<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888</id><updated>2012-02-14T20:37:00.100-08:00</updated><category term='Get-Aways'/><category term='Fall Fun'/><category term='Ski Trip'/><category term='Cadets'/><category term='Family Events'/><category term='Remembrance Day'/><category term='Our Sweet Four Year Old'/><category term='Water'/><category term='Summer Fun'/><category term='Cooper'/><category term='Colt'/><category term='Brothers'/><title type='text'>Raising My Boys In The Country</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>214</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-500874923966882084</id><published>2008-06-12T21:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T23:07:58.745-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cadet Annual Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;This past weekend our two older boys Colt and Dane, had their Annual Review for Cadets. This is when they have an officer from another Corp come and inspect them. There are dignitaries that visit - the Mayor, and other important people, and the Cadets have a chance to show some of their Drill and Ceremony. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This is also the day that the awards are given out for the year. I was going to be on the Road Trip during this Annual Review, but a call from the Captain made it sure that I would be home in time for the big day. She told me that the boys were going to get some pretty big awards and could I be there. Of course! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you recall from our Road Trip, I showed how at the RCMP Academy, the guy in charge of all the troops was the position Colt was hoping to hold. At the time of my writing, there were three Warrants working hard for the position of RSM. This person is in charge of all the Cadets, including the CSM. The CSM is in charge of the troop, and the other Warrant is a backup. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;If there were 5 or 10 troops the RSM is in charge of all of those troops, including their leaders (CSM's). So you can see that it is a position to be striven for! Colt worked very hard, and from what I could see it was a given that he would earn it. He did not once show that he felt he had the promotion - he always showed amazing character and did everything he could to more than meet the expectations of his Officers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211234681769714434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFIGVTAUYwI/AAAAAAAAENU/akw9VoqAve0/s400/100_0006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Royal Canadian Army Cadet Corp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFICpYqaLVI/AAAAAAAAEM8/ExxaOHZnNxQ/s1600-h/100_0014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211230628839304530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFICpYqaLVI/AAAAAAAAEM8/ExxaOHZnNxQ/s400/100_0014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Waiting For the Reviewing Officer (RO) to Come On the Parade Square&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFICp7w9plI/AAAAAAAAENE/ZD4kK0f8uNs/s1600-h/100_0019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211230638262036050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFICp7w9plI/AAAAAAAAENE/ZD4kK0f8uNs/s400/100_0019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;March Past - Eyes Right Respecting the Reviewing Officer (A Major)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;When they began calling out the awards for the day I was so surprised to hear the awards our boys received!! They have worked hard for three years, but there is so much competition for each award that it is very hard to be the recipient of one of the trophies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFICqCNLq3I/AAAAAAAAENM/P3DC-GI2szI/s1600-h/100_0025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211230639991008114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFICqCNLq3I/AAAAAAAAENM/P3DC-GI2szI/s400/100_0025.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Top Silver Star&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;To receive any of the Top Star Awards the cadets have to meet the following criteria: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Individual cadet that shows a high level of achievement in all aspects of star level training, and continually demonstrates an above average consistency in deportment and dress. He also shows a willingness and ability to work with others, and demonstrates some leadership ability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dane was fortunate to tie for this award with his best friend, Ian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH9f5WxYXI/AAAAAAAAEME/9abABzC9RVw/s1600-h/100_0026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211224968258478450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH9f5WxYXI/AAAAAAAAEME/9abABzC9RVw/s400/100_0026.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Top Gold Star&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH9gbFeY5I/AAAAAAAAEMM/kPWamTmo-ZQ/s1600-h/100_0027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211224977312736146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH9gbFeY5I/AAAAAAAAEMM/kPWamTmo-ZQ/s400/100_0027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Saluting Before Receiving His Award&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH9g-HLkRI/AAAAAAAAEMU/U_NFXnWc-1c/s1600-h/100_0028.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211224986715132178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH9g-HLkRI/AAAAAAAAEMU/U_NFXnWc-1c/s400/100_0028.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Most Improved NCM (Non Commissioned Member)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH9hH4hmII/AAAAAAAAEMc/KXMFy79-vrU/s1600-h/100_0032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211224989338015874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH9hH4hmII/AAAAAAAAEMc/KXMFy79-vrU/s400/100_0032.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; This award is to provide recognition for individual endeavors in the areas of citizenship in meeting and enhancing the aims and objectives of the Cadet organization. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH9hnshdYI/AAAAAAAAEMk/AvU0nKDV958/s1600-h/dane+award.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211224997877609858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH9hnshdYI/AAAAAAAAEMk/AvU0nKDV958/s400/dane+award.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Royal Canadian Legion Cadet Medal of Excellence (Cadet Medal)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH8PjynKII/AAAAAAAAELc/PJFPsH76P0E/s1600-h/100_0036.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211223588080134274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH8PjynKII/AAAAAAAAELc/PJFPsH76P0E/s400/100_0036.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Lord Strathcona Medal (Military Medal)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH8QDcpFrI/AAAAAAAAELk/lag5s-61xd0/s1600-h/100_0037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211223596577920690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH8QDcpFrI/AAAAAAAAELk/lag5s-61xd0/s400/100_0037.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; The Strathcona Medal is granted in recognition of a high performance in physical and military training. One medal and a Certificate of Merit are awarded by the Strathcona Trust Provincial Committee to one deserving cadet in each Corps annually. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH8R_hZSHI/AAAAAAAAELs/liOC5cR5rdg/s1600-h/100_0038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211223629883852914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH8R_hZSHI/AAAAAAAAELs/liOC5cR5rdg/s400/100_0038.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Commanding Officers Award of Merit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The CO's Award of Merit is given to a cadet that has striven to better the world around him and the cadet corps he belongs to. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH8Sd3bSpI/AAAAAAAAEL0/Rrfnb75BguY/s1600-h/100_0044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211223638029322898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH8Sd3bSpI/AAAAAAAAEL0/Rrfnb75BguY/s400/100_0044.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;General Salute&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH8TdRUQ9I/AAAAAAAAEL8/orLFqqIaCmI/s1600-h/100_0047.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211223655049348050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH8TdRUQ9I/AAAAAAAAEL8/orLFqqIaCmI/s400/100_0047.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Warrant Officer Lafreniere Leaving the Parade (RSM: Regimental Seargant Major)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He has now left the CSM (Company Seargent Major) in charge of the parade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH6A0y0RWI/AAAAAAAAEK0/oB7QjIBXl88/s1600-h/100_0050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211221135923103074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH6A0y0RWI/AAAAAAAAEK0/oB7QjIBXl88/s400/100_0050.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Proud Dane Leading the Parade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the parade the cadets had a competition. The four senior cadets (including Colt) had to put up a 10 man tent, while the eleven junior cadets (including Dane) had to put up a 5 man tent. The race was on and they had a very close race! When it was all said and done the Reviewing Officer inspected the tents. The Junior Cadets finished first (by a minute or so), but the Senior Cadets had their tent perfect. There was only *one* small difference between the two set of cadets - one small string was not put away on the Junior's tent. Overall, both teams did fantastic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH6Ba4PxKI/AAAAAAAAEK8/ujNR7aGle0A/s1600-h/100_0055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211221146146423970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH6Ba4PxKI/AAAAAAAAEK8/ujNR7aGle0A/s400/100_0055.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH6BuOrbJI/AAAAAAAAELE/DhsteR16NX4/s1600-h/100_0062.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211221151340784786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH6BuOrbJI/AAAAAAAAELE/DhsteR16NX4/s400/100_0062.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After that was done 2nd Left Tenant Bacchmeier explained to interested adults about the IMP's. These are meals, ready to eat, that the Cadets get when they go on exercises. I have always been very *suspicious* of these, not wanting the boys to eat their left over packages when they come home from their weekends away. I was sure these foods were packaged in some kind of nasty preservatives. I mean, after all, these food containers are the same ones the military use, and they are stored for a long time!!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My boys *love* this stuff. I will come in their rooms and they will be sitting there eating beef stew out of a tinfoil ziploc baggie!! *laugh* Each of these meals comes with coffee, tea, chocolate, cookies, main course, dessert, drink, bread etc! And it all fits in a 6"x7"x2" box!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, the Left Tenant had us try this suspicious food. I have to confess it was really quite good! And it seems that they are not loaded with preservatives - it is the packaging that makes them store well! (Even my dad had a try of them!) The little boys cleaned up at the end of the demonstration - do you think any adults wanted to take the leftovers home? Well, those little boys finally had their own IMP's!! *grin*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH6CC1mhXI/AAAAAAAAELM/wMvTLzpE4K8/s1600-h/100_0064.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211221156872750450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH6CC1mhXI/AAAAAAAAELM/wMvTLzpE4K8/s400/100_0064.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH6CUk7LpI/AAAAAAAAELU/b7RYVIB7NlQ/s1600-h/100_0067.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211221161634639506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH6CUk7LpI/AAAAAAAAELU/b7RYVIB7NlQ/s400/100_0067.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Proud Grandparents with the Boys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH3MGZ46lI/AAAAAAAAEKM/IvHwwtOR1oA/s1600-h/100_0069.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211218031094065746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH3MGZ46lI/AAAAAAAAEKM/IvHwwtOR1oA/s400/100_0069.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;The Corp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH3MV4crpI/AAAAAAAAEKU/h3O4jYY74ao/s1600-h/100_0074.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211218035248770706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH3MV4crpI/AAAAAAAAEKU/h3O4jYY74ao/s400/100_0074.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Briton and 2nd Left Tenant Bacchmeier&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a similar picture to this of Colt when he was six weeks old! He was in Vernon, at the Cadet Camp where he will be teaching this coming summer. He was wearing a cadet beret and being held by the Chaplain, who just happened to be his cousin from Winnipeg! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH3NIGcPZI/AAAAAAAAEKc/N9KihtbQVxk/s1600-h/100_0076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211218048729234834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH3NIGcPZI/AAAAAAAAEKc/N9KihtbQVxk/s400/100_0076.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Warrant Lafreniere and Corporal Lafreniere&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH3NVC7AGI/AAAAAAAAEKk/3KFmsZbfEYI/s1600-h/100_0078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211218052204134498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH3NVC7AGI/AAAAAAAAEKk/3KFmsZbfEYI/s400/100_0078.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Buddies (but still in competition)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211218067315040354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFH3ONVpIGI/AAAAAAAAEKs/fMA6WUx6MRE/s400/100_0079.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Dane and His Friend, Ian&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I am very proud of Dane and Colt. This post will show you why it will be such a hard decision for Colt if our trip to Africa crosses the 2 months that he is to be teaching in Vernon! Vernon is so important to him, as the RSM: it is part of the package of being chosen as RSM of his own Corp. We can only pray that it will all fall into place where it is supposed to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;December 4, 2008, just happens to be a Thursday night. That is the day that Cassidy turns 12 years old. He has great intentions on attending his very first Cadet night with his brothers on his birthday. He is very excited to join the ranks!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-500874923966882084?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/500874923966882084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=500874923966882084' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/500874923966882084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/500874923966882084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/06/cadet-annual-review.html' title='Cadet Annual Review'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFIGVTAUYwI/AAAAAAAAENU/akw9VoqAve0/s72-c/100_0006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-1216078831563134387</id><published>2008-06-11T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T21:28:48.127-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Driving Home - Day 18</title><content type='html'>Wednesday was our last day. We were up early and gone by 10:00 am. We had an amazing road trip and it was so great to finish it with new friends. Friends who feel like we have been friends forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210845203080010434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCkGp0h2sI/AAAAAAAAEJE/oTDNESCvAnw/s400/100_5460.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Austin Thinks the World of Caity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The kids have kept up there contact. Caity had a blog and harrassed Dane into creating his own. Cassidy already had a blog, but now he had good reason to keep it updated. And now the older ones are emailing silly messages back and forth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In two short weeks, Corrie and her tribe, (as she calls them; I call them lunatics,) will be travelling our way for a five day visit. Our kids are starting their planning already and have some fun ideas in mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then hopefully it won't be many more weeks before we send four boys back their way for a two week visit, while we go and get the girls. By then I am sure they will be sick of us!! LOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sites on the way home were amazing. Near Revelstoke there is so much to see. I am planning to head back that way next summer. Hopefully I will have bought a small RV by then, so our two families can do some camping. I am thinking that Rambling Road Trip #3 is not in the plans for next year. Not with the girls being so new to us and all. A nice, relaxed camping trip might be more in order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210845212756920834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCkHN3rygI/AAAAAAAAEJM/3kuuM5Qdd90/s400/100_5461.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210845219329758370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCkHmWxVKI/AAAAAAAAEJU/tdfqkVa2ihs/s400/100_5462.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210845229243601154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCkILSakQI/AAAAAAAAEJc/dxHqdnQ5s-w/s400/100_5464.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got to Cache Creek the boys all bought a milkshake with their spending money. Shortly later, while I was enjoying my strawberry shake, Cooper began to cry. He said he had spilled his milkshake. I pulled the car over, turned around in my seat, and then realized he had not spilled his shake. He had puked! ICK! Poor guy!! He had been fighting a bug for the last couple days and then I think the milkshake hit his stomach too hard. He was fine after that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a way to spend the next 1.5 hours!!! First we did our best cleaning out the car, and then we drove with our windows open the rest of the way home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210845241433759602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCkI4sxn3I/AAAAAAAAEJk/46dyn5YQbIk/s400/100_5473.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Briton Enjoying His Shake &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;(after ten hours in the carseat)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You would never know that this little boy, who doesn't like being in a carseat for the five hour trip to the coast, could happily withstand 2 1/2 weeks in the car, driving 5000 km!! NEVER a fuss! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-1216078831563134387?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/1216078831563134387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=1216078831563134387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1216078831563134387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1216078831563134387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/06/driving-home-day-18.html' title='Driving Home - Day 18'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCkGp0h2sI/AAAAAAAAEJE/oTDNESCvAnw/s72-c/100_5460.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-957319962214608133</id><published>2008-06-11T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T20:52:00.457-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 14 - Visiting Friends and then on Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;We had a blast visiting our friends in Cranbrook. The kids continued to get along so well. So well in fact, that they have offered to keep four of our children while we go to Ethiopia. God is good. He takes care of all the details. Who would have known when we signed up for this adoption that our family would meet another likeminded, Christian family, with children similar ages. A family that we would connect with so well.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210832366575259362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCYbeHTjuI/AAAAAAAAEIc/G7H3acBIGI8/s400/100_5455.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;We Visited Fort Steele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCYd6AUa1I/AAAAAAAAEIs/jv2WbeYy4_0/s1600-h/100_5435.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210832408421886802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCYd6AUa1I/AAAAAAAAEIs/jv2WbeYy4_0/s400/100_5435.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCYeRcyi4I/AAAAAAAAEI0/G3PZ69v8VMA/s1600-h/100_5436.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210832414715317122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCYeRcyi4I/AAAAAAAAEI0/G3PZ69v8VMA/s400/100_5436.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt; Taking a Quiet Stroll Through the Long Grass, While...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCYe2n44eI/AAAAAAAAEI8/uOWSVY4tVDI/s1600-h/100_5437.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210832424693981666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCYe2n44eI/AAAAAAAAEI8/uOWSVY4tVDI/s400/100_5437.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt; A Mad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt; Man Came Bearing Down On Us!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;(Check out his maniac face - what an actor)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCXzyUE85I/AAAAAAAAEH0/ewimf36dzn8/s1600-h/100_5443.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210831684802769810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCXzyUE85I/AAAAAAAAEH0/ewimf36dzn8/s400/100_5443.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Watching the Black Smith At Work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCX0dq2bvI/AAAAAAAAEH8/XRkecUgR04k/s1600-h/100_5444.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210831696441011954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCX0dq2bvI/AAAAAAAAEH8/XRkecUgR04k/s400/100_5444.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt; Panning For Gold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCX01FDhBI/AAAAAAAAEIE/paOsTq6Wi3E/s1600-h/100_5447.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210831702724936722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCX01FDhBI/AAAAAAAAEIE/paOsTq6Wi3E/s400/100_5447.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Proud of His Gold That He Panned&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCX1iUg46I/AAAAAAAAEIM/7srI0x9H3T0/s1600-h/100_5450.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210831714869371810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCX1iUg46I/AAAAAAAAEIM/7srI0x9H3T0/s400/100_5450.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Riding a Tractor Bearing His Name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCX2Qr5XeI/AAAAAAAAEIU/J3F07Q3_09o/s1600-h/100_5451.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210831727315475938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCX2Qr5XeI/AAAAAAAAEIU/J3F07Q3_09o/s400/100_5451.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;The Whole Crazy Bunch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210832374496698402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCYb7n7ICI/AAAAAAAAEIk/3w4cq4HJTYo/s400/100_5433.jpg" border="0" /&gt;These two did dishes most evenings. They are a couple of nutcases!! Branflake and Cornflake is what they answer to. Two peas in a pod, for sure! Lots of laughs were had with everyone, but especially those two!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;One day Corrie's oldest daughter offered to take the kids for a ride up to the lake. The idea was to do hotdogs, or some such thing. The older four kids joined Courtney in her car and headed for the lake. We came up about an hour later, only to find that the kids had gone 'four by fouring' up a rocky mountain road, and the car refused to drive and there was oil everywhere. There was a problem. Oooopppss! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;After calling a friend the problem was resolved and the truck was able to run again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCW6TaRDKI/AAAAAAAAEHU/dZP6qE7QSlc/s1600-h/100_5425.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210830697254685858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCW6TaRDKI/AAAAAAAAEHU/dZP6qE7QSlc/s400/100_5425.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCW6woLuJI/AAAAAAAAEHc/bB1RgSgfato/s1600-h/100_5431.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210830705097685138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCW6woLuJI/AAAAAAAAEHc/bB1RgSgfato/s400/100_5431.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210830722788564050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCW7yiBHFI/AAAAAAAAEHs/hTEU7XEHC5U/s400/100_5424.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCW7U18b7I/AAAAAAAAEHk/KIBntYurQ4U/s1600-h/100_5420.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210830714819080114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCW7U18b7I/AAAAAAAAEHk/KIBntYurQ4U/s400/100_5420.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Cassidy Having Riding Lessons From Caity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCRTteWkqI/AAAAAAAAEHM/g1xkiHcbFNo/s1600-h/100_5393.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210824536678109858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCRTteWkqI/AAAAAAAAEHM/g1xkiHcbFNo/s400/100_5393.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt; Who's the Crazy Lady in the Weird Hat?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCQf-g9OWI/AAAAAAAAEGk/UrAnNty1fac/s1600-h/100_5395.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210823647899236706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCQf-g9OWI/AAAAAAAAEGk/UrAnNty1fac/s400/100_5395.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Piano Lessons With Caity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCQhNpKbAI/AAAAAAAAEGs/IqnGkVYfwQk/s1600-h/100_5399.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210823669140057090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCQhNpKbAI/AAAAAAAAEGs/IqnGkVYfwQk/s400/100_5399.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;ATV Rides With Stunt Man Brycen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCQiftV0_I/AAAAAAAAEG0/psgVbZ94bvU/s1600-h/100_5402.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210823691169289202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCQiftV0_I/AAAAAAAAEG0/psgVbZ94bvU/s400/100_5402.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;The Laundry Man Cooper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Cooper loved this washing line and was always hanging up anything that he could find. Corrie kept having a conniption, thinking he was going to fall. I reminded her that if she gets boys (as she wants) in her referral, she better get used to this! Boy do not do boring things. They live daring!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;During the course of our visit these are few of the things that happened (boy related): &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;1) Austin, in his curiousity, stuck a spider trap to the wall. I have never seen these things before. They stick like crazy glue! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;2) Dane decided to fix the problem, and removed the spider trap... and half the wall! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;3) The piano lid was removed and when I left it was sitting on the floor - still not repaired. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;4) The sliding french doors in the livingroom were hanging by one hinge? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;(Disclaimer: I am *certain* the french doors and piano lid *must* have had  problem before we arrived! LOL!!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;5) Austin, having realized the power in the spider traps (and not having learned his lesson!!) decided to take the cover off a new one and *chase* Caity through the house with his open sticky pad! Caity in her mad dash to keep away from him nearly broke her toe on a door! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I asked Corrie after this was all done if she was SURE she still wanted a referral for boys specifically?! She said she was still interested! Ha! I can't wait to see her get 2 boys!! LOL!!!  Good thing we are friends and she is so understanding. I was *mortified* when I had to confess the FIRST incident!! Thankfully, she took it with laughter and proceeded to tell me about her son's incidents. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCQinxvuyI/AAAAAAAAEG8/3WTrBz9QVBo/s1600-h/100_5405.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210823693335247650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCQinxvuyI/AAAAAAAAEG8/3WTrBz9QVBo/s400/100_5405.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Briton Loved Sadie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cooper thought he had the dogs trained because he would say words and they would obey. He had no idea that they were highly trained before we arrived. It was cute to see his pride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCQjP1XyFI/AAAAAAAAEHE/hTSY30KkkYc/s1600-h/100_5413.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210823704087873618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCQjP1XyFI/AAAAAAAAEHE/hTSY30KkkYc/s400/100_5413.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Cooper Loved Bruce&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When Cooper first met Bruce, he said, "Nice name". He would hang out with Bruce and chat. One day he was almost in tears because he was 'supposed to go to work with Bruce,' and Bruce got held up on a situation. Cooper is a very loving little boy. I am sure Bruce had  tired ears by the time we left! But he was a good sport through all the chattering and noise!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And even during the honey/icecream fight that certain people decided to have one evening! Can you imagine? What kind of uncivilized people would do that!?! *laugh*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-957319962214608133?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/957319962214608133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=957319962214608133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/957319962214608133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/957319962214608133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/06/day-14-visiting-friends-and-then-on.html' title='Day 14 - Visiting Friends and then on Home'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SFCYbeHTjuI/AAAAAAAAEIc/G7H3acBIGI8/s72-c/100_5455.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-155520441189358928</id><published>2008-06-01T13:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T14:38:16.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Road Trip Day 13 - Calgary to Banff and On</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; Today was our last day. We packed up our rooms and headed to Corrie's. She headed down South and I head West, to Banff. I used to work in Banff when I was 19 years old, and our children have heard stories for years of my life there. They have always wanted to see it, so I thought it was a good time to take them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207023503906648514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMQSe93McI/AAAAAAAAEFo/IaxVbNg574A/s400/100_5318.jpg" border="0" /&gt;This is in Calgary. It is for the 2010 Olympics. Dane says they are ski jumps!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMQSu93MdI/AAAAAAAAEFw/BxrFbtBVG0I/s1600-h/100_5320.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207023508201615826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMQSu93MdI/AAAAAAAAEFw/BxrFbtBVG0I/s400/100_5320.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Beautiful Distant Rockie Mountains&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMQTO93MeI/AAAAAAAAEF4/OCiaw80YhAc/s1600-h/100_5324.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMQTe93MfI/AAAAAAAAEGA/LjS8jofJsPE/s1600-h/100_5324.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207023521086517746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMQTe93MfI/AAAAAAAAEGA/LjS8jofJsPE/s400/100_5324.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The hotel has grown by about 125% at least, since I was there last. Where I used to live (the first time I worked there) was torn down and they then (in 1989ish) built new rooms for the hotel. This is joined onto the hotel and from the inside it is hard to tell where the old building leaves off and the addition connects! I do know that it was very easy to get disoriented while in there! I had to find the old part of the hotel to know which end was up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207020213961699714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMNS-93MYI/AAAAAAAAEFI/dbPtOzKfYZc/s400/100_5329.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMQTu93MgI/AAAAAAAAEGI/69Icw5mAY-o/s1600-h/100_5330.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207023525381485058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMQTu93MgI/AAAAAAAAEGI/69Icw5mAY-o/s400/100_5330.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMNTe93MZI/AAAAAAAAEFQ/nzXuSgOYbL0/s1600-h/100_5332.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207020222551634322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMNTe93MZI/AAAAAAAAEFQ/nzXuSgOYbL0/s400/100_5332.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The buildings up ahead used to be where the old staff accommodation was. They ripped them down and rebuilt them to look very similar to the old staff accomm. Now they are guest rooms. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMNTu93MaI/AAAAAAAAEFY/CDdS6aCS_K4/s1600-h/100_5333.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207020226846601634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMNTu93MaI/AAAAAAAAEFY/CDdS6aCS_K4/s400/100_5333.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMNUO93MbI/AAAAAAAAEFg/b1ceFvDAS2M/s1600-h/100_5335.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207020235436536242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMNUO93MbI/AAAAAAAAEFg/b1ceFvDAS2M/s400/100_5335.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Dane told me the hotel was way beyond what he was expecting to see. It truly is a remarkable hotel. When I worked there I felt very privileged as people paid big bucks to be in that hotel, and I got to live there! &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMMqu93MTI/AAAAAAAAEEg/2sErMyR1Bz8/s1600-h/100_5337.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207019522471964978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMMqu93MTI/AAAAAAAAEEg/2sErMyR1Bz8/s400/100_5337.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I used to clean this man's house in Banff town. He is the General Manager of the Banff Springs. This was one of my many jobs at the hotel. I worked in a gift shop, was a chambermaid for the hotel, cleaned staff rooms, worked at Harvey's restaurant, babysat guest children, and cleaned for the GM. That is how I got to Europe that year. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMMq-93MUI/AAAAAAAAEEo/qoc-RhJf0ss/s1600-h/100_5338.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207019526766932290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMMq-93MUI/AAAAAAAAEEo/qoc-RhJf0ss/s400/100_5338.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was one of the main areas I cleaned. From this upper galley hallway I could see down to the left. In the lower hall they would have real medieval feasts and such. I could sit on the hall chairs late at night when I was working and observe the guests festivities. Being a public areas maid was so much more fun than being a chambermaid! The uniforms were even cuter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMMru93MVI/AAAAAAAAEEw/TKxXX7AG7A0/s1600-h/100_5339.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207019539651834194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMMru93MVI/AAAAAAAAEEw/TKxXX7AG7A0/s400/100_5339.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is the staircase that leads down to the main floor where the feasts took place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMMse93MWI/AAAAAAAAEE4/q4X8L_kt3Hc/s1600-h/100_5343.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207019552536736098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMMse93MWI/AAAAAAAAEE4/q4X8L_kt3Hc/s400/100_5343.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is a piece of period furniture in the Medieval Hall.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMMs-93MXI/AAAAAAAAEFA/CND6pKxCl5Y/s1600-h/100_5344.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207019561126670706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMMs-93MXI/AAAAAAAAEFA/CND6pKxCl5Y/s400/100_5344.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is the staff accommodation that was built in time for my second year of working for Banff. We had little rooms that we shared with one roommate. The other staff accommodation could have as much as four people in a room. For those that were partiers that was probably great. For me, as a girl with a goal, I was happy to have a private room. That way I could focus on my money making endeavors and sleep when I could get it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207016133742768354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMJle93MOI/AAAAAAAAED4/dSXy1kGKCiM/s400/100_5345.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a view from the 9th floor. I used to clean the rooms up here sometimes. The rooms are tiny and the ceilings sloped and I had to lug the cleaning supplies up the stairs to the last few rooms way up in the points of the hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right ahead and to the right are the new staff accommodations. Actually, they are no longer new. About 23 years old now! Time flies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMJl-93MPI/AAAAAAAAEEA/EzuTp0nSypY/s1600-h/100_5351.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207016142332702962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMJl-93MPI/AAAAAAAAEEA/EzuTp0nSypY/s400/100_5351.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207016150922637570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMJme93MQI/AAAAAAAAEEI/ftte7zj9y4g/s400/100_5352.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;After we left the hotel we headed up to the Banff Cave and Basin. It is where the first hot springs were discovered in BC. It was the beginning of the Rocky Mountain National Park.  The boys weren't impressed with the smell of sulpher. The water comes down over Sulpher Mountain and seeps into the earth and then heats up by the inner core, and then bubbles up into the Hot Springs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207016159512572178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMJm-93MRI/AAAAAAAAEEQ/FkeUl8dypfw/s400/100_5355.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207016172397474082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMJnu93MSI/AAAAAAAAEEY/WJZLte6QoGQ/s400/100_5357.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took the trails up to the mountain to the look out point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207014840957612178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMIaO93MJI/AAAAAAAAEDQ/MLSTFw81i7g/s400/100_5361.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMIbO93MLI/AAAAAAAAEDg/qTwT-K6aSGc/s1600-h/100_5368.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207014858137481394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMIbO93MLI/AAAAAAAAEDg/qTwT-K6aSGc/s400/100_5368.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Leaving Banff&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMIbe93MMI/AAAAAAAAEDo/VHfJj7AZA0g/s1600-h/100_5370.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207014862432448706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMIbe93MMI/AAAAAAAAEDo/VHfJj7AZA0g/s400/100_5370.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The beautiful waters on the way through the Rockies. The waters were a bright turquoise blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMIbu93MNI/AAAAAAAAEDw/9p5tt8-M5m4/s1600-h/100_5372.