither do I. I look in the mirror and I see a woman who tries to play dress up with makeup and jewelry, yet just like a 5 year old with her mother's things, looks awkward. But with a 5 year old, that awkwardness is cute....with a 40 year old, it's...well...awkward.<br /><br />Well, whatever it means, I'm it now. I'm 40...maybe if I say it enough, I'll begin to actually believe it.Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-64735582526751919922009-04-01T08:00:00.001-04:002009-04-01T08:00:03.359-04:00Doing a lot of thinking...It's been a while since I last posted. During that time, I've made some changes. Some are still in progress, but I'm ok with that.<br /><br />One of the things that I decided to change was my efforts regarding my spiritual life. I've had some issues the past few years that have affected my spirit. And I didn't like those changes. I made half-hearted attempts in the past, but finally decided that I had to do something. So, I had a good talk with my Heavenly Father and we (ok, I) came to an understanding that I'm not perfect. Yep, it's true, despite what you're thinking. I make mistakes and I can't beat myself up over them as much as I do. <br /><br />Earlier, I said that I wanted to read the Book of Mormon in 60 days. Thanks to a great friend who kept me on target (thanks, Polly!!), I was able to accomplish that. It felt good to accomplish a simple goal. In fact, I felt so good about it, that I immediately set another goal to read it again in 90 days. I also made the goal to read the November 2008 Ensign prior to going to General Conference. I completed my reading of the Ensign and I'm doing great on my BoM reading.<br /><br />Professional counseling has helped a lot with some of my issues. In fact, I'm not sure that I'll be going back any time soon. I spoke with my counselor and he agreed that he didn't see a need for it right now. I still have some issues (who doesn't??), but feel better about them. <br /><br />There were several talks in the conference issue that struck me, but there was a statement that stood out for me. It's from Elder Christofferson's talk on Zion: "<em>To come to Zion, it is not enough for you or me to be somewhat less wicked than others. We are to become not only good but holy men and women. Recalling Elder Neal A. Maxwell’s phrase, let us once and for all establish our residence in Zion and give up the summer cottage in Babylon (see Neal A. Maxwell, A Wonderful Flood of Light [1990], 47).</em>" <br /><br />I've decided to destroy that summer cottage. As with any demolition, it's taking some time. A wall knocked down here, a window smashed there, but it's coming along. Sometimes, I look around and think about how much I loved the cottage, but then the filth of it reminds me of why it needs to be eradicated. <br /><br />With General Conference coming soon, I am looking forward to hearing the Lord speak to me. He always does--some of those prophets prepare their talks specifically for me. I'm special that way--the Lord knows how much help I need so He sends His prophets to talk to me. I'm sure General Conference is for you too, but just know that some of those talks are for me.Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-35891008039474109432009-01-09T08:00:00.001-05:002009-01-09T08:00:04.098-05:00Happiness<div>What does it mean to be happy? Joseph Smith said, "Happiness is the object and design of our existence...." The scriptures talk about joy and happiness. I have a testimony of the prophets and scriptures, so I know that happiness is something that we can have in this life.<br /></div><div> </div><br /><div>I think because of my depression and current events in my life, that I am unable to even feel hope for happiness. I find it difficult to grasp that my once contented life now has no hope. Please don't misunderstand...I'm not in the depths of despair or need a suicide watch. But when one is depressed for an extended amount of time, one begins to lose hope of ever climbing from that pit. One begins to think, "Is this my life? Is this what I will have to look forward to for eternity? Will there be happiness once 'eternity' begins?"<br /></div><div> </div><br /><div>What about now? When life becomes so difficult and even moments of pleasure are interrupted by depressing thoughts, how do we continue to have hope for something better?<br /></div><div> </div><br /><div>For me, it is my testimony. A friend once told me that when she was depressed, the only thing that kept her sane was that she knew she had a testimony. She didn't feel it, but she knew her testimony was real and continuing to attend church was important for her to exemplify for her family. I don't have a family that reminds me of being an example, but I do have a testimony. My testimony has sustained me through other difficult times.<br /></div><div> </div><br /><div>I question the meaning of happiness because I've always heard it was more of a state of being rather than a destination. But, I don't understand this. I'm not happy dealing with the difficulties in my life. Even before these difficulties started, I never considered myself happy. I was content. Is that happiness? Can we be perfectly happy in this mortal, fallen world?<br /></div><div> </div><br /><div>When I think of that quote by Brother Joseph, I wonder if my definition of happy is skewed. The quote goes on to say something about as long as you pursue the path that leads to happiness can you achieve it. Meaning, we need to follow God's way for us. And truly, if we are rebelling against God then we will not be happy. We may have pleasure in our activities, but once the pleasure fades, we then feel the ramifications of sin.<br /></div><div> </div><br />But there are a lot of good people that have sad, depressing lives. And some of them are happy people. At least they appear to be. And I know that I appear to be happy. I would venture to say that no one who sees me daily has any idea that I am not happy and am suffering from depression. But it takes a lot of energy to keep up that facade (another topic). My point is that happiness is obviously something personal. And since there is a season for everything, perhaps it's my season to not be happy. That whole opposition thing, you know.Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-89544920303994869272009-01-08T08:00:00.001-05:002009-01-08T08:00:02.337-05:00Feel like makin' bread!The title is not what you think.<br /><br />When I was at BYU, there were about 5-6 of us that would gather on Sunday evenings and sing. One guy brought his guitar and he would play chords as we sang various songs. We had some really good singers and had sopranos, altos, baritones, tenors, basses. <br /><br />One Sunday after a fireside by Elder Packer (he spoke on chastity), we gathered as normal. Chad decided to play the chords from a song he just learned. All of us knew the song and began to sing/harmonize:<br /><br />Baby, when I think about you<br />I think about love<br />Darlin, dont live without you<br />And your love<br />If I had those golden dreams<br />Of my yesterdays<br />I would wrap you in the heaven<br />till Im dyin on the way<br /><br />Feel like makin<br />Feel like makin love<br />Feel like makin love to you<br /><br />As we sang the chorus, we realized what we were singing. Suddenly, the whole group stopped as if a conductor had cut us off. We discussed how after hearing Elder Packer talk about chastity, that perhaps singing about making love wasn't appropriate. <br /><br />So, we decided to come up with our own lyrics. Each person took a turn to make up a verse and chorus. The one that "won" was "Feel like makin' bread." I don't remember the lyrics now, but I remember singing about the smell and melted butter. <br /><br />I love this group and love this song. However, whenever I hear it, my mind changes the chorus from "feel like makin' love" to "feel like makin' bread."Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-54163814139820774902009-01-06T08:00:00.000-05:002009-01-06T08:33:41.639-05:00Read your scriptures!I'm not really into New Year's resolutions. But I like the thought of goals. One of my goals is to read the Book of Mormon in 60 days. I am not expecting to receive deep insight or reveal new doctrines. But I do expect to become reacquainted with a beloved book. I do expect to feel the Spirit again in my life. I expect to have these 60 days help me to create a habit of turning to the scriptures more.<br /><br />I couldn't sleep this morning, so at 4 am, I was dinking around on the computer and came across this website. Perhaps you know of it. But if you don't, look around. It's free and has a lot of features.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.readthescriptures.com/">http://www.readthescriptures.com/</a><br /><br /><br />One of the things I like about it is you can set up a reading schedule and it will email you so that you can read it online, listen to it online, or just be reminded to read it (in your own scriptures if you prefer). There is also a way to mark the online scriptures with highlighter and notes. It keeps track of your notes. There's a journal and the ability to form a group to discuss the scriptures you are reading together.<br /><br />Anyway, I began my 60 days today. I'm hoping I don't become a dork and skip a day thinking that I'll make it up. I find that if I do that, I tend to fall even further behind and then get discouraged and quit altogether. <br /><br />If you join and decide you'd to form a group, let me know and I'll join the group. I'm all about others kicking me in the tush to help me with my goals. <br /><br />So, whatever you decide to do, just do it--read your scriptures!Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-28598424383045773912008-12-28T08:00:00.000-05:002008-12-28T16:03:11.836-05:00Happy Blah Blah to meToday is my birthday. And it's a milestone birthday which means that it's depressing. Ok, not depths of despair depressing, but depressing in that I have to face reality that I'm getting older. <br /><br />Aren't I supposed to be wiser or something when I'm older? I certainly don't feel it. In fact, I was playing the game, "Are you smarter than a fifth grader?" and realized that nope, I'm not. Especially in science and math. <br /><br />Then I thought about how being wise isn't necessarily about being book smart. Life experiences teach us a lot, right? So, why do I do dumb things like not bring sunglasses to a country ruled by sun?<br /><br />So, I've decided that wisdom is for other people. It's wasted on the youth anyway and since I don't want to admit that I'm getting old, then it would be wasted on me.Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-86595339503562816442008-12-11T08:00:00.000-05:002008-12-11T08:00:02.524-05:00I'm tired and blahI was thinking about how people always put on a "happy" face in public. We tend to not show any negative feelings (unless in extreme circumstances--like when the Colts lose). And I was thinking about how people's personal blogs lean towards the happy topics. After all, who wants to read a bunch of negative Nellie's thoughts?<br /><br />But, I'm breaking from that tradition. Partly because I just like being a rebel. And partly because the reality of life is that not every day is a Glorious Utopia type of day.<br /><br />I'm sad. And hurt. And confused. And tired. About a lot of things that I will not go into, but just know that I just don't want to deal with people or things right now. And that's just not an option. Why can't we just spend a week inside a secluded area and have absolutely no one to call us, nag us, worry about us, think about us? I just want some time alone to suck my thumb, snuggle into my blankie, and escape from reality. <br /><br />Instead, I go to work and put on my happy face. I talk to people when they call me and sound excited for life. I still shop and eat and pay my bills. But I don't want to. <br /><br />And although I'm excited to go to Mexico for Christmas, there is a part of me that wishes I could use that time to just hide in my house, watch reruns of Friends, eat Oreo cookies, and turn off the phone. But if I did that, then I would be 50 pounds heavier, living in the past, and saying to everyone, "How <strong>you</strong> doin'?"<br /><br />So, I'll continue with my happy face in public. But, I just don't have the energy for posting on a blog. I have some ideas for blog posts. Maybe I'll use the time in Mexico to work on those in preparation for the new year.Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-54737875185390554822008-12-05T08:00:00.000-05:002008-12-05T08:00:01.112-05:00Hawaii--the finaleI was sad to leave Hawaii. I'm not sure if I could live there--very expensive. Food, housing, gas, everything was more expensive that the 48 states. But, to vacation was fantastic. Here are some final pictures to warm us during the cold December.