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207014866727416018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMIbu93MNI/AAAAAAAAEDw/9p5tt8-M5m4/s400/100_5372.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;The Distant Mountains&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After leaving Banff we headed to Cranbrook for a visit with our friends. We have been here now for 2 days and the kids get along so well. They tease and joke, do chores together, play together and get along so well. It has been such a pleasure to get to know Corrie's family. Dane is already making sure we have their address for when we go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-155520441189358928?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/155520441189358928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=155520441189358928' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/155520441189358928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/155520441189358928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/06/road-trip-day-13-calgary-to-banff-and.html' title='Road Trip Day 13 - Calgary to Banff and On'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEMQSe93McI/AAAAAAAAEFo/IaxVbNg574A/s72-c/100_5318.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-5891320277433366407</id><published>2008-05-30T22:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T22:53:27.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Read Down Below</title><content type='html'>I posted Days 9 and 1o, down below - just above 8. There are two entries for Day 9 - two different events. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please scroll down the page to where you left off reading to catch up with some of the newest days. I am finally able to post pictures again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-5891320277433366407?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/5891320277433366407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=5891320277433366407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/5891320277433366407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/5891320277433366407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/read-down-below.html' title='Read Down Below'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-1759609339177372567</id><published>2008-05-29T21:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T14:43:44.769-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 12 - Calgary Heritage Park</title><content type='html'>Today was our last full day in Calgary. We woke up early and were ready to go by 8:30. Corrie told me that there would be thundershowers, so I was dressed for it. Good thing I decided after seeing the blue skies that the kids didn't need their coats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It turned out to be 20+ degrees and very hot! And there I was wearing dark long pants, plus a long sleeved knit shirt! Hot! Thankfully I had bought the kids all sunglasses for the icefields, so they were set for the sunshine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found the park and boy was it a big one! We took the trainride around and then the kids spent much time on all the fair rides. I was determined that we had come to the Heritage Park and not the Fair, and therefore we were going to see it all. I had to drag them away, but we did return later, so they could continue their rides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206658878363086818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHEqe93L-I/AAAAAAAAEB4/88XpefZuPYY/s400/100_5255.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHEq-93L_I/AAAAAAAAECA/H0NP3cA6w5k/s1600-h/100_5256.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206658886953021426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHEq-93L_I/AAAAAAAAECA/H0NP3cA6w5k/s400/100_5256.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHErO93MAI/AAAAAAAAECI/DUTQ0goLONc/s1600-h/100_5258.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206658891247988738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHErO93MAI/AAAAAAAAECI/DUTQ0goLONc/s400/100_5258.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We went to one of the fancy houses and they had a little play while we were there. It was about the housekeeper teaching etiquette to a cowgirl. It was really quite funny. While she was teaching the housekeeper asked if anyone else wanted to try out the lessons. No volunteers came forth. A little later, while another part of the play was going on, Tsega (age 2) began walking very 'properly', with her hands slightly out at the sides. It was very cute, and just like the lessons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well! One of the characters that had just entered the play noticed this right away and zeroed in on her. She immediately headed back off the edge of the play area to the safety of mum. It was very adorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cassidy was encouraged to take part in the play and he helped them with the ice experiment. We went to the little schoolhouse and the boys all had fun doing the lessons in their age bracket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHELe93L5I/AAAAAAAAEBQ/hO25XiowvsM/s1600-h/100_5261.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206658345787142034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHELe93L5I/AAAAAAAAEBQ/hO25XiowvsM/s400/100_5261.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHELu93L6I/AAAAAAAAEBY/H12LgOFsV1A/s1600-h/100_5263.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206658350082109346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHELu93L6I/AAAAAAAAEBY/H12LgOFsV1A/s400/100_5263.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHEL-93L7I/AAAAAAAAEBg/1uPxqmUcWDQ/s1600-h/100_5265.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206658354377076658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHEL-93L7I/AAAAAAAAEBg/1uPxqmUcWDQ/s400/100_5265.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHEMe93L8I/AAAAAAAAEBo/o-Dbm733b7Y/s1600-h/100_5266.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206658362967011266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHEMe93L8I/AAAAAAAAEBo/o-Dbm733b7Y/s400/100_5266.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took Briton on the Ferris Wheel and while we were going around for the *twentieth* time (thereabouts, seriously!) I asked him, "Is this fun?" "No," he replied. "Is this scary?" "Yes," he nodded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the same time as finding it scary, he didn't show it and wanted to go on again. I think it was the length of the ride. It made my stomach feel gross!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206657581282963330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHDe-93L4I/AAAAAAAAEBI/mrp0XbOAF0s/s400/100_5287.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHEMu93L9I/AAAAAAAAEBw/gOwSmUj6EAM/s1600-h/100_5267.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206658367261978578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHEMu93L9I/AAAAAAAAEBw/gOwSmUj6EAM/s400/100_5267.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHDc-93L0I/AAAAAAAAEAo/l7R4StzUYWY/s1600-h/100_5269.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206657546923224898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHDc-93L0I/AAAAAAAAEAo/l7R4StzUYWY/s400/100_5269.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHDde93L1I/AAAAAAAAEAw/q47rfPgDyiA/s1600-h/100_5270.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206657555513159506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHDde93L1I/AAAAAAAAEAw/q47rfPgDyiA/s400/100_5270.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHDeO93L2I/AAAAAAAAEA4/Ny_YOAI6_HI/s1600-h/100_5275.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206657568398061410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHDeO93L2I/AAAAAAAAEA4/Ny_YOAI6_HI/s400/100_5275.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHDee93L3I/AAAAAAAAEBA/wp6yH-a82-0/s1600-h/100_5279.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206657572693028722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHDee93L3I/AAAAAAAAEBA/wp6yH-a82-0/s400/100_5279.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHCZe93LvI/AAAAAAAAEAA/ThmM1bgF72A/s1600-h/100_5288.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206656387282054898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHCZe93LvI/AAAAAAAAEAA/ThmM1bgF72A/s400/100_5288.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Dane found a convenient way to pack Briton around on his back - on top of his backpack. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHCZu93LwI/AAAAAAAAEAI/Aji-2LGCz08/s1600-h/100_5290.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206656391577022210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHCZu93LwI/AAAAAAAAEAI/Aji-2LGCz08/s400/100_5290.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Briton was very quick to bring his slate up for the teacher to see. He drew circles. *smile* As usual the big kids were great helpers with the little ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHCZ-93LxI/AAAAAAAAEAQ/uPoO1xA25iM/s1600-h/100_5291.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHCae93LyI/AAAAAAAAEAY/_fVpg-HQF4g/s1600-h/100_5291.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206656404461924130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHCae93LyI/AAAAAAAAEAY/_fVpg-HQF4g/s400/100_5291.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHCau93LzI/AAAAAAAAEAg/6iPrmXkqA-I/s1600-h/100_5293.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206656408756891442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHCau93LzI/AAAAAAAAEAg/6iPrmXkqA-I/s400/100_5293.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHBp-93LqI/AAAAAAAAD_Y/emqc1PPoeo4/s1600-h/100_5294.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206655571238268578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHBp-93LqI/AAAAAAAAD_Y/emqc1PPoeo4/s400/100_5294.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHBqe93LrI/AAAAAAAAD_g/8kbXaX_ZKDE/s1600-h/100_5297.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206655579828203186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHBqe93LrI/AAAAAAAAD_g/8kbXaX_ZKDE/s400/100_5297.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHBq-93LsI/AAAAAAAAD_o/pX3C0WgkWhE/s1600-h/100_5298.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206655588418137794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHBq-93LsI/AAAAAAAAD_o/pX3C0WgkWhE/s400/100_5298.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHBrO93LtI/AAAAAAAAD_w/r1w4UKzJ7pY/s1600-h/100_5300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206655592713105106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHBrO93LtI/AAAAAAAAD_w/r1w4UKzJ7pY/s400/100_5300.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHBru93LuI/AAAAAAAAD_4/D6a4P2FJOsY/s1600-h/100_5301.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206655601303039714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHBru93LuI/AAAAAAAAD_4/D6a4P2FJOsY/s400/100_5301.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG_6e93LlI/AAAAAAAAD-w/H8uIIZBK-zA/s1600-h/100_5302.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206653655682854482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG_6e93LlI/AAAAAAAAD-w/H8uIIZBK-zA/s400/100_5302.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG_6-93LmI/AAAAAAAAD-4/SDRzFC3Z3aM/s1600-h/100_5306.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206653664272789090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG_6-93LmI/AAAAAAAAD-4/SDRzFC3Z3aM/s400/100_5306.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;The Kids Enjoying an Ice Cream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG_7u93LnI/AAAAAAAAD_A/2GeuJNZeOXg/s1600-h/100_5308.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206653677157690994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG_7u93LnI/AAAAAAAAD_A/2GeuJNZeOXg/s400/100_5308.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG_7-93LoI/AAAAAAAAD_I/ccczQKoLYKM/s1600-h/100_5312.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206653681452658306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG_7-93LoI/AAAAAAAAD_I/ccczQKoLYKM/s400/100_5312.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG_8O93LpI/AAAAAAAAD_Q/Meancb_KhS4/s1600-h/100_5313.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206653685747625618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG_8O93LpI/AAAAAAAAD_Q/Meancb_KhS4/s400/100_5313.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt; Goofy Austin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we came home from the park, we had leftovers for dinner, and then we all headed to the waterslides for one last swim. I had promised the kids that I would go on the waterslide tonight. I was not impressed with getting cold. As anyone knows my favourite spot is the hot tub! Well, I couldn't renage on my promise, so at the end of the time I hit the slide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without using my noggin I decided to take Briton since I am an adult, afterall, and all the kids had been taking the little ones. So why couldn't I? I sat down in the slide and put Briton on my lap and off we went. It was great fun. I was never disputing that! It was the cold I loathe! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as I spin around the three loops, I am thinking of the cold entry at the bottom. A four foot drop into shocking cold water. Sure enough, I come around the corner holding Briton on my lap and I enter the pool. Now, the last time I was in a water slide (and all other times) the exit of the slide was into a shallow 6".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not so this time....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shot into the pool with toddler in arms. My feet shot out from under me and we both went down. We headed right for the bottom of the pool. I could feel Briton slipping in my arms and I knew we were both under water. I couldn't get him up until I got my feet back under me. I scrambled around trying to lift him up into the air. We both surfaced at the same time. He was just fine. All those times I have been splashing him and playing in the water, deliberately getting him very wet, has paid off. He was not impressed apparently, according to observers, but he was not yelling or crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we turned around and headed for shore, I could see everyone of our group standing all around the pool. Corrie told me they were just about to dive in and rescue us, as we were down for a long time. I think it was about 10 seconds. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The irony here is that I wouldn't use the waterslide, because I feel this need to have an eye on each of my children *all the time*. Then it turns out to be me that has the problem! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, after that, I said I would not take little ones again! LOL!! The children enjoyed sliding and giving me ideas on how to go faster or this way or that, and it was great fun. But my times of sliding with littles was over! I would leave that to the pros! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After our swim time we headed back to the room, packed up our stuff, and then had Corrie's kids over for one last movie: Alvin and the Chipmunks. Then off to bed because tomorrow we are heading to Banff for the day, and then on to Corrie's for a few more days of fun. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-1759609339177372567?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/1759609339177372567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=1759609339177372567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1759609339177372567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1759609339177372567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-12-calgary-heritage-park.html' title='Day 12 - Calgary Heritage Park'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEHEqe93L-I/AAAAAAAAEB4/88XpefZuPYY/s72-c/100_5255.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-4719047765929796570</id><published>2008-05-28T21:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T14:09:24.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 11 - Calgary Zoo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt; It has been fun staying in this hotel with our two families. It is hard to believe that our children have never met before; they get along so well and have so much fun together. Our rooms are across the hall from each other and everyone liberally pops back and forth. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, after breakfast, we headed out to the Calgary Zoo. As soon as we got in the doors Dane got us a wagon to pull the little guys and Corrie had her double stroller. The little ones had a ball seeing all the different animals. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206650417277513282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG89-93LkI/AAAAAAAAD-o/nBISMqU5Qgw/s400/100_5203.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Cassidy has a special spot for Tsega.  I was talking to him and Tsega was way ahead of us with her mum. He said to me, "I have to go. I need to look after Tsega." They are very sweet together. &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG89O93LiI/AAAAAAAAD-Y/0VGKc0V9kAY/s1600-h/100_5205.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206650404392611362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG89O93LiI/AAAAAAAAD-Y/0VGKc0V9kAY/s400/100_5205.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG89e93LjI/AAAAAAAAD-g/1D_nL7lEgYI/s1600-h/100_5204.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206650408687578674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG89e93LjI/AAAAAAAAD-g/1D_nL7lEgYI/s400/100_5204.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206650395802676754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG88u93LhI/AAAAAAAAD-Q/28MN-Q5pXnE/s400/100_5206.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206650387212742146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG88O93LgI/AAAAAAAAD-I/-0WCR4dj6rk/s400/100_5208.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG8WO93LbI/AAAAAAAAD9g/6AxAM9_LYj0/s1600-h/100_5212.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206649734377713074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG8WO93LbI/AAAAAAAAD9g/6AxAM9_LYj0/s400/100_5212.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG8XO93LcI/AAAAAAAAD9o/Ao8VpGNyFII/s1600-h/100_5214.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206649751557582274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG8XO93LcI/AAAAAAAAD9o/Ao8VpGNyFII/s400/100_5214.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG8Xe93LdI/AAAAAAAAD9w/x3kADdontqI/s1600-h/100_5216.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206649755852549586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG8Xe93LdI/AAAAAAAAD9w/x3kADdontqI/s400/100_5216.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Cool Dude Austin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Does the boy *ever* not pose?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG8X-93LeI/AAAAAAAAD94/f_42slqMzM4/s1600-h/100_5218.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206649764442484194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG8X-93LeI/AAAAAAAAD94/f_42slqMzM4/s400/100_5218.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I loved this because it is one of our little Gadisae's middle names. She is named for the African Savannah - and this is what this sign is for at the zoo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG8YO93LfI/AAAAAAAAD-A/RyD7YDWT4a0/s1600-h/100_5219.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206649768737451506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG8YO93LfI/AAAAAAAAD-A/RyD7YDWT4a0/s400/100_5219.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Our Three Little Ones&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG7ju93LWI/AAAAAAAAD84/UkiLLLsLX5A/s1600-h/100_5220.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206648866794319202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG7ju93LWI/AAAAAAAAD84/UkiLLLsLX5A/s400/100_5220.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG7kO93LXI/AAAAAAAAD9A/ZSvNFRFy5oI/s1600-h/100_5221.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206648875384253810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG7kO93LXI/AAAAAAAAD9A/ZSvNFRFy5oI/s400/100_5221.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG7ke93LYI/AAAAAAAAD9I/Qi4_rW0nRsM/s1600-h/100_5223.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206648879679221122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG7ke93LYI/AAAAAAAAD9I/Qi4_rW0nRsM/s400/100_5223.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG7k-93LZI/AAAAAAAAD9Q/3dWRzMWtWVg/s1600-h/100_5224.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206648888269155730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG7k-93LZI/AAAAAAAAD9Q/3dWRzMWtWVg/s400/100_5224.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt; I Wear My Sunglasses At Night...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG7lO93LaI/AAAAAAAAD9Y/LGLBwmRNgyE/s1600-h/100_5226.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206648892564123042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG7lO93LaI/AAAAAAAAD9Y/LGLBwmRNgyE/s400/100_5226.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Aren't They Cute!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was beat from all these days on the road, so when we were done at the Zoo we headed back to the hotel and I put my little ones to bed, and the big ones went over to Corrie's room to watch a movie. I vegged on my computer and the littles had their nap. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;After this we headed down to the smaller pool which is just below our room. It is a great kidney shaped pool with a hottub. Cooper and I worked on his swimming and he did fantastic with his swimming lessons. He is now able to float on his back, semi-float on his tummy, jump into the pool and get completely wet. Not bad for a few days swimming!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Briton and I played lots and I dunked him and pulled him back and forth through the water, and he got very comfortable with all the water splashing on his face. It won't be long before he is swimming!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Austin is happily swimming like a fish. He has been rather klutzy with his 'swimming', so today Caity taught him how to cup his hands when he takes strokes - much less splashing now. He is also learning to turn his head to the side to breathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I think we will work on taking private lessons when we get home, since they have learned so much in such a short time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After swimming we headed back upstairs and ordered pizza. Pizza party in our room! That was followed by me taking the older 7 kids to the waterslide for an hour of sliding, while Corrie put the babies to bed. Again, the little ones had a ball while the older ones gave them sliding rides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finished our night with coming back to our room and everyone (but Corrie and babies) got comfortable on the beds with pillows and popcorn, while we watched National Treasure 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are having a wonderful time visiting. I am ready for a 'holiday' - LOL! These kids have so much energy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-4719047765929796570?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/4719047765929796570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=4719047765929796570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/4719047765929796570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/4719047765929796570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-11-calgary-zoo.html' title='Day 11 - Calgary Zoo'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEG89-93LkI/AAAAAAAAD-o/nBISMqU5Qgw/s72-c/100_5203.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-2065572680306581711</id><published>2008-05-27T07:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T22:50:34.689-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 10 - Hanging Around</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should just mention that we have a room that is over the atrium. It has a little balcony on it that overlooks the interior pool. Very cool! But of course, having boys, the first thing the little ones did while out there was to pull up the chairs and stool and stand on them and nearly give me a heart attack!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206411153239387282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDjW-93LJI/AAAAAAAAD7Q/3LcPNWZ-4P0/s400/100_5231.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So new rules - no one goes out the front door; no one goes out the back door (without permission) and noone goes wild in the room (ie: jumping on beds and bouncing off walls). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206411170419256498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDjX-93LLI/AAAAAAAAD7g/pWQSu_oghlw/s400/100_5229.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206411161829321890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDjXe93LKI/AAAAAAAAD7Y/WebaD_hiR7I/s400/100_5230.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206411179009191106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDjYe93LMI/AAAAAAAAD7o/7obe6JvaHcY/s400/100_5175.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Night Time From Our Room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206411187599125714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDjY-93LNI/AAAAAAAAD7w/Y1DTo8GlDu0/s400/100_5176.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;This morning I was up first trying again to upload photos to my blog. For some strange reason I am having a problem bringing up photos to the blog. Very annoying considering I am doing a detailed journal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dane ran down to the car once we realized we had forgotten the spoons. We bought chocolate milk yesterday, instead of regular milk, so the kids willingly had chocolate milk in their cereal. They also had their little yoghurts and nutrigrain bars. Breakfast in the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206413184758918370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDlNO93LOI/AAAAAAAAD74/1j3Oth23M-Y/s400/100_5179.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;After breakfast, we headed to the mall to do some shopping. Here you see our helpful big brothers and sister holding the hands and carrying the little ones.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206413193348852978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDlNu93LPI/AAAAAAAAD8A/eTdcrv0xlj8/s400/100_5180.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, we went shopping instead of the the Zoo or Heritage Park. It was chilly today, and the next few days are supposed to warm up. Corrie found a vendor that did t-shirt prints in 15 minutes! So I got two tshirts for the girls. One for each of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say: Welcome to Canada, Gadisae (or Mesai) and then below that is our family picture holding their photos, and below that it says, Your Family Loves You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;We also got a tshirt made for the girls' mum. It has pictures of the girls, our house (their new home) and the family shot of our family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206413605665713458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDllu93LTI/AAAAAAAAD8g/Du-_E7AFLpA/s400/100_5193.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Cooper Making Sure Tsega Doesn't Get Lost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206413197643820290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDlN-93LQI/AAAAAAAAD8I/kie74ZJhbmY/s400/100_5182.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206413201938787602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDlOO93LRI/AAAAAAAAD8Q/Saok2EKcrMA/s400/100_5189.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206413210528722210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDlOu93LSI/AAAAAAAAD8Y/7qXmCCyBNJY/s400/100_5192.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Waiting, Waiting, Waiting for the T-Shirts to be Ready&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We came home from the mall and fed the children, and then put the little five to bed (and they all fell asleep) and then the older four went down to the Big Gusher Waterslide on their own. They are having a ball. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It is so wonderful because we are now at our fifth family of visiting and in each situation the children just got along like wildfire, right from the get-go. It has been a blessed journey for sure.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;8:00 pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;While the little ones were sleeping, the big ones came back because while Dane was going down the waterslide he cut his two middle fingers in a very nasty way. It wasn't deep; it was long (about 1 1/2 inches long) and shallow (about 1/2 cm wide and 1 mm deep). Nasty! Then he had more cuts on the other side and on another finger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I had to not study the finger too much, while I was trying to decide how to handle it. I knew it didn't need stitches. There was no skin to stitch! It had taken a strip off about 1/2cm wide! While swallowing many times to keep my stomach settled *grin*, I wrapped him up in bandaging and then sent him on his way. We later bought him waterproof bandaging and he was good to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, we headed to Superstore to buy 'stuff' to make for dinner. We headed back to our rooms and had dinner in our room. Roast chickens ripped apart with sharp knife and plastic forks, caesar salad, and then a semi frozen Grand Marnier cake. Corrie and I had a laugh at that one. The kids picked the cake and we didn't know what they picked til we got home. It was good, but we had to microwave it slightly to remove the frozen middle.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206413609960680770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDll-93LUI/AAAAAAAAD8o/-q5e2rS-fPo/s400/100_5196.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;After this Corrie put her little ones to bed, I put my little ones to tv, and the big ones all headed down to the waterslide for another couple hours of sliding. After the kids went to the pool I chatted with Ray on the phone. Briton wanted to talk, but by then Ray had hung up. So I handed him the phone and he commenced to talking to Ray for about 5 minutes - laughing and giggling the whole way through. Obviously, he has seen my handle my phone conversations in a similar manner! LOL!!  He had no idea Ray was not at the other end. It was too cute. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206413614255648082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDlmO93LVI/AAAAAAAAD8w/2jpU7qqgjI4/s400/100_5199.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tomorrow we are heading to Calgary Zoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-2065572680306581711?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/2065572680306581711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=2065572680306581711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/2065572680306581711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/2065572680306581711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-10-hanging-around.html' title='Day 10 - Hanging Around'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDjW-93LJI/AAAAAAAAD7Q/3LcPNWZ-4P0/s72-c/100_5231.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-3526516558142523135</id><published>2008-05-26T23:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T22:28:45.818-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 9 - Calgary and Meeting Corrie</title><content type='html'>Once we had seen the World's Largest Dinosaur we headed to WALMART. Yeah! Love that store. Try getting out without spending $300 though! I did find my new camera that I was wanting to buy for our trip to Africa. I am very happy to get that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then headed for a peek at the girls clothing and to get some food and snacks for our trip to Calgary. Once that was done, we stopped in at McDonald's for some lunch stuff. A tip on how to travel cheaply with kids. I didn't feel like buying buns to make lunch on the run and I wasn't going to spend $30 for lunch at McDonalds, so I did my 'trick'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ordered 10 of those little chicken sandwiches for the boys, plus an extra large fries and a pop for me. All the boys that wanted two sandwiches got them, plus a handful of fries, a water bottle and then for those that were hungry there were all the snacks I travel with: cheese and crackers, granola bars, puddings etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we put the order in at McDonalds it was funny because the cook came out front to see if there was a typo when she saw the TEN of one burger. *laugh* The cashier said they don't see big orders in their little store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From here we headed to Calgary. That was a slight adventure. The weather was lousy; at least it wasn't raining, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We saw a new oil rig getting put into the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206403860384918466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDcue93K8I/AAAAAAAAD5o/AoDT4gqYkxA/s400/100_5150.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;New Oil Rig&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDcue93K9I/AAAAAAAAD5w/4f2zXfakeb4/s1600-h/100_5151.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206403860384918482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDcue93K9I/AAAAAAAAD5w/4f2zXfakeb4/s400/100_5151.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; There was road construction happening so that slowed us down some. And then we were told to pull over because a big house was coming down the road on a truck. The guy told us it would be 1/2 hour before we could drive again! Oh man!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I remembered I had this adoption book I needed to read, so out it came and I settled in for a read, while the little ones slept and the older ones read their books. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a while, the truck came and we were off again. I followed all the signs to Calgary and then was 'within city limits' and realized I had better call someone. Calgary was bigger than I was expecting! Duh! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not wanting to take an exit and then have to figure out what road I was on and how to get back on it, I decided to pull off the road. I did so. It was a busy freeway and it was raining, so I pulled up the bank a little bit. I then called the hotel. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The guy asked me where I was. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huh? There is a ----- building on my left. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He didn't know where that was. What roads had I come in on?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you kidding? *laugh* I have driven 4000 km. Each of those roads has blurred into the previous one. All I did was follow signs for Calgary!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Okay, so he asks me if I saw Deertrail South. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I think I passed it about 2 km back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So he tells me to turn around and go back to it. Take a right and get on that road. After I am on that road I am to call him back and he will direct me to the hotel. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hang up the phone and get back on the freeway. I head in the same direction looking for an exit so I can turn around and head back. I suddenly see a sign that tells me I am *on* Deertrail South. Okay!! No wonder I thought I saw it. Some how I got on the road.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pull over and call the guy back. I tell him where I am and he says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Follow Deertrail South and then take a RIGHT onto Southland Drive. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I very carefully draw what he says and ever so carefully draw my arrow to the LEFT as I write: go RIGHT. Then I hang up and off I go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I make a mad dash to the LEFT through the gaps in traffic, as my oldest son says what I am doing doesn't make sense. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you mean it doesn't make sense?! The guy says go RIGHT. I am looking at my map and I am going.... LEFT!?!!! What? My map says right, but my arrow points left! Ooops!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I immediately look through my mirrors and make a mad dash back over to the REAL RIGHT! Just in time to get my exit! WHEWW!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I come off the exit I remember exactly what the guy said to me: Go EAST. Do NOT go West as it finishes as the freeway. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I very carefully read the signs and GO EAST. I cross the Freeway (ohh look, there goes IKEA!! - Kids say: NOOOOOOO!!!!! *grin*) and head EAST. As I am driving over this overpass and heading into cow country, I am thinking and saying, "Well, this is odd. This doesn't look like where you would find a hotel! Oh look. It says, "Proceed with Caution. Enter at your own risk." This can't be right!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I get to the end of this road I enter a restricted area, which is gated off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OKAY. *I* was the one that got the left and right mixed up. I did NOT get the East and West mixed up! Thankfully there is a guy exiting the lot as I pull up. I tell him where I am trying to go. He tells me to turn around and go through 3 traffic lights and then take a left and a right.&lt;br /&gt;Good enough. Thanks and off I go.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just a head of me the guy pulls off and waves me up. We pull up and he says, &lt;em&gt;"Actually, there are four lights. You turn at the fourth light." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay! Thanks and off we go, again. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He heads out ahead of me and as we pull up at the first light, the guy opens his window and waves us down. My oldest son and I have a little giggle and pull up. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yessssss????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy then explains why they say three lights instead of four. They don't actually call the first one a light, for some odd reason?! Hey, he says, &lt;em&gt;"Why don't I just show you the way. Follow me!" &lt;/em&gt;And off we go - him leading and us trying to keep up. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He pulls into our hotel, points to a parking spot for us, and then takes off. What a kind person! All for a stranger. I love people like that!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDcuu93K-I/AAAAAAAAD54/fV1n_QNSre0/s1600-h/100_5154.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206403864679885794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDcuu93K-I/AAAAAAAAD54/fV1n_QNSre0/s400/100_5154.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The nice guy's truck as he drove away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I pull in and park and then go in to pay for our room. As I am standing there, leaning on the counter I hear someone say something and I know in my mind I recognize this voice. But it is coming from the wrong place. It should be coming from the handset on the phone, as I have never heard Corrie speak to me anywhere but over the phone!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turn and there is Corrie. It was the funniest thing. I have only ever seen glimpses of her in photos and never in 3D *grin* and here she was like a drawing come to life! As I fully expected, our friendship that has developed over the last 7 months has filled in all gaps of our knowledge of each other. Meeting was simply putting a real face to the voice and letters that we have written for months! It was very natural and wonderful to finally meet!