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-enDJp3pEgtJnd8aIT2X51rc5-BMzl5I3ziRRR81bkfArR_PX4pHA9obaEi_u0WtXuenFBbGe1VKoKdRH62gA8YhbvTv8a8WfOeJSzBhkJS3mLDQ21HtXW0hTuCXd-WX0S4VgiWKUsEq/s1600-h/img_0501.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-enDJp3pEgtJnd8aIT2X51rc5-BMzl5I3ziRRR81bkfArR_PX4pHA9obaEi_u0WtXuenFBbGe1VKoKdRH62gA8YhbvTv8a8WfOeJSzBhkJS3mLDQ21HtXW0hTuCXd-WX0S4VgiWKUsEq/s320/img_0501.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273823611891530818" border="0" /></a><br />Hawaii is known as the land of rainbows. It rained every day we were there. But the difference is that it was sunny also. After the rain ends, about 10-15 minutes, the rainbows can be seen. Here's a great one right above the place we stayed. You could usually see the full rainbow, although I found it difficult to capture on film.<br /><br />We visited the only palace in America. Hawaii was once a monarchy and a beautiful palace was built sometime in 1800. Unfortunately, no pictures were allowed.<br /><br />We also visited the Dole Plantation. Wow, I never knew that pineapples could taste so sweet and different. I thought pineapples came in pineapple flavor. But, there are different varieties with slightly different flavors.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_lKhyphenhyphen5xRb5tikqATbAHnpsI8bqEJ6P-cN6QwIXWHU3jd2-Z5w2Z9BoAy6xonjsrreuFcs2L3FXPavG3EAqa2-4v6whPVVkKCd_L-ydbfrM-uIfyNLo1zxf3bvmjUk21mdSYWcP3rPCErL/s1600-h/img_0603.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_lKhyphenhyphen5xRb5tikqATbAHnpsI8bqEJ6P-cN6QwIXWHU3jd2-Z5w2Z9BoAy6xonjsrreuFcs2L3FXPavG3EAqa2-4v6whPVVkKCd_L-ydbfrM-uIfyNLo1zxf3bvmjUk21mdSYWcP3rPCErL/s320/img_0603.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273822368884763250" border="0" /></a>Pineapples don't grow on trees (as I thought--I'm such a Hoosier hick). It grows from a fern like stiff plant.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs0XxkrnZjOMDzTUSgtUOOibWq_6woihVOKdexG4xHX_Tr0gIluLSMRLrpy4RAEfUoCfw0sqBYnH_QpjEm5LNiMj07vLc1BPX5T4a5RsDf14UQBat04XHN__ZxTIvbT86-Zku7jzdP1GQ1/s1600-h/img_0605.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs0XxkrnZjOMDzTUSgtUOOibWq_6woihVOKdexG4xHX_Tr0gIluLSMRLrpy4RAEfUoCfw0sqBYnH_QpjEm5LNiMj07vLc1BPX5T4a5RsDf14UQBat04XHN__ZxTIvbT86-Zku7jzdP1GQ1/s320/img_0605.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273823131895277826" border="0" /></a><br />Have you seen "Little Shop of Horrors?" Here's Audrey III...E. is feeding it, LOL! This is actually a pineapple.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz8OXy0fmGfozCINjEoqkvgXz1_xVNuzhXUqZ_BogFip7nWM3ShXcjFC-8LT65p4EGKz6KYvQE-hHf70sgF_HLVK5bscfYnjRAiyt0-TQNbAsOahDIK3V6I2bL0LF7cHLYw7MSAOBhTo7F/s1600-h/img_0589.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz8OXy0fmGfozCINjEoqkvgXz1_xVNuzhXUqZ_BogFip7nWM3ShXcjFC-8LT65p4EGKz6KYvQE-hHf70sgF_HLVK5bscfYnjRAiyt0-TQNbAsOahDIK3V6I2bL0LF7cHLYw7MSAOBhTo7F/s320/img_0589.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273821235437388162" border="0" /></a><br />Is this not the <span style="font-weight: bold;">coolest</span> tree you've ever seen? It reminded me of something from a Dr. Seuss book. It's called a Rainbow Tree, for obvious reasons.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLDr1nI8yZXH5jH00cUntpGUED5p4F8V_wS3Wi0BoQvWUPIzsjd5ED8iIfOWmIlAyoATsadUtPEaYdGyaw6U-sdlnA37_NnqspAPCg7tBPEOBoKfEVXvCN680x2wb5_5YpwfoZ1vtR960u/s1600-h/img_0597.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLDr1nI8yZXH5jH00cUntpGUED5p4F8V_wS3Wi0BoQvWUPIzsjd5ED8iIfOWmIlAyoATsadUtPEaYdGyaw6U-sdlnA37_NnqspAPCg7tBPEOBoKfEVXvCN680x2wb5_5YpwfoZ1vtR960u/s320/img_0597.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273797343055998466" border="0" /></a><br />Aww, don't we look sweet? Friends since the beginning days of college and we still like each other. This was taken at the Dole Plantation...they had a botanical garden there with lots of plants and things that are indigenous to the area. Shortly after this picture was taken, her 10 year old daughter fell into the pond behind us and hurt her knee pretty badly. There was lots of blood and tears. The employees were so nice and kind to us after that. We got a lot of free things including the tour, pineapple ice cream, and gifts. Girlie got so much free, fun stuff, I was looking for a pond to fall into.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXQGBGfIPluNm9L9hyphenhyphen5afyJTzMA4jd9-5kiBUVNBbMQfcW1a4Q3nThBBJ0DYy9I3iGPVHH6nYaLRyj0StcVrF2Mdhi533HIZNJQLMtNuQlO12-jghjLulqfZu-H6QK3tLQ5WaQrD4ObUxX/s1600-h/img_0670.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXQGBGfIPluNm9L9hyphenhyphen5afyJTzMA4jd9-5kiBUVNBbMQfcW1a4Q3nThBBJ0DYy9I3iGPVHH6nYaLRyj0StcVrF2Mdhi533HIZNJQLMtNuQlO12-jghjLulqfZu-H6QK3tLQ5WaQrD4ObUxX/s320/img_0670.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275766305381611714" border="0" /></a>On the last day of vacation, my friend got stung/bit/attacked by a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Portuguese_Man_o%27_War">Portuguese Man o'War</a>. I'm sure she won't appreciate me telling the story, but it's too funny not to share. She and her husband went snorkeling when she was stung. She didn't know what happened...she just knew something was on her arm and now her arm hurt very badly. The locals said that it was probably a jellyfish and that vinegar or urine would help take away the pain. So, her husband bravely stood up to rescue his fair maiden. She made him go into the bathroom with a cup to do his deed. As he was pouring his "rescue" on her arm, the kids kept saying, "Ooo! It's frothy!" and all she felt was really warm liquid. It was disgusting to her, so she kept chanting, "It's beer...it's beer..."<br /><br />By the way, her pain didn't go away. Once she got home, she did some research and found out that she had an allergic reaction and that urine and vinegar (which she used as well) made it worse.<br /><br />And so we come to the end of our tropical vacation. I really enjoyed Hawaii...I would go again. And I would recommend it to anyone.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvAQ1bVHo2HAJRf-a_JszQo2MoRtDFOgUgLSQkAAp9MYjmt_QA8xlfXEUcFydRJJf-DeLFJbARMnbvZSgtKn9hXSQeDE94b1Raut5Rl3y-G7SZWcN4J7gCwX713SMWLhUs_aeHr4WIUheK/s1600-h/img_0675.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvAQ1bVHo2HAJRf-a_JszQo2MoRtDFOgUgLSQkAAp9MYjmt_QA8xlfXEUcFydRJJf-DeLFJbARMnbvZSgtKn9hXSQeDE94b1Raut5Rl3y-G7SZWcN4J7gCwX713SMWLhUs_aeHr4WIUheK/s320/img_0675.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275769131736123762" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoW_cSl4PSGUyxDeEFAHXW1looFSxqSGqbGtZZc68Dq0UU8eF5x2hYlAS2XXj_ZXkpotfxstmt4YBw6oLY4ljeW5wdb8lMJMKkHtsGAgwdNRBkPuGDS8w0SOmKhCKfNF5AKvRH-_1GOOZs/s1600-h/img_0682.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoW_cSl4PSGUyxDeEFAHXW1looFSxqSGqbGtZZc68Dq0UU8eF5x2hYlAS2XXj_ZXkpotfxstmt4YBw6oLY4ljeW5wdb8lMJMKkHtsGAgwdNRBkPuGDS8w0SOmKhCKfNF5AKvRH-_1GOOZs/s320/img_0682.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275769464718245714" border="0" /></a>Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-60926637244268054882008-12-04T08:00:00.000-05:002008-12-04T08:00:00.677-05:00Hawaii Part 4While we were at the PCC, they had a nighttime show. It was so much fun to see traditional dancing from the various Pacific Island cultures. My favorite was the Maori men (they make faces as they dance to "scare" their enemies) and the Tahitian women (they are the traditional shake-your-hips hula dancers).<br /><br />Here's a video of our Maori warriors.<br /><br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy8_kR-MGAncXvFkQNFv9STofOPVKEETzbNHQiYd_fbJckrpyefTu6Ac7lLLQqQf3Gx23it2TrxcZkrzf2bag' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><br /><br />Here's a video of some fancy hip shaking. I could not take my eyes of these women's hips. Holy cow can those women do that for a long time!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzAw6_EfTQnblrPywGNQ1mFhZxZb-zAoNS7fVnl-xQAguv9MHfMBElIwSXxkbh1LvA1BSDwwZ38GkIC2zLnlA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-12676410353462803942008-12-03T08:00:00.000-05:002008-12-03T08:00:01.369-05:00Hawaii Part 3<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI32u9O_EJEDqgNDAWb1cuL5XBcZ91WxY2Jh_cUSLJ38LAaN90PzlyGU07bdHS7hPyv-bdxOutA7iKqYLPcKjwZyJJSIC5GyR0LAhJKUz0ymJey4CQ8qlbyjuTwI-p1ZD1di2V2TAmYrpJ/s1600-h/img_0526.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI32u9O_EJEDqgNDAWb1cuL5XBcZ91WxY2Jh_cUSLJ38LAaN90PzlyGU07bdHS7hPyv-bdxOutA7iKqYLPcKjwZyJJSIC5GyR0LAhJKUz0ymJey4CQ8qlbyjuTwI-p1ZD1di2V2TAmYrpJ/s320/img_0526.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273610850283518498" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The other 2 places I wanted to visit were the Temple and the Polynesian Cultural Center (PCC). Here is the Lai'e Temple (pronouned "la ee aa"). I have to say, this is one of the most beautiful temples I've seen. We didn't go inside as we had kids who were too young to go inside, so we just enjoyed the outside.<br /><br />The missionaries there at the visitors center were couples or sisters. The sisters who serve a Hawaii mission all take turns at the temple. They wear those long flowery dresses (as you picture Hawaiian women wearing) with flowers in their hair. Actually, many women wear flowers behind their ear everywhere you go.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTnLeVr_WLsEb47d476frhX7rbsct_49c115QSXc4Qo2HiHScnonrprSf8tUoopg4CjRluJPFOGXej0eV0gW10R4fLpZWNerlWuqOBFri4mzYjjdC86PWBrJ4KGuklliWNNTSllRKMP6Ki/s1600-h/img_0523.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTnLeVr_WLsEb47d476frhX7rbsct_49c115QSXc4Qo2HiHScnonrprSf8tUoopg4CjRluJPFOGXej0eV0gW10R4fLpZWNerlWuqOBFri4mzYjjdC86PWBrJ4KGuklliWNNTSllRKMP6Ki/s320/img_0523.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273611784144640882" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We visited the Temple on the 12th birthday of my friend's son. This pic is of my friend's girls (and her mom's hand--LOL) in the area right behind the temple. There was an area that was created by the trees and they had some benches there. It was secluded and a perfect place for his father and grandfather to ordain him to the office of deacon, which they did. What a wonderful experience. So incredible to be ordained in such a sacred and beautiful setting. I was happy to be a part of that moment.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimNKfEAGRGSzqSr7RQgYxzgt6wYFMlp2LPZE_rMVk0s_t_ZoYIrsG_0_AK1DYJUzUR67q0PgnhY9nixXFPffbSpnDg9NIAW8GWWJhCbFl56C7U3LhAzm5Nk3jtciEK99ce3NcuJXOLlyXu/s1600-h/img_0518.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimNKfEAGRGSzqSr7RQgYxzgt6wYFMlp2LPZE_rMVk0s_t_ZoYIrsG_0_AK1DYJUzUR67q0PgnhY9nixXFPffbSpnDg9NIAW8GWWJhCbFl56C7U3LhAzm5Nk3jtciEK99ce3NcuJXOLlyXu/s320/img_0518.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273609591812785506" border="0" /></a>Here's another shot of the trees in the secluded area behind the temple. The interesting about these trees are, you are looking at their roots. Their roots grow DOWN to the ground and once they bury themselves into the ground, another tree grows. The roots/branches then entwine themselves and forms a twisty looking tree.<br /><br />After the temple, we visited the PCC. Actually, the PCC, BYU-Hawaii, and the temple are all right next to each other. The church owns quite a bit of land there in Lai'e and uses it to house their educational and ecclesiastical institutions.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG3qKrf1YzOS39F5SRVC-5fqMK5fJkttU0kJ2mQ1qzcAh8F3hYx2CfkZPCPJ7B-TCRjpXFX4Zko5QASRN48o7WltZNdsKAcQaQijQljzVRgA6-JUKTSwEQVKvbJx5hhFjJ7rWW45KcQuIf/s1600-h/img_0536.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG3qKrf1YzOS39F5SRVC-5fqMK5fJkttU0kJ2mQ1qzcAh8F3hYx2CfkZPCPJ7B-TCRjpXFX4Zko5QASRN48o7WltZNdsKAcQaQijQljzVRgA6-JUKTSwEQVKvbJx5hhFjJ7rWW45KcQuIf/s320/img_0536.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273612616155185458" border="0" /></a>Here we are learning a hula dance. The hula is actually sign language put to music. Each action has a meaning. Our hula dance is telling the story of a woman in love and welcoming her lover back from across the ocean. Notice the girly in pink of front? That's one of ours and her face is hilarious--"am I doing this right?" I just look goofy--I was imagining what all of us looked like--including the men shaking their hips.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIKJMdsbzNy9sNFy3U6ABRXxqTYtPThVukr6ROpTkcQJ5pDQk9pD19SMTyqXpIpjeEaiKDxSvyiweh2tTRqNrRy1Dieb_P5kA5tpsenIWpZfquFYIJpqfpV1t5D7gG99pJJJBczT7Kopr7/s1600-h/img_0547.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIKJMdsbzNy9sNFy3U6ABRXxqTYtPThVukr6ROpTkcQJ5pDQk9pD19SMTyqXpIpjeEaiKDxSvyiweh2tTRqNrRy1Dieb_P5kA5tpsenIWpZfquFYIJpqfpV1t5D7gG99pJJJBczT7Kopr7/s320/img_0547.