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We immediately got our rooms sorted out at the desk and then headed out. The funny thing was I was checking in today and Corrie was not supposed to arrive until tomorrow, so the chances of us both arriving at the check-in desk at the very same moment was unreal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We both unloaded our vans and then headed up to our rooms. We are across the hall from each other. The kids were very impressed with the hotel. It is a nice one and there is a small swimming pool in the one building and then a 'big gusher waterslide' in the other building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206402984211589954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDb7e93K0I/AAAAAAAAD40/f_rB5KF4Ed0/s400/100_5159.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDcu-93K_I/AAAAAAAAD6A/IkHh9AYfTKY/s1600-h/100_5156.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206403868974853106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDcu-93K_I/AAAAAAAAD6A/IkHh9AYfTKY/s400/100_5156.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDcvO93LAI/AAAAAAAAD6I/6ymdTpUymuo/s1600-h/100_5157.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206403873269820418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDcvO93LAI/AAAAAAAAD6I/6ymdTpUymuo/s400/100_5157.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as we had dumped our luggage in our rooms, we got the children dressed for swimming and then headed down to the little pool in our building. They had a wonderful time playing and getting to know each other for about 30 minutes, before we headed upstairs to Corrie's room for some room service pizza (that she sweetly ordered).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDb7-93K1I/AAAAAAAAD48/56mMOACOopE/s1600-h/100_5160.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206402992801524562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDb7-93K1I/AAAAAAAAD48/56mMOACOopE/s400/100_5160.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDb8O93K2I/AAAAAAAAD5E/1_iHdCKkWBA/s1600-h/100_5165.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206402997096491874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDb8O93K2I/AAAAAAAAD5E/1_iHdCKkWBA/s400/100_5165.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDb8u93K4I/AAAAAAAAD5Q/T5fBB7OFkyo/s1600-h/100_5166.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206403005686426498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDb8u93K4I/AAAAAAAAD5Q/T5fBB7OFkyo/s400/100_5166.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDb9O93K6I/AAAAAAAAD5c/gR10OAjdFck/s1600-h/100_5167.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206403014276361122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDb9O93K6I/AAAAAAAAD5c/gR10OAjdFck/s400/100_5167.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDbJ-93KwI/AAAAAAAAD4U/SjmLnJKFgjY/s1600-h/100_5168.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206402133808065282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDbJ-93KwI/AAAAAAAAD4U/SjmLnJKFgjY/s400/100_5168.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDbKO93KxI/AAAAAAAAD4c/Uua5-aLt4xU/s1600-h/100_5170.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206402138103032594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDbKO93KxI/AAAAAAAAD4c/Uua5-aLt4xU/s400/100_5170.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDbKe93KyI/AAAAAAAAD4k/SLDB0D8vSRk/s1600-h/100_5171.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206402142397999906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDbKe93KyI/AAAAAAAAD4k/SLDB0D8vSRk/s400/100_5171.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDbKu93KzI/AAAAAAAAD4s/deff0z2hXjQ/s1600-h/100_5174.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206402146692967218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDbKu93KzI/AAAAAAAAD4s/deff0z2hXjQ/s400/100_5174.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Hungry Little Swimmers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;After we had dinner we again headed down to the pool. This time we went to the big pool and let the kids have a ball!! We are so blessed with all these responsible older children. We started out letting the big kids use the slide and keeping the four little ones near us. Finally when we realized the big kids could bring the little ones down the slide because the water wasn't too deep, we let them take them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A blessing of having a big family. Corrie and I did not take our eyes off our children the whole time we were sitting there, but we were able to give each of our smaller children to a bigger brother or sister and let them take them down the waterslides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206407047250652178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDfn-93LBI/AAAAAAAAD6Q/duvAfUuLCiI/s400/100_5233.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206407541171891298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDgEu93LGI/AAAAAAAAD64/epAzXcH6ZrY/s400/100_5244.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206407545466858610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDgE-93LHI/AAAAAAAAD7A/0ZPf7oTpYrI/s400/100_5247.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206407549761825922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDgFO93LII/AAAAAAAAD7I/L63LGje8n60/s400/100_5253.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206407051545619490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDfoO93LCI/AAAAAAAAD6Y/RGnDKxIhLao/s400/100_5235.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206407064430521410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDfo-93LEI/AAAAAAAAD6o/4O-tWjKdLKo/s400/100_5240.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206407060135554098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDfou93LDI/AAAAAAAAD6g/S3RzyhM42Ac/s400/100_5239.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206407068725488722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDfpO93LFI/AAAAAAAAD6w/qOlOk53wleg/s400/100_5242.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This pool had a better slide and the littles had a ball coming down the slide in the arms of a sibling or friend and then being held up out of the water as they exited the slide. All the children had such a wonderful time!! As fast as the children came down the slides, they went back up again. It didn't matter whose brother or sister it was - each of the four older children just picked up a wandering/waiting little one and took them back down the slide. It was wonderful for everyone! We ended up being their for nearly 2 hours because of everyone's cooperation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we came back to our rooms we got the little ones to bed and then Corrie and I got together in our hotel room to read emails and chat. We have lots of time together planned cause we have four days in Calgary and then we are heading to their house for another four days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-3526516558142523135?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/3526516558142523135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=3526516558142523135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/3526516558142523135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/3526516558142523135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-9-calgary-and-meeting-corrie.html' title='Day 9 - Calgary and Meeting Corrie'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDcue93K8I/AAAAAAAAD5o/AoDT4gqYkxA/s72-c/100_5150.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-1881451641791701802</id><published>2008-05-26T22:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T21:42:08.689-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 9 - Reptile World &amp; World's Largest Dinosaur</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;YIPPEE!! I am back on line!! Well, at least the hotel gave me $65 back on my hotel bill, since I couldn't blog!! LOL!! And now I am at Corrie's dropping all the posts from the last few days. Enjoy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should mention that the boys loved Drumheller. It was a remarkable museum with tons to see and do. It was a beautifully kept place and we really could have spent so much more time there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning we slept in until the last possible moment. Until Cassidy woke me up to tell me that if we didn't get moving we would miss breakfast. We headed downstairs, had our fill of the great breakfast that this hotel has and then headed out for our field trips of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our first stop was Reptile World. We finally found this place in downtown Drumheller. The reptiles that were represented there were really neat to see. The unfortunate thing is the people that run that place sure don't keep it clean. Seriously, that place looked like they hadn't mopped or vacuumed it in a month! There was filth everywhere. Unbelieveable! I am sure it brings in a great number of people as there are over 90 reptiles represented there, and though the building is old it could look so much better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys did have the opportunity to hold a boa constrictor. Briton was very quick to step up and offer to hold the snake. Others weren't so forthcoming and politely allowed brothers to take their turn. Eventually, all did hold the snake. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206392556030995010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDSce93KkI/AAAAAAAAD20/dTQuZogY5-s/s400/100_5134.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Briton was not in the least bit scared. When the man offered him the snake he cheerfully and fearlessly held him around his shoulder!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206393204571056722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDTCO93KlI/AAAAAAAAD28/j-dW4ycE5cM/s400/100_5136.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206393217455958626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDTC-93KmI/AAAAAAAAD3E/bZZVI0H77Vc/s400/100_5135.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206393221750925938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDTDO93KnI/AAAAAAAAD3M/xC_PqQiLpUc/s400/100_5138.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206393226045893250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDTDe93KoI/AAAAAAAAD3U/6fIlXks_ZEo/s400/100_5137.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we left Reptile World we drove around looking for the Worlds Largest Dinosaur. This dinosaur is 86 feet tall and has 106 steps inside that you climb up to its mouth. We headed in and up and Briton made it to the top without any help from anyone. I tell you, that boy has certainly earned his 'stripes' on this trip. He is no longer a toddler (not that he was - but given he is my baby, he seems little) - he has moved on up in the world! He is a seasoned traveller, Hoo Doo clambourer, Dinosaur climber, Water Slider etc. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206393230340860562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDTDu93KpI/AAAAAAAAD3c/i0DrItgAwXM/s400/100_5139.jpg" border="0" /&gt;See the foot? Later you will see a picture of my kids on the foot and it will show you just how big this dinosaur is! Also, you will see a picture of the kids in the dinosaur's mouth.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206395300515097250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDU8O93KqI/AAAAAAAAD3k/_TuPKGiPJEA/s400/100_5140.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206395309105031858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDU8u93KrI/AAAAAAAAD3s/j4q1zG1rYT8/s400/100_5141.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206395313399999170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDU8-93KsI/AAAAAAAAD30/mVTOBJ8fftI/s400/100_5144.jpg" border="0" /&gt;In his mouth - 86 feet up in the air. It was a bit shaky so I left really quickly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206395321989933778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDU9e93KtI/AAAAAAAAD38/yy6Bw0HnuW0/s400/100_5145.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206395326284901090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDU9u93KuI/AAAAAAAAD4E/wE2HvPwo8Fs/s400/100_5147.jpg" border="0" /&gt;See how huge the foot was!?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-1881451641791701802?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/1881451641791701802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=1881451641791701802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1881451641791701802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1881451641791701802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-9-reptile-world-worlds-largest.html' title='Day 9 - Reptile World &amp; World&apos;s Largest Dinosaur'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SEDSce93KkI/AAAAAAAAD20/dTQuZogY5-s/s72-c/100_5134.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-8512088715775342317</id><published>2008-05-25T23:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T23:37:58.372-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 8 - Pool Time!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;As soon as we arrived back at the hotel we went down to the pool for a 45 minute swim.&lt;br /&gt;So now I will tell you of the 'pool episode' from last night. We arrived at the hotel looking forward to the boys all going on the waterslide, only to find they could not *all* go, as the waterslide dumped into the deeper end of the pool!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What to do? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I let the bigger boys use the slide and the younger three had to hang out with me, as they are not good swimmers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, Austin asked me if he couldn't 'please' go sliding? His idea was that Dane or Cassidy would help him when he came off of the slide. I decided to let them try this method. I suppose it worked just fine. I would just have rather had a waterslide that did not tip into the deep pool!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204569160889174194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpYE6vAiLI/AAAAAAAAD1w/ve3Fy9MfQVo/s400/100_5102.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Austin Shot Into the Pool - Cassidy Taking Flight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204569165184141506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpYFKvAiMI/AAAAAAAAD14/SKSoIIVyX80/s400/100_5103.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Brought Out By Two Brothers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204569173774076114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpYFqvAiNI/AAAAAAAAD2A/1z8bTZNrJwI/s400/100_5104.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Ready to Go Again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Austin gathered more courage as the time went by. I have found given that we live in an area where we do not have a public swimming pool and our children have to learn to swim in the lake, that they do not like to get their faces wet! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By taking our children to hotels when we can that have swimming pools and waterslides, this is how they have conquered this fear. It is odd to think of children who have learned to enjoy water, get their faces wet, swim, whatever, in hotel pools, versus town swimming pools. But that is exactly what our kids have had to do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is amazing how fast they can learn. On our last trip, which was to California, Austin basically learned to 'swim' in three days in a hotel pool. It is like their time is limited, so they understand they better learn quickly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204569148004272274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpYEKvAiJI/AAAAAAAAD1g/iNfJsh6aDQs/s400/100_5098.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204569156594206882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpYEqvAiKI/AAAAAAAAD1o/3uthjoUV2cA/s400/100_5099.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204568233176238146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpXO6vAiEI/AAAAAAAAD04/K0shO0S4OYA/s400/100_5105.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is Dane waiting for Austin to come down the slide, so that he can jump in and catch him. See the arm? That is Cassidy having just exited the slide. THAT child CAN swim. I just thought it was a curious picture with the arm up, as he enters the water. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpXPavAiFI/AAAAAAAAD1A/Ya5M14h__ZM/s1600-h/100_5106.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204568241766172754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpXPavAiFI/AAAAAAAAD1A/Ya5M14h__ZM/s400/100_5106.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is Dane still waiting patiently for Cooper, who is taking *forever* to come down the slide. He has decided he wants to try sliding and having Dane dive in and help him, also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpXQKvAiGI/AAAAAAAAD1I/AqJOzVCfVGg/s1600-h/100_5107.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204568254651074658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpXQKvAiGI/AAAAAAAAD1I/AqJOzVCfVGg/s400/100_5107.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; While Dane patiently waits for Cooper to slide down, Cooper walks down the stairs and tells Dane that he is *now* ready and would Dane please help him? Dane is ready to go. Let's Go!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpXQavAiHI/AAAAAAAAD1Q/OEMLv0OWvTk/s1600-h/100_5110.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204568258946041970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpXQavAiHI/AAAAAAAAD1Q/OEMLv0OWvTk/s400/100_5110.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Cooper slides down the slide and Dane dives in...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpXQqvAiII/AAAAAAAAD1Y/vuPxEHByfPs/s1600-h/100_5115.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204568263241009282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpXQqvAiII/AAAAAAAAD1Y/vuPxEHByfPs/s400/100_5115.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; .... and brings Cooper safely to the side of the pool. Cooper is ready to try it again. He loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpWQavAh_I/AAAAAAAAD0Q/BbnyC_sdnPg/s1600-h/100_5117.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204567159434414066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpWQavAh_I/AAAAAAAAD0Q/BbnyC_sdnPg/s400/100_5117.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Briton is curious what Cooper is doing. Cooper is practicing getting his whole face in the water. When he arrived at the pool yesterday, he had not had his face in a pool since last year. He did a lot of work tonight. He managed to not only get his face in the water, but he got comfortable jumping into the water and getting his whole face and body under the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpWQqvAiAI/AAAAAAAAD0Y/OLRNE-xeGek/s1600-h/100_5118.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204567163729381378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpWQqvAiAI/AAAAAAAAD0Y/OLRNE-xeGek/s400/100_5118.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Briton's Turn for a Little Swim Around &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Too Little For Waterslides.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpWQ6vAiBI/AAAAAAAAD0g/aAwRQvB5_t4/s1600-h/100_5120.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204567168024348690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpWQ6vAiBI/AAAAAAAAD0g/aAwRQvB5_t4/s400/100_5120.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is Cooper jumping high in the air, as he fearlessly jumps into the water. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204567172319316018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpWRKvAiDI/AAAAAAAAD0w/727QJq3lEfE/s400/100_5124.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;After the Jump In&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpWRKvAiCI/AAAAAAAAD0o/jxVx_iocPYU/s1600-h/100_5123.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204567172319316002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpWRKvAiCI/AAAAAAAAD0o/jxVx_iocPYU/s400/100_5123.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; Hey Little Buddy!! You can't come out here!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-8512088715775342317?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/8512088715775342317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=8512088715775342317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/8512088715775342317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/8512088715775342317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-8-pool-time.html' title='Day 8 - Pool Time!'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpYE6vAiLI/AAAAAAAAD1w/ve3Fy9MfQVo/s72-c/100_5102.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-6493815860225402238</id><published>2008-05-25T23:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T23:13:11.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 8 - Field Trip - Eleven Bridges of Wayne</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204565033425602514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpUUqvAh9I/AAAAAAAAD0A/sazWIdycAYw/s400/100_5084.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On our way back to our hotel, I took the boys to see the Eleven Bridges of Wayne. In a time span of *five* minutes we crossed *eleven* bridges! I would love to see a bird's eye view to see how many rivers we crossed, or if we crossed the same river multiple times! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204565037720569826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpUU6vAh-I/AAAAAAAAD0I/u1N1BigMhwg/s400/100_5097.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204564685533251490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpUAavAh6I/AAAAAAAADzo/YhMh1XB42EM/s400/100_5094.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204564689828218802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpUAqvAh7I/AAAAAAAADzw/YIMHWIoi3QY/s400/100_5095.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204564681238284178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpUAKvAh5I/AAAAAAAADzg/EJD1X9UYVLI/s400/100_5093.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204564694123186114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpUA6vAh8I/AAAAAAAADz4/ovHoQ1qTvyg/s400/100_5096.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204564676943316866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpT_6vAh4I/AAAAAAAADzY/IrS8UoCMgIc/s400/100_5092.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpTPqvAh3I/AAAAAAAADzQ/NBTFFSDj75o/s1600-h/100_5091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204563848014628722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpTPqvAh3I/AAAAAAAADzQ/NBTFFSDj75o/s400/100_5091.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204563843719661410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpTPavAh2I/AAAAAAAADzI/LPOmfe112VA/s400/100_5090.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204563839424694098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpTPKvAh1I/AAAAAAAADzA/UWMGcRNntOw/s400/100_5089.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204563835129726786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpTO6vAh0I/AAAAAAAADy4/YLLsxnBOXzo/s400/100_5086.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204563830834759474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpTOqvAhzI/AAAAAAAADyw/NZIOg1ONSKU/s400/100_5085.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-6493815860225402238?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/6493815860225402238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=6493815860225402238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/6493815860225402238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/6493815860225402238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-8-field-trip-eleven-bridges-of.html' title='Day 8 - Field Trip - Eleven Bridges of Wayne'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpUUqvAh9I/AAAAAAAAD0A/sazWIdycAYw/s72-c/100_5084.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-6830746749007112420</id><published>2008-05-25T22:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T22:59:54.308-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 8 - Atlas Coal Mines</title><content type='html'>Our second to last stop of the day (due to closing hours) was the Atlas Coal Mines. This was a mine that was in operation until not that many years ago. The boys got to get in a coal cart and feel what it felt like to be a coal miner going to work in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204561889509541650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpRdqvAhxI/AAAAAAAADyg/zcH3RPOMrnQ/s400/100_5063.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204561893804508962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpRd6vAhyI/AAAAAAAADyo/XMTPkmN9T1Q/s400/100_5064.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then did a tour of the coal mine building. Unfortunately, due to the late hour that we arrived we could not tour all the buildings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204559664716482242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpPcKvAhsI/AAAAAAAADx4/dqBXb5r6q7A/s400/100_5066.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpPcqvAhtI/AAAAAAAADyA/55U6UHcWp_0/s1600-h/100_5068.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204559673306416850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpPcqvAhtI/AAAAAAAADyA/55U6UHcWp_0/s400/100_5068.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is a conveyor belt that the coal travels up on. The men stand at the top and pick out debris, before it is sent out onto the next level, where it sorts it into large and fine coal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpPdKvAhuI/AAAAAAAADyI/jYjLkvffWmc/s1600-h/100_5071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204559681896351458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpPdKvAhuI/AAAAAAAADyI/jYjLkvffWmc/s400/100_5071.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is where the coal comes in from the outside. It comes down the conveyor belt and drops onto the mesh. The smaller pieces fall down through, and they are then sent through an even finer mesh, so they can sort it into various sizes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpPdavAhvI/AAAAAAAADyQ/MxVcFNgUxdw/s1600-h/100_5073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204559686191318770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpPdavAhvI/AAAAAAAADyQ/MxVcFNgUxdw/s400/100_5073.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The guys would come to this building to get their outfit. It is hung up high above and they have a little metal tag that they put by their hook, when they have gone to the mines. If they forget to put away their metal tag the compan would send out a search party to find the 'missing miner' in the mine. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The first time this happened they would lose a weeks pay. The second time they would be fired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpPd6vAhwI/AAAAAAAADyY/mP8HNQ29CaI/s1600-h/100_5074.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204559694781253378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpPd6vAhwI/AAAAAAAADyY/mP8HNQ29CaI/s400/100_5074.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;This is the shower. See all the taps on the ceiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did, however, get to see the wash house and the one where the batteries were stored. What was very cool was in the battery house there were Thomas Edison Storage Batteries. These are batteries that Thomas Edison worked so hard to create. He was trying to create an efficient electric car, but it was not efficient enough. The batteries ended up being used for other purposes, including these storage batteries which were used to recharge their lightbulbs that the miners used in the coal mines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204558732708578946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpOl6vAhoI/AAAAAAAADxY/CM3EASAo4gA/s400/100_5079.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;One of the Storage Batteries&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204558724118644338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpOlavAhnI/AAAAAAAADxQ/xdC6LOcSd3Y/s400/100_5078.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The advertised &lt;em&gt;Wild Fire Coal&lt;/em&gt; and told people it burned hotter and brighter than other coal. They painted on orange lead paint as it came through the machines and entered the coal wagon! This did help sell the coal faster. Other companies would put children's toys in the coal sacks as an incentive to get people to buy their products.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpOmavAhpI/AAAAAAAADxg/VhVKRGQB2wQ/s1600-h/100_5080.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204558741298513554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpOmavAhpI/AAAAAAAADxg/VhVKRGQB2wQ/s400/100_5080.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpOmqvAhqI/AAAAAAAADxo/SX471i2pZA0/s1600-h/100_5081.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204558745593480866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpOmqvAhqI/AAAAAAAADxo/SX471i2pZA0/s400/100_5081.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpOm6vAhrI/AAAAAAAADxw/P0aTVWH46MI/s1600-h/100_5077.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204558749888448178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpOm6vAhrI/AAAAAAAADxw/P0aTVWH46MI/s400/100_5077.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was funny. The man told us that this room was haunted and that people had seen 'things' in their developed pictures. The told how he had an encounter of his own. One day he was in the room talking and one of the wire baskets hanging up above his head had fallen and noone was there to touch it. Austin then pipes up and says, "I don't believe in ghosts. Maybe the wire holding the basket just broke and that made the basket fall."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man said Austin might be right, but it was fun to tell the ghost story. The boys are laughing here as he says this. Good for Austin for speaking up about what he believes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-6830746749007112420?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/6830746749007112420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=6830746749007112420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/6830746749007112420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/6830746749007112420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-8-atlas-coal-mines.html' title='Day 8 - Atlas Coal Mines'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpRdqvAhxI/AAAAAAAADyg/zcH3RPOMrnQ/s72-c/100_5063.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-7234699859385895531</id><published>2008-05-25T22:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T22:40:51.329-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 8 - Field Trip - Hoo Doos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpMx6vAhmI/AAAAAAAADxI/QP5QZCyQAPY/s1600-h/100_5043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204556739843753570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpMx6vAhmI/AAAAAAAADxI/QP5QZCyQAPY/s400/100_5043.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;From the Suspension Bridge we followed the signs to the Hoo Doos. These are the most spectacular formations made of sand and soil. They have been around for thousands of years.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys climbed all the way to just below the top of the hill. Even Briton was able to climb all the way up there. There is a tiny cave way up there. In the picture it is probably about an inch from the top. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't forget to click on the pictures to get them to enlarge for viewing purposes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204556731253818962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpMxavAhlI/AAAAAAAADxA/rGy4Ii_6ukw/s400/100_5045.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204555502893172226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLp6vAhgI/AAAAAAAADwY/sYYEkuCDPvg/s400/100_5046.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLqKvAhhI/AAAAAAAADwg/dm0UbaSpR7w/s1600-h/100_5047.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204555507188139538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLqKvAhhI/AAAAAAAADwg/dm0UbaSpR7w/s400/100_5047.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt; The Crevices We Climbed Through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLqavAhiI/AAAAAAAADwo/gJT-lV_xUpA/s1600-h/100_5049.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204555511483106850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLqavAhiI/AAAAAAAADwo/gJT-lV_xUpA/s400/100_5049.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt; Briton on His Way to the Cave and the Boys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLqqvAhjI/AAAAAAAADww/OTOTDa9JZXQ/s1600-h/100_5050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204555515778074162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLqqvAhjI/AAAAAAAADww/OTOTDa9JZXQ/s400/100_5050.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLrKvAhkI/AAAAAAAADw4/RP3lnq3oAHI/s1600-h/100_5052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204555524368008770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLrKvAhkI/AAAAAAAADw4/RP3lnq3oAHI/s400/100_5052.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;The View From Up Top&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204554819993372082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLCKvAhbI/AAAAAAAADvw/I08PwxMCYIA/s400/100_5056.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;The Boys in the Cave&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLCqvAhcI/AAAAAAAADv4/U623YN0Y62c/s1600-h/100_5058.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204554828583306690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLCqvAhcI/AAAAAAAADv4/U623YN0Y62c/s400/100_5058.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt; The Boys on the Way Down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLC6vAhdI/AAAAAAAADwA/xrXoSEjU2Fg/s1600-h/100_5059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204554832878274002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLC6vAhdI/AAAAAAAADwA/xrXoSEjU2Fg/s400/100_5059.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLDKvAheI/AAAAAAAADwI/p_O7LgcDHLk/s1600-h/100_5061.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204554837173241314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLDKvAheI/AAAAAAAADwI/p_O7LgcDHLk/s400/100_5061.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The cave is way up there by those tiny people. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLDavAhfI/AAAAAAAADwQ/Yzgt43XXVZQ/s1600-h/100_5062.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204554841468208626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpLDavAhfI/AAAAAAAADwQ/Yzgt43XXVZQ/s400/100_5062.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;The View From the Road &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-7234699859385895531?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/7234699859385895531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=7234699859385895531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/7234699859385895531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/7234699859385895531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-8-field-trip-hoo-doos.html' title='Day 8 - Field Trip - Hoo Doos'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpMx6vAhmI/AAAAAAAADxI/QP5QZCyQAPY/s72-c/100_5043.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-1707226258457785799</id><published>2008-05-25T21:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T22:24:52.699-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 8 - Field Trip - Suspension Bridge</title><content type='html'>After we left Drumheller I decided to take the kids on some field trips. These were planned for the next day, but since it was only 2:30, I knew I could possibly finish the extras today, and have a more relaxed day tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We first headed to the Suspension Bridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204551177861105058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpHuKvAhaI/AAAAAAAADvo/8t731afuBj0/s400/100_5041.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The boys all ran across it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204551169271170434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpHtqvAhYI/AAAAAAAADvY/urcbcdOwIHI/s400/100_5038.jpg" border="0" /&gt;All that is, except for Cassidy. He was so nervous. He walked slowly and carefully, holding onto the wire on the side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he crossed it. That is what matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204551173566137746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpHt6vAhZI/AAAAAAAADvg/9xtS15vQBNU/s400/100_5040.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When this child was a little boy he was scared of swings. And he conquered that fear. Last year, he didn't like rollercoasters at Disneyland. But he conquered those too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he came back across the bridge and his brothers gave him a hard time, I told him that he was the only one that had done anything difficult. He had taken on a fear and conquered it. He beamed. When next he scaled the Hoo Doos with as much agility and speed as the others, I could see he had put some of his fear of danger behind him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-1707226258457785799?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/1707226258457785799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=1707226258457785799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1707226258457785799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1707226258457785799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-8-field-trip-suspension-bridge.html' title='Day 8 - Field Trip - Suspension Bridge'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDpHuKvAhaI/AAAAAAAADvo/8t731afuBj0/s72-c/100_5041.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-1437825592449835062</id><published>2008-05-25T20:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T21:38:26.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 8 - Drumheller</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wow, I might get to bed before 12:00, 1:00, or 2:00 am tonight!! The boys got to bed by 8:30 tonight! Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning we slept in (sort of). We were up by 7:45 am and headed down to the dining room for a nice hot breakfast. The dining room was packed, so I found one chair for Briton, made him a waffle and got him some juice. Then someone left so I got Cooper a table. The older boys came downstairs a few minutes after me, as they were folding the laundry we had done the night before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They found tables and then helped me get breakfasts for the other two little boys. Soon everyone was done and we headed back upstairs for a few minutes rest and relaxation before we hit the road. Actually, I had to put down last nights blog story and was not willing to bring in more adventures til it was done!! I knew we had plenty of time to get all I wanted done today, so there was no harm in them watching a little tv for an hour, while I blogged!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once done, we headed out to the van and hit the road looking for the Royal Tyrell Museum. It would have been smart if I had asked for directions before I left. Actually I did, but my 15 year old son figured he had the answers. He didn't. So we ended up pulling into a gas station and getting directions. We finally figured it all out, found our way and began our next learning experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204539190607381826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo80avAhUI/AAAAAAAADu4/aNWXvuOaRnw/s400/100_4987.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo80qvAhVI/AAAAAAAADvA/qmMs4Y8YjlE/s1600-h/100_4991.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204539194902349138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo80qvAhVI/AAAAAAAADvA/qmMs4Y8YjlE/s400/100_4991.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Comparison of the little boys to a T Rex foot. Quite big!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo81KvAhWI/AAAAAAAADvI/RhFEV28KFZk/s1600-h/100_4996.