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273613677549631346" border="0" /></a>The PCC is set up to a living museum which demonstrates the culture of the people from the Pacific Islands. Cultures including Hawaiians, Maori (New Zealand), Tongon, Samoa, etc. are demonstrated by BYU students and others. This man was hilarious. He is Samoan and demonstrated how to open and drink the juice from a coconut. He chose our newest deacon as a "volunteer" to partake of the juice. E. was less than excited to try this and his face was hilarious.<br /><br />A little bit of trivia--when a coconut is opened, the juice inside is just that--juice. It is not milk. Coconut milk is obtained by scraping out the meat of the nut and then squeezing that. I had never had fresh coconut and found that it actually doesn't even taste like coconut! It reminded me of a meaty type of nut such as Macadamia or hazelnut. The flavor is very mild.<br /><br />And I tried poi. Poi is made from the tarrot root which is quite a bit like a sweet potato, except it's purple. Poi is made by pounding the tarrot and then cooking it (boiling, baking, etc.). Tarrot raw is not able to be eaten--it has to be cooked. They had samples and it had the consistency of a thick applesauce. The flavor is very bland...until the aftertaste hits. Then it is very, very sweet. I found it pleasant to eat, although I don't know what I would eat with it. The Hawaiians eat it with dinners as almost a condiment for their meat, veggies, or rice.<br /><br />We ate at the PCC for a traditional luau. There were tons of food and it was very, very good. I think my favorite was the "Lomi Lomi Salmon." It's raw salmon with soy sauce, ginger, and other ingredients. It's very good and doesn't taste like raw salmon (I love sushi). The roasted pork was yummy as well. They had one dessert that was...well...just gross. It was some kind of coconut pudding--the texture was like a Jello Jiggler.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2EN2nnkk-3TAKRPcec6zEqGZzI7yJzklWyEEIvwKPR02Nf20u7rNjeixnca59b5XS6Bq4rKjy0p6HRikhCHKAjIFtKOiVKuORXYEVgVVmSHTqN_lElPFJ5wLM_UVaf5aq1cmJYTu4gy_v/s1600-h/img_0571.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2EN2nnkk-3TAKRPcec6zEqGZzI7yJzklWyEEIvwKPR02Nf20u7rNjeixnca59b5XS6Bq4rKjy0p6HRikhCHKAjIFtKOiVKuORXYEVgVVmSHTqN_lElPFJ5wLM_UVaf5aq1cmJYTu4gy_v/s320/img_0571.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273784805301336866" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfUryXb2VGM-rTxjfAPPz1WX_uEZMDR1-8V61WyradMM5O3b9TkysVHa08OBlwiqitrwK8CBwt2ZyHWuaTqF6q-vjNR8HOpSlqCy9TjLD0wpFz9vOeTxz_31rC9VeSDh55KHRVmtDYGJwm/s1600-h/img_0557-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfUryXb2VGM-rTxjfAPPz1WX_uEZMDR1-8V61WyradMM5O3b9TkysVHa08OBlwiqitrwK8CBwt2ZyHWuaTqF6q-vjNR8HOpSlqCy9TjLD0wpFz9vOeTxz_31rC9VeSDh55KHRVmtDYGJwm/s320/img_0557-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273781622632641234" border="0" /></a>They had entertainment for us as we ate and invited all the kiddos up on stage to participate in a hula. We made our youngest members to go--they didn't look too excited to be in front of hundreds of people.<br /><br />Next stop, traditional Pacific Island dancing.Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-34473984835877624272008-12-02T08:00:00.001-05:002008-12-02T08:00:03.988-05:00Hawaii Part 2There were only 3 places that I absolutely insisted on seeing. Thankfully, the same 3 places were on everyone's mind. One of those places was Pearl Harbor.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXzVXV7zoSQx-kpxLikqSGJZprlF8oWGvJadLofKinLOv9vF74glAkdZwuvUSdFAL77ZJMlNH1mGXxn9n9DlSB7578NP08VQSDT2RBhySlyUN4tTlL4hORrnArodWDQUkEeVckuicZbsaJ/s1600-h/img_0472.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXzVXV7zoSQx-kpxLikqSGJZprlF8oWGvJadLofKinLOv9vF74glAkdZwuvUSdFAL77ZJMlNH1mGXxn9n9DlSB7578NP08VQSDT2RBhySlyUN4tTlL4hORrnArodWDQUkEeVckuicZbsaJ/s320/img_0472.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273597623101393106" border="0" /></a><br />This is the memorial that is built over the Arizona. For those who don't know any history, the Arizona was a ship that was sunk by the Japanese and we lost over 1100 lives with that ship alone. Many of the men who died on the Arizona remain in the ship below the surface.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9kOPQnET712luWnJb_qrESsKsePftBIxbMLOFQXgWuoZiVzbEeLMAUxcuX7sFTM9vM2LzpAB0OpnfM241hhQGeCCeeZMvHd8CDPOUTcRQwlDV3U3g-ChB3A5_3uZm83dPKHj_2pFsPnsS/s1600-h/img_0461.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9kOPQnET712luWnJb_qrESsKsePftBIxbMLOFQXgWuoZiVzbEeLMAUxcuX7sFTM9vM2LzpAB0OpnfM241hhQGeCCeeZMvHd8CDPOUTcRQwlDV3U3g-ChB3A5_3uZm83dPKHj_2pFsPnsS/s320/img_0461.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273600659732638706" border="0" /></a><br /><br />At one end of the memorial is a wall which lists the names of the lost men. Many of those who survived Pearl Harbor have asked that upon their death that their remains be buried alongside their comrades. There are several urns placed along the wall of some of these men.<br /><br />As soon as you step onto the national landmark, you feel a sense of loss and grief for these men who gave their lives. Everyone speaks in whispers and are very respectful.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEich_gAf4Sf5oOXoPcgTcbcql3MmzNqwFpcYXCI186mFx6LzdjyPoRfZv4ga8qzdxPZOgBnIQW5PL5gCY22gZyRNjaHUTCUSu6QdQ4mmvcAqMU-jDhPsoqZ6ODtUUgz4SRqc-scjEaVAgxv/s1600-h/img_0453.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEich_gAf4Sf5oOXoPcgTcbcql3MmzNqwFpcYXCI186mFx6LzdjyPoRfZv4ga8qzdxPZOgBnIQW5PL5gCY22gZyRNjaHUTCUSu6QdQ4mmvcAqMU-jDhPsoqZ6ODtUUgz4SRqc-scjEaVAgxv/s320/img_0453.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273769856037736146" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The Arizona continues to leak oil...some 60 years after the attack. I'm not sure how much or how long it will continue to leak. But, it's disturbing to think that after 60+ years that this ship continues to "live" as it leaks its lifeblood into the ocean. I couldn't get my video uploaded that shows the oil actually ascending to the surface.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6OGmOz0vMIA6-QC1Lyt9MajsM5zVaGGVsvVUCZ9dvb8KujrESTjHEXo04aYPd9-OzIepXS4OV7eq2k2J67th4yMBvsP-58JnP-5CMUeKVKvQq_Pbr24tf-auRni-vLX_mgY7v9Zyh8957/s1600-h/img_0473.