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204539203492283746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo81KvAhWI/AAAAAAAADvI/RhFEV28KFZk/s400/100_4996.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo81avAhXI/AAAAAAAADvQ/NJ6gTHqQgsU/s1600-h/100_4997.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204539207787251058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo81avAhXI/AAAAAAAADvQ/NJ6gTHqQgsU/s400/100_4997.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is the lab where they work on the fossils that they find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204536746770990322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo6mKvAhPI/AAAAAAAADuQ/q1dZkg7TZOM/s400/100_5006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo6mavAhQI/AAAAAAAADuY/VJxoxm3to1U/s1600-h/100_5008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204536751065957634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo6mavAhQI/AAAAAAAADuY/VJxoxm3to1U/s400/100_5008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; See how big the T Rex head is compared to the boys? A man used the boys as models to compare with, also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo6mqvAhRI/AAAAAAAADug/BXWbT83KYqg/s1600-h/100_5011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204536755360924946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo6mqvAhRI/AAAAAAAADug/BXWbT83KYqg/s400/100_5011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Is this not just the most radical picture!!! I took this of the boys facing towards a beautiful water display that was behind glass. I am going to have to blow this up as it would look too cool framed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This next picture is so cute. We entered a display where the ground was glass and there was 'water' underneath. There were fish and other sea creatures there. I teased Briton when I stepped into the room with him and told him, "Don't get your feet wet." He then very carefully skirted the room on the edge of the wall. Even when he stepped onto the glass (away from the wall) he was very careful and you could see by his face that he thought he might get wet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo6nKvAhSI/AAAAAAAADuo/fZH1C_GajyM/s1600-h/100_5014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204536763950859554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo6nKvAhSI/AAAAAAAADuo/fZH1C_GajyM/s400/100_5014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Finally his sweet older brother rescued him and carried him through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo6navAhTI/AAAAAAAADuw/FVih9fNMk48/s1600-h/100_5015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204536768245826866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo6navAhTI/AAAAAAAADuw/FVih9fNMk48/s400/100_5015.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Briton's Buddy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204535299367011490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo5R6vAhKI/AAAAAAAADto/Gevn-1ye060/s400/100_5018.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo5SavAhLI/AAAAAAAADtw/uIgqW9h_bxM/s1600-h/100_5020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204535307956946098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo5SavAhLI/AAAAAAAADtw/uIgqW9h_bxM/s400/100_5020.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;We went through half of the exhibits and then at noon we stopped and had lunch in the cafeteria. After that we continued the exhibits until 2:00 pm when the boys were doing to do a fossil casting workshop. When we got to the meeting place and I put the paid bracelets on all the children the woman asked how old Briton was. I was *hoping* she wouldn't ask, as he is not four. I intended to make him a fossil if necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her he was three and she said he was too young to be in the lab. I then looked at her with a humble face *smile* and asked 'ever so nicely' if there was any chance I could just sit on the side with him, so the other kids could go in? She had just informed us that an adult would have to be present with children making casts. Problem! How could I be out with Briton and in with them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;They were *ever* so nice and broke the rules *just this once*. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;While the kids were waiting to go in, she asked them what their favourite dinosaur was. Each gave their answers. Smart little Briton knew that he couldn't answer the question verbally, so he got out his shopping back and pulled out his Tyrannasaurus Rex and showed her. She was impressed with it. *smile* &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;When the children went into the lab they started with a classroom session where they were taught all about fossils and how to make casts. They were each given a rubber cast of an actual fossil that is in the museum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo5SqvAhMI/AAAAAAAADt4/SenUn1g5qS0/s1600-h/100_5022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204535312251913410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo5SqvAhMI/AAAAAAAADt4/SenUn1g5qS0/s400/100_5022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I was amazed at how much two of those little boys knew about dinosaurs. Not really amazed, just impressed. It proves the point that I fully believe in: children will learn what they are passionate about. Therefore, follow their passions and interests and *feed* those interests! If you had listened to two of those little boys (one of about 7 and one about 11), they sounded like scientists. They kept that teacher hopping with questions and answers! And the seven year old was from Singapore, therefore English was not even his first language!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Briton then cooperatively sat on the sidelines while the boys worked hard on their fossils. He finally fell asleep before the class was over and I had to carry around this 32 pound lump for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo5S6vAhNI/AAAAAAAADuA/aPNUn3AEbMU/s1600-h/100_5026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204535316546880722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo5S6vAhNI/AAAAAAAADuA/aPNUn3AEbMU/s400/100_5026.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Funny Little Scrunchy Smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo5TavAhOI/AAAAAAAADuI/P1PLlCv2aos/s1600-h/100_5027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204535325136815330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo5TavAhOI/AAAAAAAADuI/P1PLlCv2aos/s400/100_5027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204534079596299346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo4K6vAhFI/AAAAAAAADtA/gcrYJtQvR98/s400/100_5028.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo4LavAhGI/AAAAAAAADtI/tU3GGYyEIkk/s1600-h/100_5029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204534088186233954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo4LavAhGI/AAAAAAAADtI/tU3GGYyEIkk/s400/100_5029.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo4LqvAhHI/AAAAAAAADtQ/0wKO5gQQcEs/s1600-h/100_5031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204534092481201266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo4LqvAhHI/AAAAAAAADtQ/0wKO5gQQcEs/s400/100_5031.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo4L6vAhII/AAAAAAAADtY/CGtdbw8y9Yo/s1600-h/100_5032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204534096776168578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo4L6vAhII/AAAAAAAADtY/CGtdbw8y9Yo/s400/100_5032.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo4MKvAhJI/AAAAAAAADtg/aBqC23_i-bM/s1600-h/100_5033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204534101071135890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo4MKvAhJI/AAAAAAAADtg/aBqC23_i-bM/s400/100_5033.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Pouring His Cast &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The rest of the day will follow in another post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-1437825592449835062?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/1437825592449835062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=1437825592449835062' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1437825592449835062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1437825592449835062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-8-drumheller.html' title='Day 8 - Drumheller'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDo80avAhUI/AAAAAAAADu4/aNWXvuOaRnw/s72-c/100_4987.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-3731038188007008240</id><published>2008-05-25T19:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T20:46:20.541-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 7 - Moose Jaw Tunnels</title><content type='html'>By 5:00 am Saturday morning the Saskatchewan sun was high in the sky. It was amazing how bright and sunny it was before a 'normal' time of day! It was radiant. Our friends said that Saskatchewan is the sunniest province.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After having breakfast and letting the kids play for a little longer, we hit the road. It was sad to say goodbye, but our friends say they will probably be in BC in the fall, so we are hopeful they will take us up on our offer and stay with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204519399398081586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoq0avAhDI/AAAAAAAADsw/Wo1PjZ1OD6c/s400/100_4944.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;A Modern Day Silo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoq06vAhEI/AAAAAAAADs4/Fi1e_cicnu8/s1600-h/100_4947.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204519407988016194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoq06vAhEI/AAAAAAAADs4/Fi1e_cicnu8/s400/100_4947.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It didn't take long for the little ones to fall asleep. They usually nap at home, and on this trip they are getting no naps, unless they are in the car. Plus they are up late every night. But I have to tell you, Briton and Cooper are amazing travellers!! We have travelled over 3000 km so far and they have been wonderful and cooperative and uncomplaining! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They have little to no entertainment in the car, other than the Adventures in Odyssey story tapes, a few movies they have watched and the Bible audio. This trip I just found it easier to not have 'stuff' in the car and you know what? I didn't need it. They have been content to travel light. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoqUavAg-I/AAAAAAAADsI/2VrocWb6Iss/s1600-h/100_4948.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204518849642267618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoqUavAg-I/AAAAAAAADsI/2VrocWb6Iss/s400/100_4948.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We headed directly to Moose Jaw to see the Underground Tunnels. When we were waiting for our tour to start the tour guide asked us questions about our family. We told them we have eight children (how nice is that to be able to say!). Later on she was asking all the people to say where they were from and I said our town. She then interrupted to say, "And she has eight children! How nice is that these days!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have to toot my children's horn *smile*. After the 50 minute tour was over she thanked us all for coming and said as we passed by, "I just marvel at how well behaved these children were!" So I am patting my boys on the back. It was a long walking tour with the tour guide doing all the talking, and the boys were as good as gold. It was hard for Briton to be silent the whole time, but he did a fine job of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoqUqvAg_I/AAAAAAAADsQ/sxm2qxUlBOY/s1600-h/100_4951.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204518853937234930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoqUqvAg_I/AAAAAAAADsQ/sxm2qxUlBOY/s400/100_4951.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The tunnel tours were great. It was amazing to hear the real history of the Chinese immigrants and how Canada exploited them. I am proud to see that Saskatchewan takes ownership for what our Canadian government did wrong and tells the Chinese story. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I hear stories of World War II and how Canada turned away Jews it stuns me. And that is a story that I have never heard that we have taken ownership and responsibility for. So it was refreshing to see the Tunnels and hear our 'fault' in this piece of history. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys really enjoyed the Al Capone story. It was interesting because when the gangster that was taking us through the tunnels held up a gun and asked us if we knew what it was, Dane quickly answered, "Chicago Typewriter." I was impressed! The guy then told Dane he was right (didn't show much surprise that Dane knew) and then proceeded to tell the group it was a 'Tommy Gun'. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dane was not impressed that the guy used a modern name for the gun, when it wasn't call that back in the 20s!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;So many times on this trip I wished Colt were with me. He studied Canadian history last year and this would have been the ultimate field trip for him, after he had read about the NWM Police, and the Railroad and the Chinese Immigrants, and Prohibition etc. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoqU6vAhAI/AAAAAAAADsY/QjAOc2ChTdI/s1600-h/100_4955.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204518858232202242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoqU6vAhAI/AAAAAAAADsY/QjAOc2ChTdI/s400/100_4955.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Flossie and the Boys (Al Capone tour)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoqVavAhBI/AAAAAAAADsg/XRJRi18L13E/s1600-h/100_4956.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204518866822136850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoqVavAhBI/AAAAAAAADsg/XRJRi18L13E/s400/100_4956.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Gus and the Boys (Al Capone tour)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;On our drive through town back to the freeway we saw the Saskatchewan Armoury. That was cool for Dane. We drove through the driveway and snapped a number of pictures. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204517986353841058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDopiKvAg6I/AAAAAAAADro/wfbJV8ydNBk/s400/100_4962.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204518875412071458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoqV6vAhCI/AAAAAAAADso/Y_L_m20Joco/s400/100_4957.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDophqvAg5I/AAAAAAAADrg/YNjZyjxY1ew/s1600-h/100_4961.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204517977763906450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDophqvAg5I/AAAAAAAADrg/YNjZyjxY1ew/s400/100_4961.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDopiqvAg7I/AAAAAAAADrw/I2Kwl1uMuIs/s1600-h/100_4963.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204517994943775666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDopiqvAg7I/AAAAAAAADrw/I2Kwl1uMuIs/s400/100_4963.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we left Moose Jaw we headed to Drumheller. I wasn't sure how far we would get because of the little ones. We initially left our friends at 10:30 in the morning, got to Moose Jaw to the tunnels at 12:00 and then left Moose Jaw at 2:30 pm. So we had driven 170 km in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew it was another 640 km to Drumheller and we weren't starting out until into the afternoon, so I wasn't sure about it. We started out and about an hour later the little ones fell asleep again. I was thankful to see them sleep for about two hours. They were so exhausted from all our travels, so this was great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During our drive to Drumheller, after Moose Jaw, we saw the strangest sights. I am sure there is a reasonable explanation for it, but to us it appeared that there was lime or snow all over the place. There was even a mountain of it. It filled the air, the horizon, floated on the grass, everything. Shortly after this area the ground and air became normal again. Strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dane joked, after I had sat on the side of the road taking pictures of this stuff, that it was radioactive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDopi6vAg8I/AAAAAAAADr4/WRXn0LPnqfA/s1600-h/100_4969.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204517999238742978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDopi6vAg8I/AAAAAAAADr4/WRXn0LPnqfA/s400/100_4969.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDopjKvAg9I/AAAAAAAADsA/0jU3Y2gxzU8/s1600-h/100_4973.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204518003533710290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDopjKvAg9I/AAAAAAAADsA/0jU3Y2gxzU8/s400/100_4973.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It turned out to be a great trip and we were able to make it right to Drumheller. I was hoping to do this so I could get two nights in one hotel and be able to run some laundry! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;These are some of the beautiful land formations that we found as we drove into the town of Drumheller. I am not sure how they are all formed. We were speculating if a flood could have caused all this, but who knows? Perhaps we will find out while we are here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoklavAg0I/AAAAAAAADq4/32h-_SjBUFc/s1600-h/100_4978.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204512544630276930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoklavAg0I/AAAAAAAADq4/32h-_SjBUFc/s400/100_4978.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDokmKvAg1I/AAAAAAAADrA/XZRNowlsdfQ/s1600-h/100_4982.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204512557515178834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDokmKvAg1I/AAAAAAAADrA/XZRNowlsdfQ/s400/100_4982.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We arrived in town having done our hotel research while on the road. We had found the two hotels that had waterslides and breakfast. I was already booked into a hotel for $139 with no waterslide or breakfast. I popped into the Super 8 to ask about their prices and was pleasantly surprised when she told me the room was $175, but she would give it to me for $149!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't tell her how good her deal was; I just took the room! It came with three double beds, so we didn't have to double up the little ones in a cot. Not that it made them wiggle and bug each other any less! (So I called and cancelled our other hotel.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We immediately dumped our bags, grabbed our bathing suites and headed for the waterslides (them) and hot tub (me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will tell you about those adventures in tomorrows blog, along with photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We threw in some laundry and then headed up to our room to order some pizza. Luckily for the boys &lt;strong&gt;Remember the Titans&lt;/strong&gt; was on tv, so they had a movie and pizza before falling asleep at nearly midnight - again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDokmavAg2I/AAAAAAAADrI/P5JnqEyG6NE/s1600-h/100_4984.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204512561810146146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDokmavAg2I/AAAAAAAADrI/P5JnqEyG6NE/s400/100_4984.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Relaxing With His Pizza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoknKvAg3I/AAAAAAAADrQ/cQHFjvuNX5k/s1600-h/100_4985.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204512574695048050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoknKvAg3I/AAAAAAAADrQ/cQHFjvuNX5k/s400/100_4985.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoknavAg4I/AAAAAAAADrY/CAczQXg1Puk/s1600-h/100_4986.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204512578990015362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoknavAg4I/AAAAAAAADrY/CAczQXg1Puk/s400/100_4986.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-3731038188007008240?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/3731038188007008240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=3731038188007008240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/3731038188007008240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/3731038188007008240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-7-moose-jaw-tunnels.html' title='Day 7 - Moose Jaw Tunnels'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDoq0avAhDI/AAAAAAAADsw/Wo1PjZ1OD6c/s72-c/100_4944.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-9076390086186536259</id><published>2008-05-25T00:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T08:42:02.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 6 - Old Friends</title><content type='html'>Our boys did not know that after the RCMP Heritage Site we would be visiting old friends. As we were packing the car they were asking if we were seeing any more friends, as we had stayed with two already. I made mention of not knowing any more people in Saskatchewan - and I was referring to adoptive families and Cassidy said, "There are the R's."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And I said, "Who know where they live!" And off we drove. Little did they know that I was driving to the R's house! *grin* They were thrilled to bits when a few miles from the house I told them we were going to visit these old homeschool friends who had moved out of our town one year ago!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John is an instructor/teacher at the RCMP Training Depot, so they hoped they might see him while we were there. It didn't cross their minds that I might plan a visit to their house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drive through Saskatchewan gave us many unusual views, beautiful sites, and learning experiences! I love the scenery!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204332370752209474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmAt6vAgkI/AAAAAAAADo4/YILgmT4TVHg/s400/100_4900.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The Road to the Home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204332379342144082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmAuavAglI/AAAAAAAADpA/UaYiKZ5Q79o/s400/100_4903.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The View From their Road&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204332387932078690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmAu6vAgmI/AAAAAAAADpI/e2uFWihZ6Qc/s400/100_4905.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;First Stop Trampoline&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204332392227046002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmAvKvAgnI/AAAAAAAADpQ/GCPlbFsZS14/s400/100_4906.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The weather was beautiful sunshine and very windy. It was a great day! It was a good day to barbeque hamburgers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204332400816980610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmAvqvAgoI/AAAAAAAADpY/QKwR9tfqCVU/s400/100_4908.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Meal Time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204334853243306722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmC-avAguI/AAAAAAAADqI/fG3EP5o0jhY/s400/100_4916.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204334866128208642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmC_KvAgwI/AAAAAAAADqY/LZW4d3vGGiI/s400/100_4925.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The boys quickly settled into playing with their friends, as if there had been no time apart. Of course, boys will be boys and so there was plenty of wrestling. I suppose that is a form of bonding? *smile*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204334857538274034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmC-qvAgvI/AAAAAAAADqQ/j3iJLHd1m6I/s400/100_4924.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204334879013110562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmC_6vAgyI/AAAAAAAADqo/w25lW6TgtU4/s400/100_4927.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And the little ones did great. Cooper and Maggie had a wonderful time playing dolls, while all the other kids curled up in blankets for a late night movie. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204338688649102130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmGdqvAgzI/AAAAAAAADqw/i4gwgxaxV2s/s400/100_4928.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204333646357496466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmB4KvAgpI/AAAAAAAADpg/QZ8aAAUl8FA/s400/100_4929.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Even the two littlest ones watched the movies, but Maggie and Cooper had their own fun being creative. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204333650652463778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmB4avAgqI/AAAAAAAADpo/Yed2vNwlktE/s400/100_4930.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;The wonderful thing about visiting our friends on this trip is the size of the families! Natasha has three, soon to be four. Sandi has four, soon to be six. Sharla has 5, soon to be seven. Mia has seven, soon to be eight. And Corrie has six, soon to be eight.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It is really amazing to spend time with families who really see the blessing of children. Yes, children are more work, but at the same time, they are so much blessings! Can you imagine the love and hugs and kisses you get from one child multiplied by 5, 6, 7, 8, or more children! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I should just mention, when you have more children it seems you just get more versatile!! Mia is having her baby on MONDAY and she was gracious enough to host us on Friday and Saturday!!  This will be baby number 8 for her and those are all biological babies! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When there are so many children there is always someone to play with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmB5KvAgrI/AAAAAAAADpw/sKf02NahtmA/s1600-h/100_4932.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204333663537365682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmB5KvAgrI/AAAAAAAADpw/sKf02NahtmA/s400/100_4932.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Our Two Beautiful Families (Missing Four Children)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Minus one new baby (Mia's),  and one 17 year old son, one 3 year old and one 4 year old (me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmB5avAgsI/AAAAAAAADp4/0l-7xct-Xi4/s1600-h/100_4935.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204333667832332994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmB5avAgsI/AAAAAAAADp4/0l-7xct-Xi4/s400/100_4935.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmB5qvAgtI/AAAAAAAADqA/_WbMp8_udkw/s1600-h/100_4940.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204333672127300306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmB5qvAgtI/AAAAAAAADqA/_WbMp8_udkw/s400/100_4940.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Our Friends Before Baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thanks guys for having us!! We so enjoyed the visit and can't wait til you come to our town this fall. Remember, you are staying with us!! Lots of room and imagine the fun the kids will have. By then we will have *sixteen* children between us!!!! Looking forward to it!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-9076390086186536259?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/9076390086186536259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=9076390086186536259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/9076390086186536259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/9076390086186536259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-6-old-friends.html' title='Day 6 - Old Friends'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDmAt6vAgkI/AAAAAAAADo4/YILgmT4TVHg/s72-c/100_4900.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-7609861046358998684</id><published>2008-05-25T00:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T01:16:54.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 6 - RCMP Video 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_view_player?p=5e9bf4c43c9cf0079c69d9" quality="high" scale="noscale" width="408" height="382" wmode="window" allowFullScreen="true" name="FLVPlayer" salign="LT" flashvars="&amp;p=5e9bf4c43c9cf0079c69d9&amp;skin_id=701&amp;host=http://www.onetruemedia.com" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="margin:0px;font:12px/13px verdana,arial,sans-serif;line-height:20px;padding-bottom:15px;width:408px;text-align:center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link?p=5e9bf4c43c9cf0079c69d9&amp;skin_id=701&amp;source=emplay" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link_image/5e9bf4c43c9cf0079c69d9/701.gif" style="border:0px;" width="408" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/landing?&amp;utm_source=emplay&amp;utm_medium=txt4" target="_blank" style="text-decoration:none;"&gt;Make an on-line slideshow at &lt;span style="text-decoration:underline;"&gt;www.OneTrueMedia.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing about this display was that the dog was so used to 'playing' with his handler that you can see he is not 'following the rules' and being very obedient. He is being like a naughty child. Normally German Shepherds are extremely obedient and when this dog is on the job he does what he is supposed to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a very good display and we learned a lot. The dog knows sign language, so when they have to apprehend a criminal his handler does not have to speak. He has also tracked a criminal for 27 km through deep snow (with his poor handler following)and successfully caught the criminal in *four* hours. This is one of the top records for a dog track.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-7609861046358998684?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/7609861046358998684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=7609861046358998684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/7609861046358998684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/7609861046358998684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-6-rcmp-video-2.html' title='Day 6 - RCMP Video 2'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-8755833867742140277</id><published>2008-05-25T00:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T00:31:37.103-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 6 - RCMP video</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_view_player?p=5e9b845a2300ca1c5ed1ca" quality="high" scale="noscale" width="408" height="382" wmode="window" allowFullScreen="true" name="FLVPlayer" salign="LT" flashvars="&amp;p=5e9b845a2300ca1c5ed1ca&amp;skin_id=1703&amp;host=http://www.onetruemedia.com" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="margin:0px;font:12px/13px verdana,arial,sans-serif;line-height:20px;padding-bottom:15px;width:408px;text-align:center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link?p=5e9b845a2300ca1c5ed1ca&amp;skin_id=1703&amp;source=emplay" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link_image/5e9b845a2300ca1c5ed1ca/1703.gif" style="border:0px;" width="408" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/landing?&amp;utm_source=emplay&amp;utm_medium=txt3" target="_blank" style="text-decoration:none;"&gt;Make video montages at &lt;span style="text-decoration:underline;"&gt;www.OneTrueMedia.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-8755833867742140277?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/8755833867742140277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=8755833867742140277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/8755833867742140277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/8755833867742140277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-6-rcmp-video.html' title='Day 6 - RCMP video'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-1730088802941172970</id><published>2008-05-24T22:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T00:14:03.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 6 - RCMP Training Academy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Note: If you click on the pictures you will be able to enlarge them. Unfortunately, not all of them seem to want to cooperate. But then you can see the details of the parade better. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;We had to be in Regina by 11:00 am today (Friday) as we were going to the RCMP Training Academy for a tour. This whole holiday, so far, is jam packed and I am also working on other people's schedules, or tour type open and close times, so we haven't hit a 'rest spot' yet. We are having lots of fun, but the time is just very busy!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204193450035019810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkCXqvAgCI/AAAAAAAADko/DpShbGsSGCQ/s400/100_4897.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;We got to the Academy in the nick of time for the 11:00 am tour of the Police Depot, as it is called. We learned so much while we were being taken around the grounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;To be an RCMP officer a person has to be 19 years of age, have a high school grade 12, speak English or French fluently, and be a Canadian citizen. But it is not easy to become a cadet. Only about 10% of the applicants get chosen to become RCMP cadets. There are so many cadets going through training that they have a graduation every week, and a new troop begins training every week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204192410652934034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkBbKvAf5I/AAAAAAAADjg/YO4DUi4Mtcg/s400/100_4820.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a memorial to all the fallen officers. Everytime a cadet passes this site they are required to stop and salute the memorial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The police officers start off as "Cadets". As they pass different levels they are given bits of their uniform. So when we saw guys and girls running or walking around in blue pants and runners we knew they were the lowest rung on the training ladder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204196228878860498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkE5avAgNI/AAAAAAAADmA/B_5dR_lAGAM/s400/100_4862.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Notice their running shoes?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204192419242868642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkBbqvAf6I/AAAAAAAADjo/ZjRkW8njlHY/s400/100_4823.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Mountie Boots Cadet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This cadet has now moved up to the level where he has his striped pants, plus his hat and Mountie boots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;If I remember correctly this is how the levels go: next they receive their black boots; then their blue pants with yellow stripe; then their Mountie brown boots; and finally their red serge Mountie coat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204196241763762418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkE6KvAgPI/AAAAAAAADmQ/98J9L8773Ms/s400/100_4865.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is a beautiful stained glass window in the chapel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204192427832803266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkBcKvAf8I/AAAAAAAADj4/DOVLiv8buyE/s400/100_4830.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;While we were on our tour we saw cadets absolutely everywhere. It was interesting to see that they do not 'walk' anywhere - they march. Below, they are marching to the Mess Hall for lunch. Notice they do not have a yellow stripe on their pants, but they do have the black boots. They are not the first level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204192423537835954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkBb6vAf7I/AAAAAAAADjw/eWLsA2QjQs0/s400/100_4828.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Marching to Mess Hall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys had a chance to meet two of the horses that are used in the Parade. These two horses were not used today; they were just their to meet the guests. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204204552525480482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkMd6vAgiI/AAAAAAAADoo/uGgL9kxTBpk/s400/100_4834.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204204548230513170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkMdqvAghI/AAAAAAAADog/BGgVEfCCXkU/s400/100_4833.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204192432127770578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkBcavAf9I/AAAAAAAADkA/EKDY8Pt43as/s400/100_4831.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;After we had met the horses and done the tour, there was going to be the noon parade. This was amazing! Talk about making you feel patriotic!!! These guys may not be in Afghanistan fighting for our country, but they are in Canada fighting to keep us safe! It was very moving to see so many officers marching and see and hear the musical band! Wow!! I wished I had my cam corder to record it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204204556820447794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkMeKvAgjI/AAAAAAAADow/oCgil1obhis/s400/100_4836.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204203337049735618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkLXKvAgcI/AAAAAAAADn4/tAi_9AvRaWo/s400/100_4838.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Cadet living quarters in the rear ground; Parade square in the foreground. All around the parade square there are two lines: one blue and one yellow. You *must not* cross this line. Ask me how I know? *laugh* This line represents the fallen officers, as after a battle? they lay all the officers in a row and then in a square. This is representative of this. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204203341344702930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkLXavAgdI/AAAAAAAADoA/24gSTEl4_mw/s400/100_4839.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;The Band&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204203345639670242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkLXqvAgeI/AAAAAAAADoI/iZb6GGS7ld8/s400/100_4840.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Yellow Stripe Cadets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204203349934637554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkLX6vAgfI/AAAAAAAADoQ/DVygYGIG_yE/s400/100_4842.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Plain Blue Pants with Black Boot Cadets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204199123686818162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkHh6vAgXI/AAAAAAAADnQ/h3hVgYzQ0HE/s400/100_4843.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;All Troops Lined Up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkHiavAgYI/AAAAAAAADnY/ofSnDNUXbx0/s1600-h/100_4844.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204199132276752770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkHiavAgYI/AAAAAAAADnY/ofSnDNUXbx0/s400/100_4844.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It was very hot, so Cooper is keeping his head from burning with my sweater.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkHiqvAgZI/AAAAAAAADng/25bdJWrMkWY/s1600-h/100_4849_00.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204199136571720082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkHiqvAgZI/AAAAAAAADng/25bdJWrMkWY/s400/100_4849_00.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This officer on the left is in charge of all the troops. This is the position in Cadets that our oldest son is working so hard to achieve. He and another cadet are neck and neck in the race to see who will achieve this RSM level of leadership this June!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkHi6vAgaI/AAAAAAAADno/8ple75_EaHM/s1600-h/100_4850.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204199140866687394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkHi6vAgaI/AAAAAAAADno/8ple75_EaHM/s400/100_4850.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkHjKvAgbI/AAAAAAAADnw/d2Fmbb1X6vw/s1600-h/100_4852.