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6OGmOz0vMIA6-QC1Lyt9MajsM5zVaGGVsvVUCZ9dvb8KujrESTjHEXo04aYPd9-OzIepXS4OV7eq2k2J67th4yMBvsP-58JnP-5CMUeKVKvQq_Pbr24tf-auRni-vLX_mgY7v9Zyh8957/s320/img_0473.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273603159612727074" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This is the Missouri ("Mighty Mo"), the site of the Japanese surrender to General MacArthur in 1945. It's pretty impressive when you're on board. Those guns are HUGE. And did you know that this same ship was used in the Gulf War? They outfitted her with Tomahawk missiles and some other impressive combat weapon (can you tell that I don't know much about weaponry?). The thing that impressed me with this was that this ship was so powerful during the Gulf War, that she could fire and pound our enemies from so far away that they couldn't discern where the bombardment was originating.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio9eLLcjvc1wHTV9rznq5YMUmJxDX7L0P7QiR64aubTrpfC54_DHXoNlACJpmWFZ0Egc_ahuNl_7xuFgnBUGEcYzdLa_FlvZ9ndXnF3DXx0PsViWtLkOwtxEuoSVA5mNHIwioOO7JGJWrZ/s1600-h/img_0698.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio9eLLcjvc1wHTV9rznq5YMUmJxDX7L0P7QiR64aubTrpfC54_DHXoNlACJpmWFZ0Egc_ahuNl_7xuFgnBUGEcYzdLa_FlvZ9ndXnF3DXx0PsViWtLkOwtxEuoSVA5mNHIwioOO7JGJWrZ/s320/img_0698.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273602090295249106" border="0" /></a><br />They have some bomb thing and flags from all 50 states next to the ship. Here I am standing next to the Indiana state flag (the blue one with the torch directly to my right).<br /><br />A couple of thoughts before we leave Pearl Harbor. Many tours were given while we were there. We did a self-tour and at one point, we were overrun by a Japanese tour group. Never before did I wish I could speak Japanese so badly. I wondered how the history was recited for these tourists. After all, history is written by the victors. As we toured, everywhere you looked or heard, the American soldiers were being lauded and praised. And the Japanese were depicted as enemies who plotted and executed a heinous act.<br /><br />Finally, I was struck by the patriotism shown by all Americans who toured here. Many of the tourists were obviously military (haircuts and uniforms give them away). I have always been proud to be an American. And as I visited this site, I was impressed again that although beaten, Americans do not give up. We rally to the cause and fight the good fight.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I'm proud to be an American!</span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-1l5vImZpibBsnF3q5DLQ_ywxjjtgM4bt4BMwQ_Bu9rn-Ey1VzJCQAT9zIEpAA7QdRaYzln-1OAZ96-tH_9undbFFOAfzW1LzMdt0_wY-W6Lm11FCoesMm7kLp49-LFny0fJLikcBfk7m/s1600-h/img_0475.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-1l5vImZpibBsnF3q5DLQ_ywxjjtgM4bt4BMwQ_Bu9rn-Ey1VzJCQAT9zIEpAA7QdRaYzln-1OAZ96-tH_9undbFFOAfzW1LzMdt0_wY-W6Lm11FCoesMm7kLp49-LFny0fJLikcBfk7m/s320/img_0475.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273605533260569362" border="0" /></a>Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-14429007625855744012008-12-01T08:00:00.000-05:002008-12-01T08:00:01.434-05:00Hawaii Part 1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO_Z_l-7VuYIFNuWnFVILbKnMwJLOJnioxv3398E_yKLPBXnkRa4BQwP4xNuGhtB2KCKtMK72zSCcQwpBGRVlMfgZZFdtMIjSgbUZfbWOlFVpG59pwm3J6gyfYWbl-54CeT5Y9AVD-lCmd/s1600-h/img_0663.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO_Z_l-7VuYIFNuWnFVILbKnMwJLOJnioxv3398E_yKLPBXnkRa4BQwP4xNuGhtB2KCKtMK72zSCcQwpBGRVlMfgZZFdtMIjSgbUZfbWOlFVpG59pwm3J6gyfYWbl-54CeT5Y9AVD-lCmd/s320/img_0663.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273581966396433762" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Aloha!</span><br /></span></div><br />Finally! I'm posting some pics of Hawaii. First, let me say that Hawaii is fabulous! The beaches are clean and lovely, the water clear and warm, the people friendly, and the weather, although humid, still fantastic.<br /><br />One of the cool things about Hawaii is that it's obviously a part of the United States, but there is a foreign culture feel to it. Hawaiian and Japanese are spoken almost as much as English.<br /><br />I flew into Honolulu on the island of Oahu on September 27 and we left on October 5. I went with my best friend from college and her family--husband, 5 children, and her parents. We stayed at a military recreational place (her husband is in the military) and it was right on the beach. That opening picture is from our place where we stayed. Isn't that just awesome?<br /><br />We would get up in the morning and if nothing was planned for the day, we went to the beach (a 30 second walk) and played. The kids enjoyed boogie boarding. We went snorkeling. I enjoyed just laying on the beach and listening to the waves. Ahhh. Love, love that sound.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5SwO0jkmWipnLmkmEd4HtgtoGEndTRRIMsGuLvzoFm0zO-7EEg9TcESP6fDuRx-YA3Uc37N-657cZLJakc9PfgXRSU7E-SIQ2crLc5yHhreSrtJgzW_APM9y5h__ONe6x7Erg6Oo1x2tn/s1600-h/img_0627.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5SwO0jkmWipnLmkmEd4HtgtoGEndTRRIMsGuLvzoFm0zO-7EEg9TcESP6fDuRx-YA3Uc37N-657cZLJakc9PfgXRSU7E-SIQ2crLc5yHhreSrtJgzW_APM9y5h__ONe6x7Erg6Oo1x2tn/s320/img_0627.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273587744231082898" border="0" /></a><br />I had just climbed Diamond Head, a volcano (literally) and this is a picture of Waikiki from the top. Notice my red face? That's not the sun...it's from exertion. Whew! That was a climb! The trail included climbing over rocks, long staircases, and squeezing through a tunnel like contraption.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqW6N_rXExJlGSawjSjJQU7c1rpap5RkIkggSUcl_55uxbhoBjpyT81beeTBRRJqCCgEy7QoX6vidgRbT2ha4FtiUTDOzGRHPgRSTnFoMVhpV8RSw0ZHsggVVLGOtJ7Yk7jx6pF-R7khp7/s1600-h/img_0629.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqW6N_rXExJlGSawjSjJQU7c1rpap5RkIkggSUcl_55uxbhoBjpyT81beeTBRRJqCCgEy7QoX6vidgRbT2ha4FtiUTDOzGRHPgRSTnFoMVhpV8RSw0ZHsggVVLGOtJ7Yk7jx6pF-R7khp7/s320/img_0629.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273589000094383170" border="0" /></a><br />This is another picture from the top of the volcano. That's the crater and you can see the parking lot and part of the trail.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixueQzUutg5H4b7nDIJmSjxjjBb5C3jIdG1MqjWPvQJI3Epbah0ZZHO62ZTGx14KhGCsSjS54K9pUQVKeBOOTUeFGyZsxV7YoakJG_d9mgp1LWFzSSHWJDE6OnoxLIW0WdHcUvHxJsaPNj/s1600-h/img_0635.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixueQzUutg5H4b7nDIJmSjxjjBb5C3jIdG1MqjWPvQJI3Epbah0ZZHO62ZTGx14KhGCsSjS54K9pUQVKeBOOTUeFGyZsxV7YoakJG_d9mgp1LWFzSSHWJDE6OnoxLIW0WdHcUvHxJsaPNj/s320/img_0635.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273593236263900098" border="0" /></a><br />Isn't that just beautiful? I absolutely love lighthouses (anyone who's been to my house notices that first off) and was so delighted to see Diamond Head Lighthouse.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzm0peAJZsJcrCRoDKdcZ-8h49hyphenhyphenqRWiMER4op99NcXrUlKtEnsfA-1aSRjbdXyWQPRwlUctj-eV1MD8lKKp_C0jz0n6S_wwBqLpY-8cgufm1vy7r4Mdf2_T9io2Li760snpPQEzl2Xn0a/s1600-h/img_0641.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzm0peAJZsJcrCRoDKdcZ-8h49hyphenhyphenqRWiMER4op99NcXrUlKtEnsfA-1aSRjbdXyWQPRwlUctj-eV1MD8lKKp_C0jz0n6S_wwBqLpY-8cgufm1vy7r4Mdf2_T9io2Li760snpPQEzl2Xn0a/s320/img_0641.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273595791244630978" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I can't remember the name of this place. This was another hike that we went on. Where the Diamond Head hike was very sunny and warm, this hike was like hiking in the rainforest. It was not sunny, but extremely humid. For me, this hike was more strenuous. We basically climbed over rocks for about a mile straight up. We knew that we would see a waterfall, but I was expecting something a little more dramatic.<br /><br />I didn't wear shoes that were conducive to hiking. Little white shoes from Walmart that cost $5.00 get ruined quickly in such a wet, muddy environment. And it made it slickery (that's my word for it). By the time I got to the top, I looked as if I had just stepped out of the shower.<br /><br />Next trip, Pearl Harbor.Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-79480743069832956542008-11-28T08:00:00.000-05:002008-11-28T08:00:01.484-05:00Black Friday--Hoosier styleToday is the big day for all you shoppers. I typically don't venture out today because of the crowds...I'm not big on crowds of people shoving their way in front of the lines. But I had to share a couple of ads that were in the paper today.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixQahLwfZO0UDnD7NeWxEHjlUrPDukmPuFpixaXL6K-yAqUfy5fliz2I-6kzbqhv38_XMVAx9o0vGmDKzwxwuwscKEydil90MOSQNXReLPxYSga2WG6A2NIPgXtIjrxgG6nCYTZwIspu3q/s1600-h/img_0700.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 179px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixQahLwfZO0UDnD7NeWxEHjlUrPDukmPuFpixaXL6K-yAqUfy5fliz2I-6kzbqhv38_XMVAx9o0vGmDKzwxwuwscKEydil90MOSQNXReLPxYSga2WG6A2NIPgXtIjrxgG6nCYTZwIspu3q/s320/img_0700.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273571122741599362" border="0" /></a><br /><br />First, the recliner. Um, camo recliner? Seriously? Where are you going to use it? Instead of a tree stand for hunting deer, just use this recliner. Kick back, put your feet up, and wait for the deer in comfort. They'll never see you, because...hey, your recliner is camo and blends in.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGkmFeJ3ixA10HOn2_Ejh7AAKyODOsd6febEjBNpDBWdL1ewGEI9rsFW9LrRaHJG9GSETQMttXXr5siYPcts9S__bMlxSR7ru4qtES-6l4hq_KJL17cfXQPQOHCjbEtuAq8weFOSXlqScG/s1600-h/img_0701.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGkmFeJ3ixA10HOn2_Ejh7AAKyODOsd6febEjBNpDBWdL1ewGEI9rsFW9LrRaHJG9GSETQMttXXr5siYPcts9S__bMlxSR7ru4qtES-6l4hq_KJL17cfXQPQOHCjbEtuAq8weFOSXlqScG/s320/img_0701.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273571658417197058" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Then there's this lovely picture. Look at all the beautiful Christmas decorations. How wonderful would it be to relax in front of this beautifully decorated setting? But, wait....what's in the fireplace? Is that a guarantee to never have to replenish the fire? Or is it just a way to have one fire for the whole winter?<br /><br />Gotta love redneck ads.......Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-89113254546053710122008-11-27T08:00:00.000-05:002008-11-27T08:00:00.122-05:00I can cook, I promise!I know...I know. You're still munching on turkey and dressing. But, I was reminded recently of this exchange I had with my mom.<br /><br />One year for Thanksgiving, I was discussing the menu with my mom. As she covered every conceivable dish for the day, I finally asked her what I could bring. I was excited to contribute to our feast as I had a new home with a great kitchen in which I could concoct a fantastic dish.<br /><br />Mom thought for a while and kept pointing out that all the sides were covered. I insisted and finally said, "Mom! I want to bring something besides drinks! What can I bring?" She finally relented and said that I could bring cole slaw. I said, "Great! I can make cole slaw." She then informed me, "Ummm, honey? Your dad and I love Long John Silver's cole slaw. Couldn't you just go there and buy some?"<br /><br />Did you know that you can't buy LJS cole slaw in any size besides the individual size? Yeah, I found out as I bought 10 of them for our Thanksgiving dinner. The lady behind the counter couldn't stop laughing as I told her the reason behind my request. She kept giggling at my pitiful story of how my mom didn't want me to make anything for dinner.Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-53323182272382816412008-11-26T08:00:00.000-05:002008-11-26T08:00:03.127-05:00Blagodarnost<div>That's Bulgarian for thanksgiving. Just a quick list of things for which I'm grateful:</div><div> </div><br /><ul><li>A septic system that flushes toilet paper. And that I don't have to use any more Joseph Smith First Vision pamphlets to do my business (it seemed so wrong to use that, but what was a missionary to do when there was no toilet paper anywhere in the country?)</li><br /><li>Music and the ability to carry a decent tune.</li><br /><li>Friends who make me laugh and cry with me (sometimes they make me cry from laughter).</li><br /><li>Modern day conveniences for a fertile woman.</li><br /><li>Family who drives me batty but loves me unconditionally.</li><br /><li>Mountain Dew for stressful days.</li><br /><li>A wood burning fireplace with plenty of wood.</li><br /><li>A supportive and uplifting bra. (you thought I was going to say friend, weren't you?)