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204199145161654706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkHjKvAgbI/AAAAAAAADnw/d2Fmbb1X6vw/s400/100_4852.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I can't remember the name of this (RSM - if he were a cadet) in front. This is the position Colt is vying for in Cadets. It was really neat to see the RCMP cadets in troops and have Dane able to show me which position Colt holds right now: CSM - that means he is the Cadet in charge of a troop - he holds the position of Warrant right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204197427174736162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkF_KvAgSI/AAAAAAAADmo/SExf04yrZGE/s400/100_4853.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Officer in Charge of all Troops&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkF_qvAgTI/AAAAAAAADmw/-FLMXkW2cms/s1600-h/100_4855.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204197435764670770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkF_qvAgTI/AAAAAAAADmw/-FLMXkW2cms/s400/100_4855.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Heading Off Parade Square&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkF_6vAgUI/AAAAAAAADm4/CHQDTKdipkA/s1600-h/100_4856.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204197440059638082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkF_6vAgUI/AAAAAAAADm4/CHQDTKdipkA/s400/100_4856.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkGAavAgVI/AAAAAAAADnA/81psxjG1Tb8/s1600-h/100_4861.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204197448649572690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkGAavAgVI/AAAAAAAADnA/81psxjG1Tb8/s400/100_4861.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkGAqvAgWI/AAAAAAAADnI/XatQ0n66hLM/s1600-h/100_4860.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204197452944540002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkGAqvAgWI/AAAAAAAADnI/XatQ0n66hLM/s400/100_4860.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The man on the left is the officer in charge of *all* troops, and the other three officers are the men in charge of the individual troops we saw today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkE56vAgOI/AAAAAAAADmI/_eIQNxLhaN0/s1600-h/100_4864.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204196237468795106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkE56vAgOI/AAAAAAAADmI/_eIQNxLhaN0/s400/100_4864.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Below are some of the exhibits in the police heritage museum. It is a beautiful museum. The whole heritage site and tour was so worth seeing. We spent four hours there and needed more time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkE6avAgQI/AAAAAAAADmY/NHX1PUUKyOA/s1600-h/100_4875.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204196246058729730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkE6avAgQI/AAAAAAAADmY/NHX1PUUKyOA/s400/100_4875.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkE6qvAgRI/AAAAAAAADmg/AD0Gk0_qb9Q/s1600-h/100_4876.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204196250353697042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkE6qvAgRI/AAAAAAAADmg/AD0Gk0_qb9Q/s400/100_4876.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204194296143577154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkDI6vAgEI/AAAAAAAADk4/j8EaagMj8oo/s400/100_4887.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204194300438544466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkDJKvAgFI/AAAAAAAADlA/FUvqlPP9DHc/s400/100_4888.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkEBqvAgII/AAAAAAAADlY/3k3oZ_1nPUc/s1600-h/100_4877.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204195271101153410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkEBqvAgII/AAAAAAAADlY/3k3oZ_1nPUc/s400/100_4877.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we had done the tours we got to see a police dog demonstration and learn about the dogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkECqvAgLI/AAAAAAAADlw/p2VjyfKjRCM/s1600-h/100_4880.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204195288281022642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkECqvAgLI/AAAAAAAADlw/p2VjyfKjRCM/s400/100_4880.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkEC6vAgMI/AAAAAAAADl4/RFo2vi73JsQ/s1600-h/100_4882.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204195292575989954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkEC6vAgMI/AAAAAAAADl4/RFo2vi73JsQ/s400/100_4882.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkDIqvAgDI/AAAAAAAADkw/qOrqTytBhwk/s1600-h/100_4886.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204194291848609842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkDIqvAgDI/AAAAAAAADkw/qOrqTytBhwk/s400/100_4886.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a little fun with the boys after we had done all the tours. They took pictures in the Mountie uniform and as caricatures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkDJavAgGI/AAAAAAAADlI/Mx04ghhOtdc/s1600-h/100_4889.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204194304733511778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkDJavAgGI/AAAAAAAADlI/Mx04ghhOtdc/s400/100_4889.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204195283986055330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkECavAgKI/AAAAAAAADlo/DUGNRr1DQQU/s400/100_4879.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204195279691088018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkECKvAgJI/AAAAAAAADlg/e1q62PHHQ2Q/s400/100_4878.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204193428560183282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkCWavAf_I/AAAAAAAADkQ/yQ-snuJ6l38/s400/100_4892.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkDJqvAgHI/AAAAAAAADlQ/ybZkDPN6kgw/s1600-h/100_4890.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204194309028479090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkDJqvAgHI/AAAAAAAADlQ/ybZkDPN6kgw/s400/100_4890.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkCXKvAgAI/AAAAAAAADkY/L8P1vpXM2BA/s1600-h/100_4893.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204193441445085186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkCXKvAgAI/AAAAAAAADkY/L8P1vpXM2BA/s400/100_4893.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkCXavAgBI/AAAAAAAADkg/U97eWCLlR7U/s1600-h/100_4896.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204193445740052498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkCXavAgBI/AAAAAAAADkg/U97eWCLlR7U/s400/100_4896.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt; Cutie Patootie Constable B.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-1730088802941172970?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/1730088802941172970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=1730088802941172970' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1730088802941172970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1730088802941172970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-6-rcmp-training-academy-old-friends.html' title='Day 6 - RCMP Training Academy'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDkCXqvAgCI/AAAAAAAADko/DpShbGsSGCQ/s72-c/100_4897.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-8173967451063600951</id><published>2008-05-22T23:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T00:13:21.742-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 5 - Fort Battleford and Visiting Friends Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;This morning, we headed out relatively early. As usual, I made the same mistake and headed out without filling up on gas. When will I learn?! *laugh* We finally pulled into a gas station and Dane got out to pump the gas. Next thing I know he is rapping on my window to ask which kind of gas. I point it out to him and go back to what I was doing. Then he raps again. It isn't working. We look over at the store and see it is closed. We have a laugh at our idiocy and head on out on the freeway, hoping we find another *open* gas station before we run out of gas. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally we have our gas and head out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203457893935906402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZlYqvAfmI/AAAAAAAADhI/D3LrK3WbWxc/s400/100_4760.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;My Navigator - Marking the Map into the Unknown Areas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203457902525841010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZlZKvAfnI/AAAAAAAADhQ/29ofq-Z8ywc/s400/100_4761.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;The Chauffeur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I told Dane we were going to a little town named Saskatoon, so he was looking forever for it. I led him to believe we weren't going to *the* Saskatoon. They don't know where we are going so each step is a mystery and Dane keeps marking the map, as we travel into new territory. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Soon, the land changes and we are heading into prairie country. I find the prairies beautiful. Dane found them too flat. Then I pointed out all the designs on the fields and the colours. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203464241897570050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZrKKvAfwI/AAAAAAAADiY/uOvJ7WvLsuM/s400/100_4787.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203464246192537362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZrKavAfxI/AAAAAAAADig/zQt5QCvV87g/s400/100_4788.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203457906820808322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZlZavAfoI/AAAAAAAADhY/eY6DZP8PtKE/s400/100_4766.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we were driving along we have been listening to the Bible Experience. It is the most amazing rendition of the Bible. It is word for word, but it is done with a cast of 200 African American actors -well known names. We have listened all the way through the middle of Luke already. At the rate we are going we will be done the New Testament before we get home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I offered to change to Adventures in Odyssey, Dane said to leave it on the Bible. He was enthralled in the acting. So we have had very little tv - maybe two shows since we left home. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203457911115775634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZlZqvAfpI/AAAAAAAADhg/4DgbIlT0Pj4/s400/100_4768.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got to Battleford by lunchtime and we dropped into a town restaurant and waited to order. The little boys were fascinated that there were three police officers in the restaurant. When I told the kids I was ordering, "&lt;em&gt;Poutin&lt;/em&gt;e", they all had their own reaction:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Briton: "Ewwww butt eewww." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cassidy and Dane just looked at me like I was disgusting and Dane told me to keep it down. *grin*. They all thought I was joking - &lt;em&gt;poo -tine&lt;/em&gt;. *laugh*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When the food got there they quickly realized it was a real food (fries, gravy and melted cheese) and they liked it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After lunch, we headed to Fort Battleford. This is the museum of the beginning of the North West Mounted Police. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203461557543010018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZot6vAfuI/AAAAAAAADiI/YKkW6wxBZK8/s400/100_4779.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Police Captain's House&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203457915410742946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZlZ6vAfqI/AAAAAAAADho/UxteCsze9so/s400/100_4769.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203461561837977330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZouKvAfvI/AAAAAAAADiQ/4lGztjr3a4g/s400/100_4780.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The boys and and I waited around and then watched a rifle display.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203461540363140786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZos6vAfrI/AAAAAAAADhw/tqck7UiI0FQ/s400/100_4772.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We then went on a guided tour through the buildings. It was neat because she explained things and we were the only ones on the tour, so the kids could answer all the questions. At one point, we were in the telegraph office and we had just finished learning about telegraphs and inventors, so this brought this to life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203461548953075394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZotavAfsI/AAAAAAAADh4/rzW4vr8c7Iw/s400/100_4775.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We also got to watch them load a cannon with gun powder and shoot it off. It was very loud, even with our ears covered and they only used 1/8 of the powder they normally use. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203461553248042706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZotqvAftI/AAAAAAAADiA/muPtyx-riY4/s400/100_4778.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Prisoners in Guardhouse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;After we left Battleford, we headed to Saskatoon to meet Sandi and her family, and Natasha and her family. It didn't take us long to find Sandi's house. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203464250487504674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZrKqvAfyI/AAAAAAAADio/VFtDf3VUlyk/s400/100_4791.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203466174632853362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZs6qvAf3I/AAAAAAAADjQ/JnN13AhsfR4/s400/100_4813.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203466161747951442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZs56vAf1I/AAAAAAAADjA/VVfkd3gLEPI/s400/100_4809.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203466170337886050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZs6avAf2I/AAAAAAAADjI/sCV_53qrWds/s400/100_4812.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our children got along famously and we visited and had dinner. We talked lots about adoption - what else? It is all of our favourite topic!! It was so wonderful to see these friends in real life and take them from photos to moving people! It is so cool to get to meet the people we connect with and make new friendships. I think we could have kept talking all night! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203464254782471986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZrK6vAfzI/AAAAAAAADiw/rVkVsKArl4w/s400/100_4796.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203466178927820674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZs66vAf4I/AAAAAAAADjY/Azo6aVApBfw/s400/100_4815.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then we headed out. We headed to some local hotels, just to find them all booked. This first hotel we went to was fully booked, but he had the theme rooms available. I asked to see the rooms; they were cool. But they were $199 a night, with a discount. I decided to check out a few more. We did. The second one had no room, but she said the Best Western did. We headed there, got in line, and then found out the key machine was broken. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was *not* sitting around waiting for the maintenance guy to arrive and fix it. So we headed out. We decided to head back to the Thrift Inn. Not my favourite type of place to stay, but it was a bed and hopefully it was clean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I taught my son you can't judge a book or a hotel by its cover. The motel was full, but the very kind older lady called "Elsie" and asked if she had any beds. Sure enough, Elsie did. *grin* We headed towards Regina, and I hoped I was going in the right direction!!! I am notoriously bad with directions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speak a diretion and my mind turns to mush. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I found the motel and found I had overshot it and was 1/2 mile up the road heading in the wrong direction. I was NOT going back, so I backed up the half mile down the freeway! I wouldn't have done it except there was no one on the freeway. We got to the Travel Inn and found a sweet lady and I said, &lt;em&gt;Hello Elsie&lt;/em&gt;. Like we were old friends. *grin* She knew who I was. She gave us a room. I took the kids in, bathed the little ones, tucked two in end to end again, and that is the end of today!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Meanwhile, I sit here now uploading pics! If I don't then I am going to fall behind. *smile*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tomorrow we head for Regina and an old homeschool family friends. Our boys are going to be thrilled! On the way to their house we will be stopping at the RCMP Depot, where they train the police officers. We will be seeing the parade and touring the building. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh this is such a joke!! I am so screwed up time wise!!! I have no idea what time it is right now!! I was just looking at my clock on my computer. We got into our hotel room at 10:30 pm, according to the hotel clock. I know it was a while to get the kids to bed. I called Ray earlier, thinking it was 10:40 here - looking at my computer - therefore, it had to be 9:40 where he is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So just now, as I was shutting my computer down and it says 12:03 am, I know this is BC time. Therefore in Alberta it is 1:03, but we are one province over and as far as Dane told me, and did I question him? NO!! He told me it was one time zone over, and therefore it was now 2:03! YIKES!!! I just lost another hour of sleep. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or so I thought. Then I turned and looked at my room clock. It says 1:03!?! What? So I am guessing there was no time change passing from Alberta to Saskatchewan. Which means that I didn't arrive at Sandi's at 5:30 - it was 4:30. No big deal. Except my mind is going bonkers with not knowing what time it is! I am so confused!! LOL!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-8173967451063600951?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/8173967451063600951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=8173967451063600951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/8173967451063600951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/8173967451063600951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-5-fort-battleford-and-visiting.html' title='Day 5 - Fort Battleford and Visiting Friends Again'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZlYqvAfmI/AAAAAAAADhI/D3LrK3WbWxc/s72-c/100_4760.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-8134428790826276346</id><published>2008-05-22T23:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T00:13:42.544-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Visit Interrupted</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I am sitting here at midnight on Day 5 - *trying* to keep on top of this writing!!! Between being busy all day and then sitting up chatting til midnight with Sharla, it is really hard to find time to fit this blogging in! But I am determined - therefore, sit up to midnight and beyond, I will! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday we lounged around in the morning and then took the children to Chuck E. Cheese's for lunch. I planned this based on what I remembered from when I was a teen. Boy, was I disappointed! Things have certainly downsized from when that chain first opened! But the kids still had fun. They all got their cup of tokens and played video games, rode rides (the little ones) and then had pizza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Briton went on all the little rides and it was very sweet when he got on the Stuart Little ride. He immediately cuddled his chin right up to Stuart's chin in a hug. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203451906751495650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZf8KvAfeI/AAAAAAAADgI/ilKNT54Poz0/s400/100_4747.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;My Buddy Stuart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After that we went to Children's Place for their sale. Well, I got the sale, but the unfortunate thing is there were only 2 things on sale that I liked! The rest was wrong size, shape, colour etc. I did find a bunch I liked in the regular stuff. Talk about cute! It is weird when you have to buy *everything* - socks, underwears, pajamas, shorts, tshirts, dresses, playclothes, church clothes - *all at once*. Plus I was trying to buy into the fall where I could find it. Just enough to get us started. After that I am hoping I will luck out on hand-me-downs (to some degree). I will always love clothes and will want to buy some cute stuff, but hand-me-downs would be very helpful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That night after we got home, Sharla's husband Mark, very kindly took the older five boys out to see Narnia's Prince Caspian. This gave me and Sharla the evening to put the little ones to bed, so we could sit and chat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to tell you, we chatted and chatted and covered so many topics, but it sure feels like our visit was interrupted. There were so many topics that we were in the middle of, wanted to get to, needed to return to, and they all had to stop. It is odd living 8 hours from a friend. Actually, it is the story of my life!!!! One of my good friends lives in Ontario, one in Tennessee, one in Cranbrook - noone closer than 10 hours from me!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not talking of aquaintences or 'friends'. I am talking of people who *get me*. Who know me in and out. OR who are totally into the adoption world. That is a world unto itself! *smile* &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It just stinks that I keep making friends with people who live so far away! Now that I have made this roadtrip to connect with them all, *they* have to make the road trip to come our way and see our lives! :o)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before we left early this morning for our next stop, we took pictures of all the kids with "their" age buddy. It was neat how everyone paired up with someone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had a wonderful time and Sharla's family were such great hosts!! We can't wait to be able to reciprocate.... *smile* It was very fun taking a friendship from email to the 'real thing' and getting so much more than I imagined. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203451932521299490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZf9qvAfiI/AAAAAAAADgo/WPUOb065Fnk/s400/100_4753.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203451928226332178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZf9avAfhI/AAAAAAAADgg/4j2ysAJwY84/s400/100_4752.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203453074982600242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZhAKvAfjI/AAAAAAAADgw/bto27uptMVs/s400/100_4754.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203453079277567554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZhAavAfkI/AAAAAAAADg4/UWnhcjn3Ygc/s400/100_4755.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203451923931364866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZf9KvAfgI/AAAAAAAADgY/gvw-FueKkCU/s400/100_4751.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203453079277567570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZhAavAflI/AAAAAAAADhA/m6Hgo1XwjQ0/s400/100_4757.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203451919636397554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZf86vAffI/AAAAAAAADgQ/4ePQkihVynU/s400/100_4750.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-8134428790826276346?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/8134428790826276346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=8134428790826276346' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/8134428790826276346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/8134428790826276346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/visit-interrupted.html' title='A Visit Interrupted'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDZf8KvAfeI/AAAAAAAADgI/ilKNT54Poz0/s72-c/100_4747.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-9101669095400751961</id><published>2008-05-20T23:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T00:21:50.882-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3 - Galaxy Land and Waterslides and Shopping</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;We woke up to the most delicious smell of breakfast this morning! Sharla, apparenly likes to cook. I, on the other hand, like to feed my family. The two things do not always go hand in hand! *laugh* Perhaps if I had more time to spend enjoying cooking, I might.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;In the meantime, we had a wonderful breakfast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202717908702594418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPEX27IBXI/AAAAAAAADdI/WnyjnFnCoQk/s400/100_4699.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;9 of the 11 Children Are Present&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After breakfast, the boys played a game, the little ones all played, and Sharla and I sat gabbing again, filling in more spaces and learning more about each other. Talking shop on adoption. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;We then packed up and headed to West Edmonton Mall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202717912997561730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPEYG7IBYI/AAAAAAAADdQ/LNnagvYqGYA/s400/100_4700.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;There is One Child Missing in this Picture&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just imagine, next year, this group picture will have five more children in it, and there are only two families represented! Children *are* a blessing!! Yes, even when dealing with twos and teenagers! *grin*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202717917292529042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPEYW7IBZI/AAAAAAAADdY/k2gp7TV3FC8/s400/100_4703.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Two Little Buddies Holding Hands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Everytime we turned around these two little guys (who are about 6 months apart in age) were holding hands. Such good little friends, so quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202717925882463650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPEY27IBaI/AAAAAAAADdg/TEuYIgnEi3A/s400/100_4704.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These two were also chummy right away. It was very sweet to see their interaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202717934472398258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPEZW7IBbI/AAAAAAAADdo/q3_dA5yhAzg/s400/100_4705.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Six Little Fish in a Whale's Mouth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We dropped the four bigger boys off at the Wave Pool and then split with the younger six. That was amusing as we had 2 - 3 year olds, 2 - five year olds, and 1 six year old, and 1 very tiny nine year old. So they all looked pretty similar in size!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202721855777539730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPH9m7IBpI/AAAAAAAADfY/_aTbXqreKmw/s400/100_4726.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The big kids were thrilled to be given the privilege of being left alone. Originally I was not going to do the Wave Pool, as it didn't cross my mind at leaving the big kids and I didn't want to take 3 younger children with me. So this worked out well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;We headed to buy tickets for Galaxy Land and the little six had a blast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202720438438331922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPGrG7IBhI/AAAAAAAADeY/qfrY6lh3s58/s400/100_4707.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202720442733299234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPGrW7IBiI/AAAAAAAADeg/_nTzFp-b5-E/s400/100_4709.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202720447028266546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPGrm7IBjI/AAAAAAAADeo/FUCMX127dYo/s400/100_4711.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202720451323233858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPGr27IBkI/AAAAAAAADew/ZZ6HBYWxoqQ/s400/100_4712.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202720459913168466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPGsW7IBlI/AAAAAAAADe4/AK00WuXVKAA/s400/100_4714.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202721838597670498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPH8m7IBmI/AAAAAAAADfA/OAEddKDx8So/s400/100_4719.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;A Little Nervous of this Car&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202721847187605106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPH9G7IBnI/AAAAAAAADfI/Z6NKENNdLzs/s400/100_4720.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Now He Loves It!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202721851482572418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPH9W7IBoI/AAAAAAAADfQ/KjpNDmmlDmc/s400/100_4722.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202723590944327346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPJim7IBrI/AAAAAAAADfo/dMbuXG7S9mo/s400/100_4735.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202723599534261954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPJjG7IBsI/AAAAAAAADfw/-1Sq71_Riyk/s400/100_4737.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202723603829229266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPJjW7IBtI/AAAAAAAADf4/A9_DODIX1Tc/s400/100_4739.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202721860072507042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPH927IBqI/AAAAAAAADfg/Dxfj-e2w4E0/s400/100_4729.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Briton Just Inhaled His New York Fries.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The cutest thing was Gracie and Austin. At one point Sharla and I looked back at the kids to see that all the little ducks were following along. Austin looked at me with this coy look on his face. I saw that Gracie was holding his hand as they were walking along. It was so cute because Austin, as loving as he is, doesn't even really want to hold my hand in public. He is big you know! Nine years old!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The next thing we see is Austin has stopped and Gracie is hopping on his back. He then proceeds to walk through the mall with her. It was so cute! It was like - she the little girl wanted to hold bands; he the little boy was more comfortable hoisting her up on his back!! Too funny!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202723608124196578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPJjm7IBuI/AAAAAAAADgA/b5oTFSYTz8E/s400/grace+and+austin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Later that night, when Sharla was putting Gracie to bed she said to her mum, words to the effect of, "I'm not sure if I should tell you this." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;To which Sharla assured her she could tell her anything. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"I want to marry Austin." Sharla said she about melted when she said this. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Gracie then followed with, "Because he gave me bubble gum." At this point, Sharla hid a great big grin. How cute are little kids!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Back to the mall: About four hours after we had dropped the boys off, we went to the Wave Pool to try to find the boys. Unbelievably, we did, very quickly! We arranged with them that they could go get an icecream and we would go to one more store, before we took the little ones for their icecreams. Off they went. I am *sure* our boys were loving this independence. I figured they were hanging out with 'city savvy' kids. Sharla figured they had a fifteen year old along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No problem right? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We head to the icecream stand where we are to meet the boys, but they aren't there. We scout around and walk in different directions and finally we see the two oldest boys. Where are the younger ones? Oh, they decided they wanted to get some candy. Oh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sharla and I are kind of like: WHAT WERE YOU BOYS THINKING??? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We headed out looking for the boys and after a while, I am thinking 'lost boys' - where do we find in this mall? So big! She thens tells me that this mall is dangerous. A young girl was lured away last year, had terrible things done to her and then was brutally murdered. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Okay, so then we think - two eleven years olds who are NOT savvy! We stop, gather the children and pray! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We then head to the icerink. I go one way, Sharla goes another way, the older boys go a third way. I come around the ice rink and there they are! I immediatley say, Thank you, Lord! Wow, it could have been hours to find them!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So we head off to get icecream - for the younger ones - and then we head home! Big boys a little more somber. And younger ones duly chastised. Wake up call for kids and mums!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We drove home - Sharla told me how to get home, as she had to pick up someone. I told her I was useless with directions. She got home and I got there about twenty minutes after - I took the scenic route! LOL!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The big boys watched a neat Christian espionage movie, the little ones bathed and went to bed, and Sharla and I sat up gabbing some more. We have lots in common: love of books, love of decent movies, teens, and love of little ones!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-9101669095400751961?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/9101669095400751961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=9101669095400751961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/9101669095400751961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/9101669095400751961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-3-galaxy-land-and-waterslides-and.html' title='Day 3 - Galaxy Land and Waterslides and Shopping'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDPEX27IBXI/AAAAAAAADdI/WnyjnFnCoQk/s72-c/100_4699.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-1052709959831929279</id><published>2008-05-20T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T00:31:30.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2  - Sharla's and West Edmonton Mall</title><content type='html'>We woke relatively early and after a complimentary breakfast, hit the road. We had 2 hours to get to Edmonton and it was my goal to hit as many clothing stores as I could before I had to be at Sharla's for dinner! *smile*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to West Edmonton Mall and entered the store. I headed for the machine where all the big push strollers are. I was immediately approached by this man with a push stroller and he suggests that I just buy his, rather than wasting my time putting my money in. He even very graciously told me I could just push the 'change' button to get back my toonie I had already put in. How kind of him! *grin* I turned and handed him my six dollars, while my little red flag is going off, but I was too slow to figure it out. *laugh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I am walking through the mall I suddenly go, DUH! The guy just scooped six bucks! You know when you are at Save-On Food and someone offers to buy your cart or sell it, it all works out. My brain was thinking this was the same thing. Not! The guy just made six dollars I should have put in the machine. And then to add insult to injury *grin* (I am rather slow it seems!) about an hour later, the other light goes on and I realize it was all a set up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we had entered the store, I had seen this guy (older guy) sitting with a child cart and I remember thinking he seemed a bit unusual to have a child cart (older, no child, reading a newspaper). The guy had found the cart and then was making money off the found carts - from suckers like me!! LOL!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow we headed off. The boys were so excited to see everthing in the store and I kept telling them that we were clothes shopping today and that tomorrow we would be back to do the fun stuff. They were so obliging!!! We arrived at about 11:30 am and didn't leave until 5:00 pm and all we did was go through clothing shops and of course, eat lunch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202711006690149666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDO-GG7IBSI/AAAAAAAADcg/ue3cRMP9rLU/s400/100_4689.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Briton in his Well Paid for Cart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202711010985116978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDO-GW7IBTI/AAAAAAAADco/mZ9V-S5rzUY/s400/100_4690.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Admiring the Puppies in the Pet Store&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202711015280084290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDO-Gm7IBUI/AAAAAAAADcw/R5njThbTTt4/s400/100_4691.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;And of Course - Lunch!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found the most amazing little secret called Orchestra. With a name like that I might well have passed it by. But because I was drawn to the Please Mum sale in one area I was near the Orchestra store. Well, I left Please Mum with nothing - I had already bought a couple gorgeous sundresses at Gap and was looking for something 'different'. I didn't know what different looked like yet, but I knew I would know it when I found it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked in this store and could see immediately that it was *different*!! The clothes were unique and gorgeous!! I was sold. I ended up in there for about 1 hour or more! The owner's son (family run store) was so helpful; he opened last fall's boxes to find me anything that I might like for our girls for this fall. You see, I had seen their clothes and they were unique, but they were also all spring/summer clothes and I was really hoping to find some fall clothes. So he kindly offered to look in last falls boxes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the other saleslady just worked with me the whole time creating outfits and just giving me fashion advice. I got the cutest capri length jean shorts, with a hot pink top, and then under the capris there are these hot pink, turquoise, and white leggings! Oh too cute!! Makes me think of Pippi Longstocking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I got this unbelieveable dress!!!! It is turquiose and lime green, pinafore style with a green under longsleeved shirt, plus these green leggings and cool socks!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could post pictures but I can't!! I have to wait to show Corrie these clothes when I go visit her!! Gotta leave here dying to see them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there were these turquoise rainjackets with fleece lining. Oh, so cute!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, everything I got I got in duplicate. Yep, I look forward to dressing them in sets!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't be able to tell you the rest of what I bought, but trust me, cute city!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, these clothes are not Canadian, which is probably why they are so unique!! They are from France. You can see that they are not cookie cutter clothes - which sorry to say, but most of the kid's clothing stores seem to be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are looking for cute, yet modest clothes (and yes, they did have bootie shorts, which we did not buy *grin*), and very special girlish clothes that just say WOW, this is the store!