</li><br /><li>The extended version of Lord of the Rings with the cast commentary (if you haven't watched it, you are missing on some mighty humorous commentary).</li><br /><li>Men with their manly quirks (of course, this is coming from a single woman....).</li><br /><li>College basketball.</li><br /><li>Nice smelling candles...lots of them.</li><br /><li>Sleeping alone which means I can make noises and smells without embarrassment (except when I blog about it)--see previous entry.</li><br /><li>Healthy and pretty teeth.</li><br /><li>Being a Daughter of God.</li><br /><li>The means and ability to travel and experience the grandeur of God's creations.</li><br /><li>The fact that Dove and Ghiradelli dark chocolate are not against the Word of Wisdom (since I'm a chocolate snob, not just any chocolate gets my motor running).<br /></li></ul><br /><div> </div><br /><div> </div>Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-53966551749962123152008-11-25T08:00:00.000-05:002008-11-25T08:00:02.209-05:00A little bit country<div>I love country music. I always tell people that I was raised on country sunshine (for anyone who knows country, that's a reference to a country song from long ago).<br /><br /></div><div> </div>I love country music. So many people make fun of country or complain about it. But, come on! What other type of music can have such fantastic songs about fried chicken, a huge International Harvester tractor, an old Chevy Nova, long-haired country boys, or even red high heels.<br /><div> </div><br />I love country music. Some of the newcomers are more pop than country, but I still love the essence of country music. They sing about real life, an ideal life (for the most part), or a comfortable life. Some of the best songs are about mothers, dogs, and deep abiding love. <br /><div> </div><br /><div>I love country music. In all other genres of music, the artists are known and expected to be arrogant, cocky, egotistical and flamboyant. Country music stars are patriotic, God-fearing, respectful, and grateful. Usually any flamboyance is done with humor--remember the sparkles of Porter Wagner or Dolly Parton's...ahem...assets? These are examples of flamboyant personalities that have become the topic of many jokes.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>I love country music. Those songs tug at my heart or memories. Hearing Jim Reeves will always remind me of my grandma. Hearing "I'll Go To My Grave Loving You" from the Statler Brothers will always remind me of my mom. Listening to "Sneaky Snakes" by Tom T. Hall will always put a smile on my face as I think of my childhood. Tricia Yearwood's "Thinking About You" will always remind me of my first love. Her song, "On a Bus to St. Cloud" will always remind me of my first heartbreak. "Can I Have This Dance" will remind me of a love that I continue to seek. "Country Boy Can Survive" from Hank Jr. makes me yearn to be so independent and capable. And of course Lee Greenwood's "God Bless the USA" brings tears to my eyes as I reflect on America and her heroes.<br /><br />I love country music. Of course there are some songs that are less than appropriate. Generally, those songs don't stay popular for long. The songs that do stay popular that are about the stereotypical topic of cheating often are filled with real feelings regarding the subject. Regardless, just like any other genre of music, there are immoral songs, but that doesn't negate the pure sound and goodness that country embodies.<br /></div><div> </div><br /><div>I love country music. I love a variety of genres of music. But as a recent country hit says, it's like a pair of jeans that fit just right, or the touch of a precious child, or feeling the love of a mother. It's home and everything that it represents.</div>Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-68006721588873898532008-11-24T08:10:00.001-05:002008-11-24T08:10:00.608-05:00A funnyI saw this slogan on the back of a septic tank truck: <br /><br />"We're #1 in the #2 business!"Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045666514757180963.post-23415412436764887952008-11-24T08:00:00.000-05:002008-11-24T08:00:01.273-05:00Why am I single?I think I've figured out why I'm single. I only attract gay men. Seriously.<br /><br />When I was in high school, I formed a huge crush on Greg Louganis, the Olympic diver. I became a huge fan from the 1984 Olympics and whenever diving was on TV, I made sure I had a front row seat and a rag to wipe the drool from my face.<br /><br />When he came to Indy for a dive meet, I was able to see him and meet him afterwards. While he was signing my program, I asked him to my prom. He was very polite and asked me when it was. Unfortunately, he had another meet that weekend and would not be able to attend. About a year or so later, I was reading an interview of him in a magazine. He was asked how he handles all the adoration. He mentioned that he has been asked on dates from young women and their mothers, asked to attend a prom (THAT'S ME!!!), and other invitations. <br /><br />By the time he announced that he was gay, I had moved on in my celebrity crush cycle.<br /><br />The first year that I watched American Idol, the two finalists were Reuben Studdard and Clay Aiken. I was a Clay fan from his first audition. He has such a fantastic voice in such an unlikely face. He seems to be a genuinely nice man and I enjoyed his progression throughout that season. I bought a couple of his CDs and have enjoyed them.<br /><br />By the time he announced that he was gay, I had moved on to another favorite singer.<br /><br />I recently traveled to Minneapolis and while there visited the Mall of America, the largest mall in the US. That place is huge and since I am so terribly directionally challenged, I got lost while in the mall. As I was contemplating the directory and how to interpret that map, a salesman approached me. He shook my hand and complimented me on the softness of my hand as well as my style of clothing. He said he knew I wasn't from Minnesota as all women from Minnesota have rough skin and wear flannel. I thanked him kindly for the compliments and then he leaned closer. He softly warned me to not hug or kiss him because he was gay.<br /><br />By the time he announced that he was gay, I had moved on in my search for an escape door.Beefchehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16220912762746958102noreply@blogger.com2