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: I did end up back there the next day and spent another chunk of change, buying 2 pink cardigans, 2 white cardigans, 2 hot pink short skirts, 2 hot pink long pants. So worth it though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I will post pictures at some point, for my long distance friends. You MUST see these outfits. The manager told me if I take pictures of the girls in the outfits and send them to him they might make it into the newsletter. If they do then I would get a clothing dollar amount given to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as a 'preferred customer' (read: she spent a wad *grin*) I got 10% off the whole purchase, plus lots was on sale for 30% off. Today, I learned that their mother is over in France right now buying SHOES for their new shoe store. Another branch from the same designers. We are talking about leather, outstitched shoes!! Ohhhhh, I can't wait. I love nice shoes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, by the next day (tomorrow) I got Sharla there too!! LOL! She ended up buying two of the dresses that I bought, plus a few more outfits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I should mention (and I don't have a picture of this, though I should for the girl's lifebook), I really needed to be able to size the girls properly. At the Gap they were very impressed because I was able to tell them the girls centimetre height. I don't think it is normal to walk in and say, Can you help me? My child is 102 cm tall." Huh? LOL!! But they were pleased cause it made it easy to size the girls. They are about a size 4 and 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got to Orchestra though, their sizes were a little off and it was hard to guess or even go on holding the clothes up against Briton and Cooper - so we had to resort to trying them on again. It was quiet funny when Josiah (on Day 3) said in shock, "Are you buying that for Cooper?" We quickly reassured him that NO - and Cooper said quite loudly and proudly, (like as in - Don't you know??) "It's for MY SISTERS!!" LOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we finally finished shopping, we headed to the car and off to Sharla's we went. We didn't do too badly and got there about 40 minutes later. They were all outside on the trampoline when we arrived and Gracelyn quickly ran over to see us. The kids all clamboured out of the van and it didn't take long before they joined up and took off to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The big boys: Cassidy, Dane, Jonah and McKenzie took off to the forest to play Air Soft. You can imagine how happy our boys were as they don't get to do this very often!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The children immediatley hit it off. Cooper and Josiah linked up, Austin and Gracelyn, and then Briton and Eliana were both a little bit small to hook up, but they did play with the other younger ones really nicely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on, we put the little ones to bed and the four older boys all played a couple board games, while Sharla and I sat and got to know each other better. It was really fun. By midnight we finally hit the hay. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The four older boys really had a fun cause they got to put down mattresses and camp in the basement together! A real campout for guys. Sharla has an enormous house and is so welcoming. It is wonderful. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202711023870018898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDO-HG7IBVI/AAAAAAAADc4/pbX4zIPPXVI/s400/100_4697.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-1052709959831929279?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/1052709959831929279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=1052709959831929279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1052709959831929279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1052709959831929279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-2-sharlas-and-west-edmonton-mall.html' title='Day 2  - Sharla&apos;s and West Edmonton Mall'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDO-GG7IBSI/AAAAAAAADcg/ue3cRMP9rLU/s72-c/100_4689.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-326123615314032728</id><published>2008-05-18T23:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T23:57:35.039-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Road Trip - Day 1: Icefields - part 2</title><content type='html'>As I am sitting here typing and the kids are watching this movie, I suddenly realize it is NOT 10:30 - it is 11:30! That time change thingy again!! Caught me unawares! Off to bed, boys! Okay, finish the movie first - just a few minutes more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They very quickly and quietly settle to sleep - two in each bed - and I begin typing again. A few minutes after midnight I hear an alarm begin beeping. Kind of quiet - I listen very hard to see if my alarm is on low down quiet. Nope, don't think so. But I can't be sure. Where can it be coming from? I try all the switches to see if I can turn it OFF. Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suddenly I realize it is coming from next door. But it has been beeping now for five minutes. Obviously they are in a stupor. So I thump on the wall. No response. Thump, thump, thump again. No response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But now I have woken a sleepy teenager. "I was just falling asleep," he groans. He tells me it is my alarm. No it isn't, I tell him. His brother wakes up beside him. Then the little guy who has just broken into a cold (great timing!) wakes up. Aiy yigh yigh!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I call the front desk and tell them I think the neighbour's alarm clock is going off. She fixes the problem, I settle the children, and I resume typing. Gotta keep my hubby and son up to date on the home front!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So where was I?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right, the Icefields. We got on the bus and headed out. The first bus took us through an 8 minute ride and then stopped. It could only take us on a road that was paved for so long and then it was gravel. Why? Cause the road shifts 3 feet a year!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We get on the Snow Explorer and take off. What a cool ride. We hit bumps and it is like being on a marshmallow. The tires are super soft so they don't dent the glacier. They go down a hill that is a 32% grade!!! WOW! It was like being on a fair ride! There is something in the engine that causes the vehicle to hold itself back. He doesn't even have to touch the brake. His foot was on the floor the whole time going down - it controls itself. Very powerful! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We rode through water at the bottom, so that the wheels were spotless so that there was no dirt taken to the icefield. Any drop of dirt will attract the sun and then it will cause melting in that spot. It was kind of creepy cause as I was walking around I could see these black clear like spots and I wondered if this was a 'soft spot'. Very freaky!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201970116241654786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEcQm7IBAI/AAAAAAAADaQ/wjPhCHfXV8k/s400/100_4647.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we got out of the bus the ice was very slushy and we immediately got a bit wet. Some people, namely little people who were with big brothers, got very wet feet, before Mum came along and scooped the littlest up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We climbed up to the area we were to see and were told to be careful of 'soft spots'. ZING - a lady beside disappeared up to her upper leg!! Whoa! Freaky!!! I was so careful. I had heard stories of crevaces and didn't want any of us disappearing down one!! *laugh*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, apparently, those soft spots are not crevaces, but just soft snow. But that was too much for me. How do *you* know how far down you are going to go before you stop? Some people dropped to their upper thighs!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The ice where we were standing was 3000 feet deep!! Can you imagine!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201970107651720162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEcQG7IA-I/AAAAAAAADaA/HJ-hCVmbCdo/s400/100_4643.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The glaciers are creeping forward down the mountains and you can see them sitting on the top of the mountain. It is an amazing site. The glacier is hanging directly above the boys head in the above picture. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201970103356752850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEcP27IA9I/AAAAAAAADZ4/lNr0Ha6wLHA/s400/100_4642.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This stream of water is on the side of the road. Because winter is just over, there is so much snow on the glacier - they get 30 feet in the winter!! But as spring is happening, it is starting to thaw. As it thaws, the water trickles, streams down the side of the road. As you can see it is a beautiful blue colour. Apparently, the lower down you go, the bluer it becomes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201970111946687474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEcQW7IA_I/AAAAAAAADaI/3orUhMLPCKs/s400/100_4645.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201970120536622098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEcQ27IBBI/AAAAAAAADaY/1FGAkD1vX4M/s400/100_4648.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Right in front of the boys in these two above pictures there is a huge glacier. It is like two shelves. If the boys walked forward about 1/2 km they would be in danger of falling into crevaces that are 300 - 400 feet deep!! And these crevaces open and close as the glacier moves, so there would be no hope of them getting out before they froze to death! Whoa!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201971859998376994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEd2G7IBCI/AAAAAAAADag/f4n-v6KiV2E/s400/100_4650.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201971868588311602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEd2m7IBDI/AAAAAAAADao/Mkhg-atC5oo/s400/100_4651.jpg" border="0" /&gt; I didn't mention this before, but as we were heading down highway 93, I saw a sign that said the next gas would be in 126 km. I looked at my tank and saw it was over half way and tossed around the idea of going back to Jasper. I didn't go back and headed out, thinking the whole way if I had made a mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;As I got closer to the Icefields (and after coasting when I could) I could see I was going to be at risk if I tried to get back to Jasper on the same tank of gas. So after we did our tour we had to head another 53 km in the *wrong* direction to get gas. How frustrating. But God is good. I tell you, I prayed to make it go fast, and it flew. Before I knew it I had gas and was on my way back. We lost about 1 hour that way, plus the ridiculous hour I lost to the time change. Talk about feeling gypped!! *laugh*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201974196460586162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEf-G7IBLI/AAAAAAAADbo/5y-itQ36rW4/s400/100_4667.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201974205050520786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEf-m7IBNI/AAAAAAAADb4/Y7mjSWI7g-Q/s400/100_4671.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are pictures of our drive out of Jasper Park. And this is my navigator, Dane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201974192165618850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEf927IBKI/AAAAAAAADbg/GdgAnteu8XE/s400/100_4665.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we drove through the Jasper Parkway again, we began seeing these signs:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201973230092944450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEfF27IBEI/AAAAAAAADaw/bYwpl3u7e-M/s400/100_4654.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201973234387911762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEfGG7IBFI/AAAAAAAADa4/y1p1Wtld6D4/s400/100_4657.jpg" border="0" /&gt; And immediately after, we would see the animals it was telling us to be cautious of. Dane was so thrilled. He had a magazine that showed us the animals we might see in the park, and he assured us we had seen most of the big ones!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201974200755553474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEf-W7IBMI/AAAAAAAADbw/pEQAc_Faa1E/s400/100_4670.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201973238682879074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEfGW7IBGI/AAAAAAAADbA/4yPK3pDkKvU/s400/100_4659.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201973242977846386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEfGm7IBHI/AAAAAAAADbI/q5fqxwHL1Eo/s400/100_4661.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201977074088674546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEilm7IBPI/AAAAAAAADcI/kkLbWtQdAeU/s400/100_4677.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201974183575684242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEf9W7IBJI/AAAAAAAADbY/BFZosnkyXy0/s400/100_4664.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201973247272813698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEfG27IBII/AAAAAAAADbQ/_C7B3n5rIzo/s400/100_4663.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The following picture was the most amazing. We were driving along and then saw all these cars pulled over. We knew it had to be animals again, so I quickly pulled in and then looked out. I could see nothing. Everyone was looking *way* up the rock face - about 40-50 feet up. Way up there on sheer vertical edges with only little lips to jump from and to, were a handful of small mountain goats! They were so neat to watch!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201977069793707234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEilW7IBOI/AAAAAAAADcA/YetmlAcMSUc/s400/100_4674.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And then there were my children - traveling so nicely! We left home at 6:20 am and got into our stop in Edson, Alberta, at 9:00 pm. They all did so well. Only Briton got a little upset at the end of the journey. But who can fault the little guy - he has the beginning of a cold and doesn't feel so good, plus having to sit in one of those nasty car seats all day!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201977078383641858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEil27IBQI/AAAAAAAADcQ/Aafqzduy5sw/s400/100_4680.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Boys in the backseat are enjoying their turn on the car tv.  And then we quickly found a nice hotel to stay in: managed to get all five boys in one room, free cot, free breakfast, clean room, clean bathroom. Nice place! All for $107, including tax! Can't beat that!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201977082678609170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEimG7IBRI/AAAAAAAADcY/xqKAGmqzrEk/s400/100_4683.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We got into our hotel, ordered in the special pizza from the pizza place, relaxed, bathed the little ones, blogged. And now here they all are crashed out from their busy day! See you tomorrow with tomorrows adventures!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-326123615314032728?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/326123615314032728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=326123615314032728' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/326123615314032728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/326123615314032728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/road-trip-day-1-icefields-part-2.html' title='Road Trip - Day 1: Icefields - part 2'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEcQm7IBAI/AAAAAAAADaQ/wjPhCHfXV8k/s72-c/100_4647.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-2567854453799737776</id><published>2008-05-18T21:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T22:53:22.594-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Road Trip Day 1: Home to Columbia Icefields Pt 1</title><content type='html'>It is 10:00 pm on our first day of the Rambling Road Trip - Western Provinces. Two little ones are asleep, toe to toe, in a cot, and three are watching a movie on Family Channel. We got into our first stop at 9:00 pm tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Backing up here. Last night, I finally got to bed at 1:00 am. After getting the new that our court date was successful the day before, I was thrown. I suddenly had so much more to do. I had to prepare packages to mail to the girls, while we are on our trip and many other small jobs, being as I am gone for the next 2.5 weeks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 4:45 am I was woken feeling restless. Knowing I was intending on getting up at 5:45 anyway and the day was already getting bright, I felt compelled to get up and start hustling. We always pack a good basket of foods to save eating take-out on the road. We usually take cereals, snacks, fruit, and buns. Then we eat a make-do breakfast on the road, stop by the side of the road later to make meat and cheese buns. This saves us a fortune! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It didn't take me long to get the kids up, dressed and then they popped in and gave their daddy a goodbye hug, before we hit the road at 6:20am. I like to start early before the sun is up and I have the road to myself!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201951536213131922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDELXG7IApI/AAAAAAAADXY/JwUruXf5DMc/s400/100_4603.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Packed and Ready to Go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;After getting my necessary Large Decaf Mocha from Tim Horton's, we were on our way. The day was bright with a hint of yesterday's heat still hanging over the early morning hours. It looked to be a great start!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Before long we were approaching the sign for Mount Robson and Dane called out that we needed to stop and get a picture. Well, Mr. Summer Boy, was already stripped down to his shorts, and Briton had no shoes on - but, what the hey! Out they all jumped and obliged me with a pose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201951540508099234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDELXW7IAqI/AAAAAAAADXg/pyCxfAQefjY/s400/100_4605.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Before long, we were crossing the Alberta border, and Cassidy said to me, "I didn't know we were going to a different state." STATE? Are we American? *laugh* Yep, we are going to a different province. I have not told the kids what is happening on this trip, so everything is a surprise. Austin asked me if we were heading out to visit Cousin John and Margaret. Nope, they live in California. Time to get those kids a map, so they can follow along!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201951561982935746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDELYm7IAsI/AAAAAAAADXw/cuNgFXxAGhA/s400/100_4608.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;What follows are some of the amazing pictures of the Rocky Mountains. We made a turn onto the Jasper Parkway. The boys did not know we were heading for the Columbia Icefields. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201951553393001138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDELYG7IArI/AAAAAAAADXo/iaR_-51lQJI/s400/100_4606.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201953206955410194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEM4W7IAxI/AAAAAAAADYY/86elpdwK4Gk/s400/100_4622.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201953215545344802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEM427IAyI/AAAAAAAADYg/EjXs7o7kgOQ/s400/100_4624.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A short while later, we saw a number of vehicles parked on the side of the road. Slowing down to see what they were looking at, I cried out, "Camera! Get my camera. Quick!" We are used to wild animals taking off when they see people, but the animals in the Jasper Parkway seem very accustomed to people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201953155415802594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEM1W7IAuI/AAAAAAAADYA/ByXrqql0ZRM/s400/100_4612.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;A Skinny Little Bear Out of Hibernation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was just the first of many animal shots where I was able to get within 15 feet of the animals! And it was not because of a good zoom. My camera only has 3x zoom on it! The boys were amazed at all the animals they saw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201953164005737202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEM127IAvI/AAAAAAAADYI/6nTeRTOsbC8/s400/100_4617.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Out of nowhere, we suddenly saw this animal on the side of the road. I stopped my car quickly on the side and then crept up slowly. I was pleased to see that it did not mind how close I got. I was then able to get out the window and take some neat shots!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got very good at pulling my van to a quick halt on the road, straddling the edge of the road, double-parking, or sliding up beside another car, to get the best shots. What I noticed was how cooperative everyone was. I guess there were so many tourists out doing the same thing we were, so they displayed patience! Because of this we were able to get a lot of amazing pictures!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201957166915257154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEQe27IA0I/AAAAAAAADYw/3fTzpyBy47o/s400/100_4626.jpg" border="0" /&gt;We pulled over here and Dane took this shot. He was learning how to frame pictures and not just 'shoot'. While he was out of the car, he noticed how incredibly steep the 1000' drop was! Following is a shot looking down from this mountain-side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201957179800159058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEQfm7IA1I/AAAAAAAADY4/6o4SHo7Xk8k/s400/100_4629.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Ludicrous Drop!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201957162620289842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEQem7IAzI/AAAAAAAADYo/2MC-aQ7FbSE/s400/100_4625.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is an incredible waterfall we saw on the way down Highway 93. When we got to the Icefields, the first thing the boys noticed were these amazing Snow Explorers, with 5' wheels! "OH, cool!! I'd like to go on those!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201957188390093666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEQgG7IA2I/AAAAAAAADZA/0H42jpQ5xXw/s400/100_4630.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201957192685060978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEQgW7IA3I/AAAAAAAADZI/PdDrY2Ouehg/s400/100_4631.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*That's* why I love to keep the events a secret. I told the boys we were doing a lunch stop. They had no idea we were stopping for a ride. They watched the large city buses taking people up the mountain and figured the Snow Explorers were not being used. What they didn't know was that there are only 23 of these machines in the world and 22 of them belong to this company. The United States Government owns the 23rd one. Isn't that something! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What they didn't yet know, was that they were going to ride one of those coaches up the mountain for eight minutes and then embark on one of the Snow Explorers out on the Icefields.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After we had a quick lunch in the van: buns, cheese, meat slices, puddings, cookies, and fruit - all pulled together in minutes - we headed up to the main building to check things out. The boys quickly figured out what we were doing. They were each given their new sunglasses, and we bought our tickets. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201961251429155746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEUMm7IA6I/AAAAAAAADZg/szRCF6omlPo/s400/100_4636.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201961255724123058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEUM27IA7I/AAAAAAAADZo/Gm8KhoRjBzE/s400/100_4637.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201961260019090370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEUNG7IA8I/AAAAAAAADZw/MmvrhwaL4hw/s400/100_4638.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We hung around waiting for our bus til 3:00 pm and while doing so took a few fun shots. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201961242839221122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEUMG7IA4I/AAAAAAAADZQ/0ydhtpPKbuM/s400/100_4632.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201961247134188434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDEUMW7IA5I/AAAAAAAADZY/G2A_05WhRsg/s400/100_4634.jpg" border="0" /&gt;It was cute cause a Japanese lady took a picture of our five boys. I couldn't figure out how the time had gotten away from me and it was already 3:00 pm!!! Later, I clued in - we had a time change and had lost an hour! *laugh* &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Part 2 to follow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-2567854453799737776?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/2567854453799737776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=2567854453799737776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/2567854453799737776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/2567854453799737776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/road-trip-day-1-home-to-columbia.html' title='Road Trip Day 1: Home to Columbia Icefields Pt 1'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SDELXG7IApI/AAAAAAAADXY/JwUruXf5DMc/s72-c/100_4603.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-3922697179486545430</id><published>2008-05-15T22:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T22:50:56.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Character!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;I was trying to get pictures of our three little boys as we went to church one morning. Our two bigger boys were very cooperative smiling, smiling, smiling, as I kept taking pictures to make up for the antics of our cute little three year old!  What a little goof ball. See the many faces he can create!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200848051740606818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0fv27IAWI/AAAAAAAADVA/Ol65lKPUtYQ/s400/100_4375.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200848068920476066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0fw27IAaI/AAAAAAAADVg/2USOzkVsUzw/s400/100_4381.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200848064625508754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0fwm7IAZI/AAAAAAAADVY/gGovteC3BLk/s400/100_4380.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200846677351072034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0ef27IASI/AAAAAAAADUg/e6KU-cDbqTI/s400/100_4374.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200846685941006658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0egW7IAUI/AAAAAAAADUw/BA8EQTrOt4Q/s400/100_4377.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200846690235973970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0egm7IAVI/AAAAAAAADU4/howQRr-HiBI/s400/100_4378.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200848060330541442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0fwW7IAYI/AAAAAAAADVQ/ZaQE9SNF-Hk/s400/100_4379.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200848056035574130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0fwG7IAXI/AAAAAAAADVI/nMFKZMAuvEY/s400/100_4376.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And FINALLY, a priceless one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200846673056104722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0efm7IARI/AAAAAAAADUY/9VinVFlYR9E/s400/100_4372.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-3922697179486545430?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/3922697179486545430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=3922697179486545430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/3922697179486545430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/3922697179486545430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-character.html' title='What a Character!'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0fv27IAWI/AAAAAAAADVA/Ol65lKPUtYQ/s72-c/100_4375.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-7792501266708028728</id><published>2008-05-15T22:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T22:35:10.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Skiing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;The boys went skiing a few times this year. We waited a little long, but then squeezed in three trips right before the end of the season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200842940729524482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0bGW7IAQI/AAAAAAAADUQ/TMLFI-vBJbI/s400/cooper+austin+off+skiing.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Getting Ready to Go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200842936434557170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0bGG7IAPI/AAAAAAAADUI/l7o03Mb2LZM/s400/briton+want+to+ski.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor little Briton really wanted to go, too, but he and I stayed home and had a quiet day. He rallied pretty quickly when I gave him hot chocolate and marshmallows.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200842601427108002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0aym7IAKI/AAAAAAAADTg/B4tv5o_U7TM/s400/100_4326.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0ay27IALI/AAAAAAAADTo/HxHvb55q5xU/s1600-h/100_4325.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200842605722075314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0ay27IALI/AAAAAAAADTo/HxHvb55q5xU/s400/100_4325.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Cooper and Dane&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0azG7IAMI/AAAAAAAADTw/QtEgItEwQfg/s1600-h/closeup+cooper+skier.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200842610017042626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0azG7IAMI/AAAAAAAADTw/QtEgItEwQfg/s400/closeup+cooper+skier.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt; Big Guy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0azW7IANI/AAAAAAAADT4/il4F9tEaFmg/s1600-h/ski+lesson+cooper+austin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200842614312009938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0azW7IANI/AAAAAAAADT4/il4F9tEaFmg/s400/ski+lesson+cooper+austin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt; Ski School&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cooper wanted to ride the chairlift and so he managed to get good enough to do this on his second day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0azm7IAOI/AAAAAAAADUA/HKQLPHoPoiQ/s1600-h/100_4333.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200842618606977250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0azm7IAOI/AAAAAAAADUA/HKQLPHoPoiQ/s400/100_4333.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-7792501266708028728?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/7792501266708028728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=7792501266708028728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/7792501266708028728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/7792501266708028728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/skiing.html' title='Skiing'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0bGW7IAQI/AAAAAAAADUQ/TMLFI-vBJbI/s72-c/cooper+austin+off+skiing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-8435490049716703958</id><published>2008-05-15T22:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T22:20:56.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hail</title><content type='html'>One day we went for a walk and it was a beautiful day. The walk was only 2 km long. By the time we were 2/3 home it began to hail. In the short time it took us to get the rest of the way home there was an inch of hail on the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200839380201635954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0X3G7IAHI/AAAAAAAADTI/YCabe20IMCY/s400/100_4312.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200839393086537858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0X327IAII/AAAAAAAADTQ/PWIDT-BjOjA/s400/100_4313.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Briton was totally overwhelmed by it all and so big brother rescued him, but the other little boys loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200839397381505170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0X4G7IAJI/AAAAAAAADTY/tQxpsqQFc6o/s400/100_4315.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-8435490049716703958?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/8435490049716703958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=8435490049716703958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/8435490049716703958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/8435490049716703958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/hail.html' title='Hail'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0X3G7IAHI/AAAAAAAADTI/YCabe20IMCY/s72-c/100_4312.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-8648804852804055211</id><published>2008-05-15T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T22:09:37.307-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Brother's Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200825520342171746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0LQW7IAGI/AAAAAAAADTA/SgpCUrzHhDg/s400/100_4310.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Happy Birthday Dane!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the wonderful things about having a big family is how everyone wants to be part of putting on the birthday. They get such pleasure out of being party planners. For years Dane has been making treasure hunts for the other children's birthdays. This birthday was for our 15 year old, Dane. His 11 year old brother wanted to put on a treasure hunt for him. He did it in a army theme since that is what Dane enjoys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little brothers each painted a word on the banner that we hung.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200824403650674642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0KPW7H_9I/AAAAAAAADR4/YDfFR-zenDY/s400/100_4276.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;Beginning the Treasure Hunt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200824420830543842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0KQW7H_-I/AAAAAAAADSA/YnANgreAu-A/s400/100_4279.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Heading For the Woods&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200824442305380338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0KRm7H__I/AAAAAAAADSI/xtcDpIPBxto/s400/100_4288.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Following Clues&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;It was very funny because as the boys are studying the clues and trying to figure out where the prize might be, Briton found it. The boys were looking in all directions and Briton was 'talking' and gesturing, but noone was paying attention to him. *laugh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200824498139955218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0KU27IABI/AAAAAAAADSY/MMUdilvF35o/s400/prize+in+tree.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Righ Eah!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200824472370151426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0KTW7IAAI/AAAAAAAADSQ/PiHIHLfRSlQ/s400/100_4292.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Jackpot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Don't think big boys don't enjoy treasure hunts as much as little boys!! We proceeded to the house where Dane was given gifts by all his brothers. They were sweet gifts given from little boys that 'wanted' certain things for their big brother. One little boy knew that his big brother was a good artist and so he took one of his special 'classics' colouring book and gave it as a gift. Big brother doesn't 'colour' but you wouldn't know it by his big smile! Look at the pleasure on little brother's face. It was priceless! (If you notice how red their faces are it is because they went skiing and got a little sunburned!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200825511752237138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0LP27IAFI/AAAAAAAADS4/X-TALGx6aQA/s400/100_4308.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, one of Dane's favourite gifts was the $25 he received. Our boys don't get a lot of hard cold cash, so it was a real treat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200825503162302530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0LPW7IAEI/AAAAAAAADSw/AOau9ytpt_s/s400/100_4307.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Moola!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200825473097531426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0LNm7IACI/AAAAAAAADSg/eo9VNLceprA/s400/100_4303.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Happy Birthday Dane! Our crazy, spontaneous, fun-loving, nutty, loving, son. We love you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0LOW7IADI/AAAAAAAADSo/3la9Y71iEQY/s1600-h/100_4304.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-8648804852804055211?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/8648804852804055211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=8648804852804055211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/8648804852804055211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/8648804852804055211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/big-brothers-birthday.html' title='Big Brother&apos;s Birthday'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0LQW7IAGI/AAAAAAAADTA/SgpCUrzHhDg/s72-c/100_4310.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-5625143510502314528</id><published>2008-05-15T20:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T21:34:01.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Big Three Year Old!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I am a little late writing about some events, but I figure, better late than never!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Our little guy turned THREE in January and we had a quiet little family party. We usually do family birthdays and then a few times during their childhood we do a bigger function. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200814718499422034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0Bbm7H_1I/AAAAAAAADQ4/wFZa3DIe9x8/s400/100_3707.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200814744269225826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0BdG7H_2I/AAAAAAAADRA/p4VQMayrwiU/s400/100_3710.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Opening gifts with Granny and Austin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200814774333996914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0Be27H_3I/AAAAAAAADRI/90ip2EW3XsY/s400/100_3711.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200814817283669890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0BhW7H_4I/AAAAAAAADRQ/-rtoY3JbG-E/s400/100_3712.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Lighting the Candles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200814851643408274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0BjW7H_5I/AAAAAAAADRY/UrGLsvC0ajk/s400/100_3713.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;At first, he was very happy with his cake. He tried hard to blow out the candles, but one would not blow out. He blew and blew and blew and then finally gave up. We couldn't convince him to blow anymore! He didn't pout; he just sat there and refused to blow. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200816406421569442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0C927H_6I/AAAAAAAADRg/HYFublu8djw/s400/100_3714.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;One down!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200816432191373234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0C_W7H_7I/AAAAAAAADRo/KhkhGxWIccA/s400/100_3715.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Two Down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Finally, Granny turned the cake around and everybody cheered him on. He tried one more time and out went the last candle. Everyone cheered and Briton was happy. It was very cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_view_player?p=5d4cf0e87bba827040cc8d" quality="high" scale="noscale" width="408" height="382" wmode="window" allowFullScreen="true" name="FLVPlayer" salign="LT" flashvars="&amp;p=5d4cf0e87bba827040cc8d&amp;skin_id=1704&amp;host=http://www.onetruemedia.com" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="margin:0px;font:12px/13px verdana,arial,sans-serif;line-height:20px;padding-bottom:15px;width:408px;text-align:center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link?p=5d4cf0e87bba827040cc8d&amp;skin_id=1704&amp;source=emplay" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link_image/5d4cf0e87bba827040cc8d/1704.gif" style="border:0px;" width="408" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/landing?&amp;utm_source=emplay&amp;utm_medium=txt2" target="_blank" style="text-decoration:none;"&gt;Photo and video editing at &lt;span style="text-decoration:underline;"&gt;www.OneTrueMedia.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200816573925294018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0DHm7H_8I/AAAAAAAADRw/8VKJjysMDOo/s400/100_3718.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Yummy After All That Hard Work!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-5625143510502314528?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/5625143510502314528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=5625143510502314528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/5625143510502314528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/5625143510502314528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/05/big-three-year-old.html' title='A Big Three Year Old!!'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/SC0Bbm7H_1I/AAAAAAAADQ4/wFZa3DIe9x8/s72-c/100_3707.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-4945225026925345363</id><published>2008-04-21T09:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T10:00:34.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God's Blessings</title><content type='html'>People ask how we can afford to have such a large family. I really believe God has blessed our faithfulness. Ever since we made the decision for me to stay home and raise the children and not bring in a second income we have had to stretch things to make ends meet. My sister once said for our homestudy that we always seem to cover the things that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our children are not lacking. As we have embraced each child that has come along, God has stretched our income to go a little farther. We have never had more than one income. In the construction industry, framing is one of the lowest paid trades. About two years ago that trade finally began to be paid more in scale with the rest of the trades. Through this God truly blessed us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was in time for us to begin an adoption. We had no idea at that time that we would be pursuing an adoption, but since we began the endeavor the money has been there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is meeting the needs of our growing family. I have absolute belief that no matter how many children we welcome into our home God will meet our needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A recent example is when I began walking. I have this tiny little umbrella stroller. I bought it when Briton was 4 months old so that I could take it to movie sets while working with Cassidy. That is the umbrella I was pushing when I hurt my arm. And an update on that arm. WOW!!! I really hurt myself. What I thought was a sore muscle turned out to be either a pulled tendon or a nerve. The doctor thought one thing and the chiropractor another. All I know is that for one month I had the feeling of electric shocks in one area, plus the most intense internal bruising I have ever experienced. Nothing visible, but it felt like someone had knuckled punched me a hundred times in that area. PLUS the tendon/nerve/whatever, was exposed and pulled taught from under my armpit down half way to my elbow!!!! Wow! Talk about pain!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, God knew that little stroller was the culprit. It had barely and room to put my feet under the handle bar, so I was stretching my arms out as I pushed it up the hill!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I saw a friend of mine and she told me that a friend of hers had a jogging stroller that was sitting idle on her porch. She didn't need it. After she asked this friend if I could buy it, the friend then offered it to me for free!! GOD IS GOOD and meets our needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I truly believe that if it is in a mum or dad's mind to stay home and raise their children with one income, God will bless this. Yes, there are things you will need to do to make it work: less takeout, less eating out (we do takeout maybe once a month - eat out a couple times a year), cut expenses where you can, watch for sales, buy in bulk etc - there are so many ways to make ends meet. And God will fill in the blanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are actually better off now that we have nearly 8 children than when we had 3!!!! Nothing has changed. Ray works at exactly the same thing he did 11 years ago. But we tithe faithfully - that is when you give 10% of God's money back to Him for His purposes - and He fully blesses this! It is His money after all!!! He is just loaning us the money, so by giving back to Him a tenth of all money Ray earns we are just fulfilling a scriptural principle and receiving the benefits of it!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill Gates is one of the most giving people in the world - I have heard that he gives 80% of his wealth away! I know that our tiny little town way up North in Canada received computers for one of our 2 schools!! That shows you how far reaching his giving is!! And look how blessed his business is! He may not even be aware that he is fullfilling God's scriptural words - but yet, whether or not Bill Gates knows, God knows and God is fullfilling His promise of opening the 'floodgates of heaven' and filling his 'barn to overflowing'.  Bill Gates is blessed in his endeavors because he gives so much to the needy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And many times I don't even have to ask. God knows our needs before we ask. He knew that walking was important to me - my health - and he knew that I would need a better stroller. He arranged for it - I had nothing to do with it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there are ways to bless others. I have been given many pairs of skates for our kids over the years. I have only ever bought one pair - for our first child many years ago. Now this year, I had an abundance of skates and I knew a girl whose little one was skating in too small skates. So I found out the size and sure enough I had an extra pair in that size. She used them for the season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone ever reads this and wants to know ways to cut corners to be able to stay home and be a one income family, please leave me a comment so I can get back to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-4945225026925345363?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/4945225026925345363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=4945225026925345363' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/4945225026925345363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/4945225026925345363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/04/gods-blessings.html' title='God&apos;s Blessings'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-6092828676557284253</id><published>2008-03-20T15:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T16:48:36.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Was the Wiseacre</title><content type='html'>that said walking was good for you??!!? After listening to my friend, Corrie, go on about the benefits of walking, I thought it was time that I get back to it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About five years ago, I was walking 2km in the morning and then 2 km at night. Then it slowed to 2km in the morning. I loved it. Then it got harder to do cause my hubby was not home to watch the kids, and there was no way I was dragging a horde of hooligans along on my sanity walk! Talk about an insane thought!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the walks stopped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, this influential friend of mine was telling me about *her* daily routine - 4.5km in the morning *and* at night! HELLO?? Is she nuts? No, but she's healthy!! So I figured, if she could do 9km a day in summer and 4.5 km a day in winter, then I could certainly do 2 km a day - period!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, I cheerfully got ready to go. Boys took their bikes, and I took the 3 year old in the stroller cause I was not looking to drag him half way home. Off we went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not too bad. Except, as we are halfway down our road, the five year old tearfully informs me his bike is too small. It is. He must have grown over the winter. You think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell him he can ride his bike and pretend he is a circus clown or he can push it. Not many other options. Tears ensue, as he wobbly tries to ride this bike that no longer fits him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, okay, this is not working. I call to my ever-so-helpful 11 year old and ask him to hike the bike back home. He willingly does this, and off I go, pushing the stroller and cajolling the miserable 5 year old along. Yes, we now have 1.5 km to walk with him walking and them riding. The unfairness of it! At least in his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes of this quiet wailing, I can tell I will not make it another 1.5 km, unless he and I have a talk. We stop, and I tell him that if he wants a new bike then he will have to cheer up. God will bless him with a new bike, but not unless he is a happy boy. God likes to bless us when we are happy in our loss. With that puppy dog look that he gets when he is sad, he looks at me with absolute belief in everything I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We say a quick prayer that God will help him get a new bike and that in the meantime, he can enjoy his walk, as he learns to be the *fastest* runner in the house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a hug, off we go happy once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We carry on down our road walking slowly, while waiting for the 11 year old to come back with his bike. Austin asks if he can ride back to our house to join his big brother. Sure, I say. Off he goes. Soon enough, they are both back and we proceed on our way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Austin gets up ahead of me, he decides to stop. How does he stop? He drags his feet (new runners) on the ground. STOP that! - I say. I have 6 boys to clothe and shoe, and they will NOT drag their shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He goes on to inform me that he doesn't have brakes, therefore, he has to use his shoe. Excuse me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turn to the 11 year old. "Didn't I ask you if the bikes were all road-worthy before we left?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I did - he says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess his idea of road worthy and mine are two different things. So now I have a choice. Send a second child's bike home, or allow him to push it down hills and ride it up hills. Hills where he can ride into the snowdrift to stop. That's what I decide to do. And off we go again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time we get home, I am not sure I will make it this way tomorrow!! I am *not* an exercise buff. I am never going to say I *enjoy* walking or running. Nope. I do it cause I have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, I am determined that this will become a habit. A healthy habit. The boys are psyched and off we go! They were not too thrilled when they heard they would be going without bikes. Obviously, they need to be fixed before we head out again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figure I am going to get this torture over as fast as I can. So I plunk the three year old in the stroller and get hiking. I mean, jogging! Whoa, when Ray found out later I jogged he was *impressed*. He asked if he could watch!! laugh   Obviously I don't walk or run much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did the loop in the fashion our oldest taught us: run, walk, run, walk. We got through this in good time and order. I figured I could do it again the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we did it again. The boys were not so enthusiastic this time. They wanted to ride bikes. I told them running would be good for their hearts and lungs.  Big brother joined us for this run and kindly piggybacked Cooper part of the way. I was still doing fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I took Sunday off... There must be a religous reason why I shouldn't exercise on Sunday, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Monday we ran.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday was a Pajama Day. And for those of you who don't know what those are - you don't have to get dressed. Get up and work hard and don't get dressed. There was no way I was dragging myself out the door, in to the cold, blustery day, while I was cozy in my pjs, with my wood stove cooking. Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Wednesday was a town day - no time to run. Oh, I was starting to feel guilty.  I knew I had to get back into it, or I might not start again! Also, that morning, I noticed something odd. The area under my left arm was tender. Strange. By the end of Wednesday, it was bothering me enough to relax and not do any scrapbooking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night at about 2:30, I woke up. Man, was I sore. That arm was sore, specifically. Probably was on my mind when I went to sleep and the worrying as to what it was woke me up, more than the pain itself. But I couldn't get back to sleep, so I quietly cleaned our room. *smile* Got to use those moments when you have them!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up this morning, I felt like a truck had rolled over me. My arm was still sore, and my legs were tight in the thigh area. I figured it must have been my body seizing up from all that *healthy* huh? exercise. I think the arm is sore from steering the stroller away from the road into the side of the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You ever seen those marionette dolls? When you play with them their legs sometimes look like they have no joint in the knee. Well, as I walk around this house today, my right leg sort of does that thing. Walk the foot forward, no knee working. It kind of flops forward. It is like my muscles in the upper thigh are dead! You know when your foot is asleep how odd you walk? Poor old things, never been used for so long. You would think walking around my house chasing kids, running (walking) up and downstairs would constitute exercise - but apparently not!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here we are today, Thursday. I take the kids out for our 'run'. Yeah, right!! I was so sore today, there was no hightailing it behind that stroller. More like a invalid walking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I will have to do this for a while to work out all that pain that my poor old body is feeling. Meanwhile, my sweet little five year old running beside me called to the kids way up in front, "Wait up. Mum likes to run. I don't" with a cute little smile and a rosy face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked at him, like, "I do?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-6092828676557284253?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/6092828676557284253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=6092828676557284253' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/6092828676557284253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/6092828676557284253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/03/who-was-wiseacre.html' title='Who Was the Wiseacre'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-3084818085480763734</id><published>2008-03-19T21:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T21:54:38.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cookies Can Be Dangerous</title><content type='html'>When you have small kids!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made cookies today. Yummy chocolate chip cookies. As I am seeing my ingredients mix in my blender I hear it begin to THUNK, THUNK, THUNK! What? As I stop the machine and dig around in the mix to see what can be causing my machine to bump so harshly, I find a large, hard lump. What? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I toss it in the dry sink and see that it is PINK? What again? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously!! Do you know what it was? Playdough. Hardened playdough! What else would it be?? laugh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When our little ones play with playdough they sometimes help themselves to a little flour to dust the table. Apparently, on one of their trips to the flour bin they left a handful of playdough behind. Lovely. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dug around and removed as much of the little lumps as I could find. I thought I got them all. I guess I didn't. I forgot about this situation and baked up my cookies. Later, I was enjoying a cookie with a glass of milk when I bit into something nasty....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-3084818085480763734?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/3084818085480763734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=3084818085480763734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/3084818085480763734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/3084818085480763734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/03/cookies-can-be-dangerous.html' title='Cookies Can Be Dangerous'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-3466824620526296035</id><published>2008-03-18T12:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T12:54:40.108-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter Camp Outs and Baby Birds</title><content type='html'>Our 11 year old came to me yesterday and beseeched me to sleep outside. He told me that since it wasn't 'quite spring, not too much snow, and not yet muddy' could they have a winter campout, so he could earn his Scouting Winter Camping badge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I agreed that he could do it, BUT.... I had lots of requirements. Of course he was willing to do them all, all the whilst thinking his mother was rather over-protective. *smile* I said they had to have a groundsheet, and then fill the base of the tent with thick foamies, and then three blankets down, a sleeping bag and then three blankets on top. *grin* Seriously. I did not want them cold. My husband said, "Don't you think they will be warm enough?" And my reply was that it is fun to sleep outside if they are warm, but there is nothing like waking up cold!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later on, I heard one of the boys coughing and it reminded me that a cough can go to the lungs and become pneumonia. I am not a nurse, but I know that two of the three boys who wanted to do this have been nursing chesty coughs for a while. Suddenly the idea of sleeping outside did not sound so smart. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I knew I was going to have to disappoint them. And they were. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The older boys understood but the five year old was rather sad. We had a little cuddle and I tried to think of something 'just as cool' as sleeping outside in a tent in the winter. What could I come up with?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;"Hey, how about making a bed in my bathtub and you can pretend you are a baby bird in your nest?"&lt;/span&gt; (We have a very large soaker tub)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He looked at me and in his cynical little five year old voice says, &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;"Yeah, right!"&lt;/span&gt; *how funny* Every day this little guy gets more grownup!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I say, &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;"So where do you want to sleep?"&lt;/span&gt; Of course, the answer is &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;"Outside"&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not happening!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Second choice - in our bed. I knew my hubby was coming down with a cold and was going to bed at 8:30 pm and would not appreciate a wiggly, squirmy little excited 5 year old kicking him all night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;"Okay, I'll make a nest and be a baby bird." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now he was excited!! He is much smaller than our tub, so it worked out nicely. One child happy. Two other unhappy boys. Oh well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He dashed off to get his foamie, blankets and pillow and created himself a nice little bed. He jumped in and got himself all settled for the night. A little later, I heard him saying to his dad, &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;"Are you going to sleep now, Dad?"&lt;/span&gt; as my hubby turned out the bedroom light. Our little guy had as close to a sleepout as he could get - the tub is in the corner of a fairly large room with 4'x4' windows on each corner - and the moon was out bright!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179169012040781602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-AaxqpmzyI/AAAAAAAADOw/sfZkY1a5XdA/s400/100_4251.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Sound Asleep in the Middle of the Night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What was the first thing he said when he woke up this morning? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;"Can I sleep there again tonight?"&lt;/span&gt; Too cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later, at lunch time, the boys all went outside to the still set up tent and crawled inside to visit and play cards. I was doing some testing of Austin and wanted to have the house quiet, so they were thrilled to go outside. When Austin was done, he joined them and they all played. I then served them lunch and boy was it warm in there! I guess the noon day sun, plus four little bodies in a pup tent really creates heat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179169016335748914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-Aax6pmzzI/AAAAAAAADO4/4pp7hCBAOhk/s400/100_4253.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Winter Picnic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-3466824620526296035?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/3466824620526296035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=3466824620526296035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/3466824620526296035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/3466824620526296035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/03/winter-camp-outs-and-baby-birds.html' title='Winter Camp Outs and Baby Birds'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-AaxqpmzyI/AAAAAAAADOw/sfZkY1a5XdA/s72-c/100_4251.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-260262110396216757</id><published>2008-03-17T16:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T12:19:44.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Green Day for Briton</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97-_apmzxI/AAAAAAAADOo/64jBS_hnzJg/s1600-h/100_4249.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178856986961694482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97-_apmzxI/AAAAAAAADOo/64jBS_hnzJg/s400/100_4249.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Our little guy is taking his time speaking. What is his need? He has five big brothers to speak for him! We help him and try to encourage him to form words with his little mouth. But it is hard. He is so funny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Austin was 3 years and 9 months, our doctor thought he should see a speech pathologist because he couldn't speak so well. I don't remember much except I know he spoke way better than Briton does. Mind you, Briton is only 3 years 2 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took Austin to see this speech guy and he immediately was concerned. He ran him through a battery of tests and said he was 'profoundly delayed'. I told the therapist that Austin was a fourth child and wasn't there any possibility that it was simply because he didn't *need* to speak? He didn't think it had anything to do with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We set up some appointments - as in - about 5 - and proceeded. We only did five because the guy moved from our small town and we were left with noone. During the course of these few visits I was scrutinized. It was *painful*! This guy kept analyzing how *I* speak. Man, oh, man!! I don't even like public speaking at the best of times. And here I was, sitting on the ground in this guy's office 'speech therapying' (is that a word? LOL) my son, while he was *watching ME*. It was killing me!! Who was there for the therapy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all you who don't know me - I talk quickly. I conserve time by saying more in a shorter period of time. *grin* This guy figured I was stunting my child by how I speak. *You* try continuing therapy with that guy!! Well, lucky for me, he left town!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This doctor had wanted us to set up some 'play dates' since poor Austin wasn't in school where he could be properly socialized *grin*. I told the doctor that didn't he think it was *better* that Austin was speaking to children (ages 6, 9, and 11) who could speak clearly? And not just a bunch of 3 and 4 year olds who had speech issues of their own? He didn't think so. :o/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, we put up little pictures in the kitchen to work on the sound 'sh' and he learned it easily enough. And then we got back to real life and just continued what we had always done. Living with him. Speaking to him. Playing with him. And having him spend time with all ages - big and little. We didn't focus on his speech - we focused on him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six months later, a lady speech therapist came to town. She was only going to be coming into town for one day a month and we could pick up where we left off. Austin was now 4 1/2. Therefore, as a homeschool family, we were at the dropping off point. He could only be seen by the public system for another couple months before he was considered 'school age' and therefore, not covered by the government.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, as homeschoolers, we fall between the cracks. And there is no private speech therapy in our little town! So what are you to do? I wasn't too worried. I knew he was coming along fine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went to see this lady she wrote him down as a 'miracle'. Why? Because his speech had come so far in 6 months. I told her what I had told the doctor about being around people of all ages and that I felt that being child number 4 he was more likely to take his time. She agreed with me and said he was proof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now today we have Briton. Much the same story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His speech has been slow to say the least. He has other ways of expressing himself. Since he was tiny he would use his body language to tell you what he wants or feels. It is quite hilarious, actually! My sister couldn't believe what he could show he was feeling simply by his shoulders, hands and facial expression - at 2 1/2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next he learned every sound under the sun. They say boys make noises instead of speaking. Well, they are right! I live with the best one of all!! When he doesn't have the word for the item he is trying to tell me about (which is the majority of the time) he will give me the 'sound' that it makes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Go for a ride in the car - "mmmmrrrrmmrr" accompanied by hands and shoulders going like he is driving around corners&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A runny nose - "eeeewwww"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An airplane - "yeow yeow"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;A whistle - he wanted to ask where his whistle was: "ooooohhhh oooooohhh" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Another time he is looking at photographs of helicopters beside me right now. There are multiple photographs and he holds them both up and says, "Eight, eight, eight." Then I tell him I am working and to take the photos out of my face and he says, "Me, me, me." And makes a noise like a crashing airplane, cause don't you know, that is what helicopters sound like! "Chhhchcchh"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;He continues looking at the picture of the helicopter hovering over the ocean. There is a man on a cable below the helicopter. He points to the man and then at the water. He says, &lt;em&gt;"ai ai ai - wah ee."&lt;/em&gt; He is telling me that the helicopter is above the water and the man might fall in the water.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, as just happened as I am writing this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He comes out of the bathroom down the hall holding a toilet roll holder and saying: "Eeeww!!!!" As he waves it in the air. I quickly figure out what he is saying as there is water dripping off the thing. He shows me by waving it over the toilet that he dropped it in the (clean, thankfully!) toilet. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get really good at figuring out a whole situation by ONE word!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few examples of his use of the word: Done -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;"Done" - meaning, "I am done drawing on the wall. I don't need a consequence."&lt;br /&gt;"Done" - meaning, "I am done my dinner. That is why I got down from the table."&lt;br /&gt;"Done" - meaning, "The paint tub is empty. Can I have some more?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Briton has shown me how little vocabulary we actually need to get by! This child can get across the majority of what he is trying to say with either a noise or one word!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He does a lot of one word speaking with a lot of stress on that one word - for instance: &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;"Me, me, me," to show he wants to play with something. Or "Done, done, done."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Briton wanted a cupcake. I told him he could have it when he had done dinner. This is his reply:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;"Done, done, done, eat, eat, eat, me, me, me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Apparently, he is 'done' dinner and wants to 'eat' the cupcake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He just came to me with a bag that has some African necklaces in it. He wants one of these necklaces because the boys got them. He holds up the bag and says, "Me, me, me". And then he puts his hands to his mouth and says, "Whooo whooo," because he thinks that the necklaces are whistles because they have pendants on them that look like whistles.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how he gets his meanings across.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of his new words are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;weevee - tv&lt;br /&gt;pant - paint&lt;br /&gt;wor - four&lt;br /&gt;wox - socks&lt;br /&gt;we ah - right there&lt;br /&gt;wah ee - water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a recent conversation I had with Briton, while trying to get him to count properly. I was showing him toys and as I pointed to one or the other I would say a number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;"One" Me talking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wa" Briton replying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Two" Me pointing at two&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wor" Briton replying (meaning "Four")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two " Me trying again to get Briton to say "Two"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wor!" Briton trying again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Two" Me trying *again*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"EIGHT!" Briton's loud response with a great big smile!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is so funny. When you try to get him to talk - he will look at you so earnestly, look at your mouth, mimic your mouth with great expression, and out will come another sound/word altogether.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point we try again. He will willingly try again. Then he will make a mistake and then like a clown, throw up his hands like, "what a joke!" and then drop his head to his chest and shake it, laughing at himself. He is hard to take serious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The interesting thing about Briton is he has all these letters and numbers locked up inside him that are just dying to get out. When he is talking about something and it is a quantity of something he will say, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;"four, free, eight"&lt;/span&gt; or some order of those numbers. What he really means is, "There is more than one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or when he is talking he will spit out random letters. One day we were watching the movie, "Akeelah and the Bee". This movie is a wonderful family movie about an innercity little girl who beats the odds and goes on to win the National Spelling Bee. While this little girl was onstage spelling out words, Briton was sitting on the couch, knowing full well what she was doing. He was yelling out letters to help her along!! It was a hoot!! He kept calling out, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;"A, E, S, R, B"&lt;/span&gt; and on. This child can't speak but yet he can spell!! Well, not literally, but he has the concept of what letters are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;He draws a bunch of symbols on a piece of paper and babbles to me, 'B, A, R, D."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously we work hard to help him learn to talk. He just doesn't think it that important yet. Throughout the day I will take little moments and a few words and have him look me in the face and practice saying certain sounds and words. He works hard but we don't pressure him. Little by little, he will improve, just like Austin did. He is quite content to have less words right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why was today &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;ONE GREEN DAY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because this morning when Briton was at the counter and Cassidy was working on all the green decorations, he picked one up and said, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;"GEEN"&lt;/span&gt; - clear as a bell!! Oh, what praise he received. Hugs and kisses and clapping. First, he recognized it was GREEN and not any other colour, but more importantly because he SAID his new word!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on, while he was painting the picture up above he turned to me and after thinking carefully (you could see the wheels turning) he very solomnly formed his lips and pulled them in together and then pushed them out to create the sound, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;"WWWUUUNNN&lt;/span&gt;" - ONE. Oh, the excitement again!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Earlier today I had been working with him on the word ONE. He had painstakingly done it. But he has never voluntarily tried a 'new' word on his own before. Hence the huge praise.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him to do it again, and with great determination and effort, he pushed that sound out of his mouth. And then when I asked him to do it again? Laugh. He said, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"DONE!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few moments later, as he was painting his picture and I was chatting with him about it I said, "It's a green day, today." And he turned to me and said, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;"Geen day".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is very rarely using two word sentences. Mostly one word repeated two or three times, to get his point across. So today he used two new words and then put two words together to form a sentence!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YEAH FOR BRITON!!! Each small step is a HUGE step!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;After I wrote this post, Briton came in the backdoor from being in the tent outside. I hear him, "Mum?" I go to the laundry room and there he is waving his muddy little foot in the air. "Feet," he says as he wiggles it around. "What happened?" I ask him. "Me, I." He was telling me that he (me) went outside (I) and walked around the house from the tent and proceeded to get a muddy little foot. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here was a two word 'sentence'. He is slowly progressing. Bit by bit...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-260262110396216757?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/260262110396216757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=260262110396216757' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/260262110396216757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/260262110396216757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/03/one-green-day.html' title='One Green Day for Briton'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97-_apmzxI/AAAAAAAADOo/64jBS_hnzJg/s72-c/100_4249.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-2965802105479519379</id><published>2008-03-17T13:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T15:14:37.402-07:00</updated><title type='text'>St. Patricks Day Fun</title><content type='html'>Today was a fun day for the boys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon, we will be reading the story of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;St. Patrick.&lt;/span&gt;  I remember celebrating &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;St. Patrick's Day&lt;/span&gt; for my whole childhood and not knowing the meaning of it. It wasn't until I was an adult and a Christian that I found out the meaning of this man and his holiday. It was not about leprechauns and pots of gold, like I had been raised believing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt; Instead, it was about a man named Patrick.  When he was a boy, he lived in England, as a Roman Citizen. One day he was captured and taken prisoner and made a slave of the Celts, in Ireland. For six years he was a slave. He began having dreams. Dreams that he would leave Ireland.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt; One day, this dream came true and he took a boat back to England. He was happy there, but one day he had another dream. The people of Ireland were asking him to return and walk with them always. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt; He knew if he was to go back to Ireland it was to be a priest and to bring Jesus Christ to the Irish. So he went to school, and one day returned to Ireland as a Bishop. Patrick got to spend time with people and he told them about Jesus. He told the Druids about Jesus, too. These Druids had wanted to kill Patrick. Over time, Patrick preached his God and many people chose to follow Christ. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt; Patrick showed them the three leaf clover and told them that the clover had three leaves, but is one. This is the mystery of the Holy Trinity - Three in One, One in Three. Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit.  God, Jesus, Holy Spirit.  And that is why people wear shamrocks on St. Patrick's Day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as we got up this morning, we began baking cupcakes for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;St. Patricks Day&lt;/span&gt;! I love spontaneous days! I much prefer to do things on the spur of the moment, rather than planning. When I plan something I always feel this pressure cause it has to get done. I am the type of person who would spontaneously make a trip to California tomorrow! Seriously, I love adventure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So first thing, I had Cassidy get himself the cake mix - yup, no healthy, made from scratch cake mix here today! A simple recipe that did not need me involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97cyKpmzfI/AAAAAAAADMY/j3z4eptHB7M/s1600-h/100_4230.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97cyKpmzfI/AAAAAAAADMY/j3z4eptHB7M/s400/100_4230.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178819375933083122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Waiting For Their Turns to Help&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Austin then the thrill of trying to untangle some decorations from a box that has been sitting stored for so long! He was unsuccessful, so my helpful, creative son, Cassidy, took charge. He took the mobile apart and created three individual hanging decorations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97cyapmzgI/AAAAAAAADMg/OOytlDCZX0w/s1600-h/100_4231.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97cyapmzgI/AAAAAAAADMg/OOytlDCZX0w/s400/100_4231.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178819380228050434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Untangling the Tangles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97ekKpmznI/AAAAAAAADNY/ugBFJItJuog/s1600-h/100_4232.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97ekKpmznI/AAAAAAAADNY/ugBFJItJuog/s400/100_4232.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178821334438170226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Mr. Creative Himself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then commenced to cutting out some construction paper in the shape of a shamrock and then sewed it with thread to create a stuffed shamrock!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97cy6pmziI/AAAAAAAADMw/4TRBv9wKM5U/s1600-h/100_4236.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97cy6pmziI/AAAAAAAADMw/4TRBv9wKM5U/s400/100_4236.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178819388817985058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Green Art&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this, Cassidy made the little ones green paint in a variety of shades. They then painted their hands and made designs. Briton had fun and only made one picture before he was done. Cooper had lots of fun painting his hand over and over and over and kept on printing his hand over the previous ones, until there was no evidence of hand prints!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cassidy is a really great helper when it comes to the little ones and preschool. He is a creative boy and gets his schoolwork done quickly and easily, so he is the obvious one to call on for being my helper. He is going to have lots of fun when the other children come home and we have enough for a small classroom in the 9 and under catagory!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97czapmzjI/AAAAAAAADM4/DeLHR-gnNHU/s1600-h/100_4239.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97czapmzjI/AAAAAAAADM4/DeLHR-gnNHU/s400/100_4239.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178819397407919666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Face Painting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once the boys were finished their arts and crafts and baking they went digging for green shirts. Cassidy tried to get away with green underwear, but I told him I couldn't see that in the picture! Besides, I don't think he even owns green underwear?! laugh.  We then had fun painting up their faces. Cooper wanted a little shamrock on his nose and Austin wanted one on his forehead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97eE6pmzkI/AAAAAAAADNA/E-B5ZkBrmiQ/s1600-h/100_4240.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97eE6pmzkI/AAAAAAAADNA/E-B5ZkBrmiQ/s400/100_4240.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178820797567258178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;St. Patrick's Day Lunch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lunch was mint green banana milkshakes, honey sandwiches, and green cupcakes with green icing. Oh, and of course, it was served on green plates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97eFKpmzlI/AAAAAAAADNI/XevDcIqmmJ0/s1600-h/100_4244.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97eFKpmzlI/AAAAAAAADNI/XevDcIqmmJ0/s400/100_4244.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178820801862225490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Cleaning up the Kitchen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the lunch was over Cassidy was commandeered to clean up the kitchen. He could have had Austin's help, but knew that he could lick the icing bowl if he did the job completely alone! Sometimes the easiest way to get a job done quickly and completely and well is to have a child work alone - and I like to add an incentive sometimes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Note:  Before Cassidy got his icing bowl, the rest of his brothers got a spoonful, of course!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-2965802105479519379?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/2965802105479519379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=2965802105479519379' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/2965802105479519379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/2965802105479519379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/03/st-patricks-day-fun.html' title='St. Patricks Day Fun'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97cyKpmzfI/AAAAAAAADMY/j3z4eptHB7M/s72-c/100_4230.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-2933280844296459101</id><published>2008-03-14T16:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T15:05:29.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shakespeare's Twelfth Night - Our Kids Production</title><content type='html'>For the fourth year in a row, our boys did a homeschool play/musical production. This years play was not as musical as it usually is. This time it was more a regular play, but it was very well done. We took on Shakespeare's Twelfth Night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids all went for the roles they wanted, or if we were lacking people for parts, as many of our homeschoolers had moved away this year, then some kids were roped into roles they might not have normally gone out for! Colt, was even asked to take on a role, even though he was in public school at the time! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The last time he was part of the play, two years ago, he had a small role and kept rather low key. His Cadets has been wonderful for his self confidence and public speaking abilities. He was one of the few people who did not need a microphone for the performance. Not that any of them were allowed mics. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Dane, as per the norm, took on a part that was as small as possible, but ended up having a great time at the performance. He just doesn't like the dressing up - silly costumes as far as he is concerned. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was rather funny when I went to a ladies store in town and asked if they sold tights. The lady asked me for what size? Hmmm... "Well, my son is 6' foot." She looked at me rather funny. *grin* I then proceeded to tell her I needed two pairs as both my sons would be wearing them ... for a play. *grin*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;When I went to the second hand shop to find odds and ends to put their costumes together the bill was a little high, so I asked her if she would give a discount since the clothes would only be worn for a school play. She talked to her manager and then gave me a 'Seniors Discount'. Didn't realize I looked that old! *grin*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Austin wanted a part this year. He usually takes on a tiny part of one or two lines. This year he wanted something equally as small, but as it turned out he was given a line near the end of the play, as well as his original lines. He did very well and enjoyed his role as Fabien, a servant, of Lady Olivia. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cassidy would probably have liked to have done something simple, but I knew he was capable of hamming it up and having fun. So he went for the role of Malovio - the snotty butler who falls in love with the lady of the house, and later gets locked up as a maniac. Cassidy did not disappoint. He was his typical relaxed self!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177757900535679602" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sXYKpmynI/AAAAAAAADFY/JuQkKh5myPg/s400/100_4006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sXYqpmyoI/AAAAAAAADFg/9EDHgmUs4YY/s1600-h/100_4009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177757909125614210" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sXYqpmyoI/AAAAAAAADFg/9EDHgmUs4YY/s400/100_4009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt; They were about to be shipwrecked....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177762676539312978" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sbuKpmy1I/AAAAAAAADHI/Ey4PL4jbr9w/s400/100_4093.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Cooper was an endearing little raindrop. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177763479698197394" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9scc6pmy5I/AAAAAAAADHo/LxHJtCWWR88/s400/100_4107.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Briton was going to be a Rain Drop, but decided he would rather stay off the stage and watch the play with our friend, Tammy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sXY6pmypI/AAAAAAAADFo/VQq0yZfsOlI/s1600-h/100_4019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177757913420581522" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sXY6pmypI/AAAAAAAADFo/VQq0yZfsOlI/s400/100_4019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;" I've been to Olivia's to pay her a call. I have some news, but it's not so hot. She'll wear a veil to cover her tears, and see noone for seven years,"&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Fabien (Austin) said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sXZapmyqI/AAAAAAAADFw/kk1OtJRbx1I/s1600-h/100_4028.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177757922010516130" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sXZapmyqI/AAAAAAAADFw/kk1OtJRbx1I/s400/100_4028.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;"Olivia is busy. You'll have to go back,"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Malvolio (Cassidy) spoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sXZqpmyrI/AAAAAAAADF4/lw1VkBzcNyU/s1600-h/100_4037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177757926305483442" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sXZqpmyrI/AAAAAAAADF4/lw1VkBzcNyU/s400/100_4037.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Malvolio removing his shoes to take a nap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177761671516965570" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sazqpmysI/AAAAAAAADGA/Whz1Qs60kMo/s400/100_4047.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Don't stay with me. I'm an unlucky guy,"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Sebastian (Dane) said.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;"I can't go with you. There are people here who want my head. They say, years ago I committed a crime. The Duke is eager for me to do time. But here is some money, my good friend; it doesn't matter how much you spend,"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; replied Antonio (Colt)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177761675811932882" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9saz6pmytI/AAAAAAAADGI/xpOelauWKD8/s400/100_4060.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Sebastian wasn't worried at all. He ripped off his shirt and began to brawl. He fought Sir Andrew, his fists clenched tight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177763466813295458" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sccKpmy2I/AAAAAAAADHQ/_qxxgve9ldw/s400/100_4100.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Sir Toby jumped in to stop the fight. Sebastian turned on him with his sword.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177761692991802114" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sa06pmywI/AAAAAAAADGg/a1wYthXQvrI/s400/100_4073.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Stop! You're under arrest!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; The guards arrested Antonio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177769960803847074" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9siWKpmy6I/AAAAAAAADHw/ebYPN4htUno/s400/malvolio+jail.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I'm not insane! I have good reason to complain,"&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;cried Malvolio after he was locked up by the pranksters.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177762663654411042" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sbtapmyyI/AAAAAAAADGw/flry8Z3ZJgs/s400/100_4077.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;"Who's this fellow I'm about to meet? Am I going mad? You look like the brother I never had!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Sebastian said to his long lost sister, (in disguise as a guy) Viola.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177762667949378354" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sbtqpmyzI/AAAAAAAADG4/1nyj1RIiONE/s400/100_4081.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;"I helped to bring this man to shame. Sir Toby Belch had the time of his life with Maria who is now his wife,"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Fabian proudly said. (the three of them were responsible for locking up Malvolio as a maniac)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177763475403230082" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sccqpmy4I/AAAAAAAADHg/CC07Vm9v4BY/s400/100_4125.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the girls got flowers from their parents after the play and Cooper (who'd have thunk!) really wanted some, too. Sweetfully, my friend Tammy asked a friend's little girl for a sprig from her bouquet and Cooper was beyond thrilled. He told anyone who would listen about his flowers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177762672244345666" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sbt6pmy0I/AAAAAAAADHA/UgB338XqTmk/s400/100_4085.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The cast minus the little Raindrops.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177763471108262770" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sccapmy3I/AAAAAAAADHY/1hR80HEE0Cc/s400/100_4104.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The actors signing programs before the play.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-2933280844296459101?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/2933280844296459101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=2933280844296459101' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/2933280844296459101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/2933280844296459101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/03/shakespeares-twelfth-night-our-kids.html' title='Shakespeare&apos;s Twelfth Night - Our Kids Production'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9sXYKpmynI/AAAAAAAADFY/JuQkKh5myPg/s72-c/100_4006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-476757652998764613</id><published>2008-03-14T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T15:13:50.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scout Semis, Cub Cars, Beaver Buggies - Winners!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Three of our boys are in Scouts, Cubs, and Beavers. This is the second year that Cassidy and Austin have entered a car in the races. Before they entered in the Cubs and Scouts races they also did the Awana Grand Prix, in Tennessee, two years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;They learned some tricks of decorating and speed while down there. This caused them to be healthy competition to the rest of the kids&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Each of the Cubs and Scouts is given a wooden kit. The Semi comes with different fronts. Cassidy chose his and then he and his dad used the bandsaw to cut out extras to put on his semi. He then added things like lights, insignias and license plates. He did a custom job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Austin designed his block of wood - they don't come precut - and then Ray cut it out in the Austin's chosen shape. The kids then chose their paints and they used acrylic and shelacs. They worked very hard and came out with pretty sharp looking vehicles!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;What was really nice about these models is the time they spend with their dad, while they are building these. Ray is a pretty busy guy with his construction company and little model cars are not something that he builds very often (!), so this yearly father and son craft is a neat time. They end up spending a few weekends working on these. That is the best part. The memories of building the cars and trucks together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;These little models will make nice heirloom pieces to show their own kids. Cassidy now has two semis, with the potential to make 2 or 3 more over the next couple years, plus his race cars. Austin has three home made race cars now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97sFKpmzuI/AAAAAAAADOQ/MVii2E9syxo/s1600-h/100_4197.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97sFKpmzuI/AAAAAAAADOQ/MVii2E9syxo/s400/100_4197.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178836195025014498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Cooper With His Badge and Buggy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The Beaver Buggies don't race for prizes; they just have a good time. Cooper did well with his little race car. It came in 2nd a number of times. Each of the Beavers were then given a badge to sew on their Beaver camp blanket. Cooper was a little disappointed cause the Beavers didn't get to actually 'race'. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;After this race, the cubs raced their Cub Cars. These cars are weighed before they are raced, to be certain that they are within the legal weight limit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177708873483995746" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9rqyapmymI/AAAAAAAADFQ/tWjEUSaKGrU/s400/100_4176.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Austin With His Cub Car&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177687647755618866" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9rXe6pmyjI/AAAAAAAADE4/mNQZN8hSjS0/s400/100_4195.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Racing - 2nd From Bottom&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97scapmzvI/AAAAAAAADOY/YdPkXOQDBLo/s1600-h/100_4201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97scapmzvI/AAAAAAAADOY/YdPkXOQDBLo/s400/100_4201.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178836594456973042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Accepting His Trophy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Austin came in 2nd Place for Model Car. He was very happy with that placement!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The Scout Semis are not raced for speed; they are judged for their model looks. But before the races took place the kids raced their semis and Cassidy came first in the two races he put it in. He was pretty pleased about that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177687875388885570" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9rXsKpmykI/AAAAAAAADFA/FV8h9cIIHjk/s400/100_4188.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Cassidy's Semi Model&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177682927586560514" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9rTMKpmygI/AAAAAAAADEg/VxlJCdJuSmg/s400/100_4199.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Very Impressed With His Win&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177682910406691298" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9rTLKpmyeI/AAAAAAAADEQ/TSnc6C2346U/s400/100_4179.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Cassidy and His Semis From Last Year and This Year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;But his big smile came when he heard his name called for 2nd place for Model Truck prize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177682906111723986" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9rTK6pmydI/AAAAAAAADEI/t6S9FGiaNZo/s400/100_4187.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;2nd Place Model Truck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177708074620078674" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9rqD6pmylI/AAAAAAAADFI/uiJQr14DCkc/s400/100_4208.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177683133744990754" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R9rTYKpmyiI/AAAAAAAADEw/seuWkl6SGbs/s400/100_4206.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;And the Winners!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-476757652998764613?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/476757652998764613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=476757652998764613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/476757652998764613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/476757652998764613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/03/scout-semis-cub-cars-beaver-buggies.html' title='Scout Semis, Cub Cars, Beaver Buggies - Winners!'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R97sFKpmzuI/AAAAAAAADOQ/MVii2E9syxo/s72-c/100_4197.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-2162445915237563115</id><published>2008-02-16T21:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T21:39:45.421-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentines Day Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/rVWgct5Bfdc' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/rVWgct5Bfdc'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is the audio that Cassidy, Austin, and Cooper sang. I could not load the video, but this was the other little thing they did. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-2162445915237563115?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/2162445915237563115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=2162445915237563115' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/2162445915237563115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/2162445915237563115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/02/valentines-day-song.html' title='Valentines Day Song'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-2988240931294511101</id><published>2008-02-16T20:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T21:46:02.447-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Valentine's Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I wish I could show you the dvd that my 11 year old son made me for Valentine's Day!! It is so clever that the file format is too big to bring up on the file.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I love about homeschooling are the opportunities! When they are home all day there are moments, and hours to do things that would have to be squeezed into the evening if they were in public school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Valentine's Day, our 11 year old C. said that he had a project that he wanted to make on the computer. I knew it was a secret from the way they were so careful when I came into the room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167811768787989538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R7fBbGiw9CI/AAAAAAAADAg/C4JZx2ig5H0/s400/100_3898.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Watching Big Brother Create a DVD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was wonderful to watch the boys put it together. Big brother, Colt, was in the office doing his schoolwork, but every so often his expertise would be needed as one of the boys would ask him how to spell as word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167812644961318002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R7fCOGiw9HI/AAAAAAAADBI/VIyAMzrrla0/s400/100_3892.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Spelling Help&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little ones would be seen running upstairs with my camera. Their big brother, Dane, was the photographer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167809917657084898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R7e_vWiw8-I/AAAAAAAADAA/KlBHndU6Jgg/s400/100_3874.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Photographer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Other times, I would come upstairs to hear hushed whispers and doors quickly closing, to be sure I didn't see what they were doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167809767333229522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R7e_mmiw89I/AAAAAAAAC_4/EjUAkLYWpac/s400/100_3871.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Love Heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;See the hearts they created in between their bodies with their arms and hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once before my son had done the same thing. He has created a dvd for his brother's birthday and done a remarkable job. This time, we had a new computer and he had not even used it before, plus he had my camera and he had never uploaded pictures before. Well obviously he figured it out pretty well!! He did a remarkable job creating this video. I was truly amazed at what they accomplished as a little unified team, with an 11 year old leader! I wish I could show it, but the file is too big to upload. It was wonderful with special effects and music and all the pictures that I have shown on this blog. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This is Cassidy's cast:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167809930541986818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R7e_wGiw9AI/AAAAAAAADAQ/clTYjcDMyKA/s400/100_3877.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Cooper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167809921952052210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R7e_vmiw8_I/AAAAAAAADAI/QrvpwzI_LHI/s400/100_3875.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Briton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167814066595492994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R7fDg2iw9II/AAAAAAAADBQ/x3UxlJtpLbY/s400/100_3840.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Austin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167809715793621954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R7e_jmiw88I/AAAAAAAAC_w/VFRRpEV4rZg/s400/100_3880.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;And the Director&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Cassidy took a picture of his own face, hence the close up. *smile*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While this was going on, the boys had fun writing their Valentine's cards. They each took their supplies and sneaked off to their own little corner to create their special cards. Then one by one they slipped them into the slots of their brothers mailboxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Being in school I remember Valentines Day as being a day of getting cards from lots of little friends, but once we hit highschool it became a day of 'who had a girl/boyfriend' and who didn't. I remember Colt's first week of school last year. He quickly had girls liking him and the poor boy! The first week of school and he was already getting pressure from girls that a certain girl liked him and he would just 'have' to buy her a rose from the stand where they were selling them. Talk about welcome to the system! It was so nice in our house this year. Everyone making cards and creating surprises and totally a day about loving each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Ray brought me a box of chocolates, a red rose, and a nice card. He signed it to the effect of "Ray and Justine Plus Six and More." *grin* - who knows how many 'more'!! I bought Ray two cards - one funny, one sweet, and a box of chocolates. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Our little sentimental son, Cassidy, the one who likes to make birthday parties, (and dvds) made sure to buy his dad some chocolates to go along with my dvd. He also made an envelope for all the cards he made for the family as a whole. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167811751608120338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R7fBaGiw9BI/AAAAAAAADAY/BbiGExcFxNc/s400/100_3894.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Briton Signing His Fingerpainted Cards With Mum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167811777377924146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R7fBbmiw9DI/AAAAAAAADAo/wd-DftP6lEs/s400/100_3899.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Delivering His Cards.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167811781672891458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R7fBb2iw9EI/AAAAAAAADAw/z43VX5Q2N90/s400/100_3905.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Having Fun Making His Deliveries&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Briton had a wonderful time delivering his Valentines. He had a terrible time keeping his little mitts out of the envelopes once they were delivered!!! *smile*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167811790262826066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R7fBcWiw9FI/AAAAAAAADA4/5agvfG3Anuc/s400/100_3913.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Lots of Little Envelopes of Treats and Cards&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I can't wait til next year, when we have two or three more little envelopes lined up filled with treats!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167812254119294050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R7fB3Wiw9GI/AAAAAAAADBA/NJDknTVE31c/s400/100_3918.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Enjoying Their Treats&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-2988240931294511101?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/2988240931294511101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=2988240931294511101' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/2988240931294511101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/2988240931294511101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2008/02/happy-valentines-day.html' title='Happy Valentine&apos;s Day!'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R7fBbGiw9CI/AAAAAAAADAg/C4JZx2ig5H0/s72-c/100_3898.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-3252673047390509658</id><published>2007-12-29T16:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T17:17:31.104-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bu5yGuKkI/AAAAAAAAC1U/dEfWZnfRgHc/s1600-h/100_3225.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149565900414659138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bu5yGuKkI/AAAAAAAAC1U/dEfWZnfRgHc/s400/100_3225.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bu6SGuKlI/AAAAAAAAC1c/U8qSiUnovzE/s1600-h/100_3227.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149565909004593746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bu6SGuKlI/AAAAAAAAC1c/U8qSiUnovzE/s400/100_3227.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bu6iGuKmI/AAAAAAAAC1k/7fFy82Rs3oI/s1600-h/100_3231.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149565913299561058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bu6iGuKmI/AAAAAAAAC1k/7fFy82Rs3oI/s400/100_3231.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Why not add a sheet of plywood to the picnic table and create a launch!! Something only boys would do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149567450897853090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bwUCGuKqI/AAAAAAAAC2E/Bt-r6JIGjoo/s400/100_3233.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Higher is Better&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149567459487787698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bwUiGuKrI/AAAAAAAAC2M/hBzJAYAUHak/s400/100_3287.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Waiting For His Ride&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149567463782755010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bwUyGuKsI/AAAAAAAAC2U/pPXgWCYlhMY/s400/100_3288.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Snowy days! The Best ATV Rides!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149567468077722322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bwVCGuKtI/AAAAAAAAC2c/SKxOYC5Olmk/s400/100_3289.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-3252673047390509658?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/3252673047390509658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=3252673047390509658' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/3252673047390509658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/3252673047390509658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/winter-fun.html' title='Winter Fun'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bu5yGuKkI/AAAAAAAAC1U/dEfWZnfRgHc/s72-c/100_3225.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-1089550371370519281</id><published>2007-12-29T14:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T14:57:45.501-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Happens When Big Brother Babysits?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; He gives little brother a Faux-Hawk!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149532537108703730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bQjyGuKfI/AAAAAAAAC0s/wtXVrnzscKU/s400/100_3105.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bQkSGuKgI/AAAAAAAAC00/_ozoX8fwpn0/s1600-h/100_3110.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149532545698638338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bQkSGuKgI/AAAAAAAAC00/_ozoX8fwpn0/s400/100_3110.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt; I Love My Brother&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-1089550371370519281?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/1089550371370519281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=1089550371370519281' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1089550371370519281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1089550371370519281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/what-happens-when-big-brother-babysits.html' title='What Happens When Big Brother Babysits?'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bQjyGuKfI/AAAAAAAAC0s/wtXVrnzscKU/s72-c/100_3105.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-3119351042019235236</id><published>2007-12-29T14:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T14:52:28.552-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Needs A Play Kitchen?</title><content type='html'>I bought a play kitchen for Colt and Dane when they were small. But truly, if you let your little ones be part of your kitchen, who really needs a fake kitchen? It doesn't give them the same reality as using our kitchens and food items do. Mind you, it is tidier!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Briton has a blast going into my pantry. He will regularly go in there and find potatoes and onions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149530320905578930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bOiyGuKbI/AAAAAAAAC0M/0QbHrNoJF2E/s400/100_3097.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Cutting His Potatoes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He stands there for the longest time peeling the outer layers off the onions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149530338085448130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bOjyGuKcI/AAAAAAAAC0U/V5wS3X0ZQOQ/s400/100_3098.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Peeling the Onions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then he uses my bowls to mix up his concoctions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149530355265317330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bOkyGuKdI/AAAAAAAAC0c/o1--AWhklSk/s400/100_3099.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally, he cooks it all in his little toaster oven. He loves to turn the timer and hear it making its noise. His big brother complains about the fact that I let him do this as Briton is not too neat about picking up his onion skins! *smile* And of course, Dane often ends up cleaning it up. What are big brothers for?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149530372445186530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bOlyGuKeI/AAAAAAAAC0k/_rfM2y5cLXo/s400/100_3100.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-3119351042019235236?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/3119351042019235236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=3119351042019235236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/3119351042019235236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/3119351042019235236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/who-needs-play-kitchen.html' title='Who Needs A Play Kitchen?'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bOiyGuKbI/AAAAAAAAC0M/0QbHrNoJF2E/s72-c/100_3097.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-1325771937656093964</id><published>2007-12-29T14:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T14:26:03.235-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Mess With Big Brother</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt; Briton knows how to hold his own with his brothers. One day he decided to tease his biggest brother, Colt (16).  He grabbed a towel and tried flicking him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149524269296658722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bJCiGuKSI/AAAAAAAACzE/R50IAnLWDP4/s400/100_3019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bJDCGuKTI/AAAAAAAACzM/GvEfE4OO9Xg/s1600-h/100_3020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149524277886593330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bJDCGuKTI/AAAAAAAACzM/GvEfE4OO9Xg/s400/100_3020.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt; Get Me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bJDSGuKUI/AAAAAAAACzU/Kzlv7WApjnc/s1600-h/100_3021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149524282181560642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bJDSGuKUI/AAAAAAAACzU/Kzlv7WApjnc/s400/100_3021.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Tongue Sticking Out - Teasing Big Bro'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bJDyGuKVI/AAAAAAAACzc/FKK6yPJC95w/s1600-h/000_0034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149524290771495250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bJDyGuKVI/AAAAAAAACzc/FKK6yPJC95w/s400/000_0034.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt; Don't Mess With Big Bro!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Briton knows how to hold his own with his brothers. One day he decided to tease his biggest brother, Colt (16).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-1325771937656093964?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/1325771937656093964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=1325771937656093964' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1325771937656093964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1325771937656093964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/dont-mess-with-big-brother.html' title='Don&apos;t Mess With Big Brother'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bJCiGuKSI/AAAAAAAACzE/R50IAnLWDP4/s72-c/100_3019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-397815652235348436</id><published>2007-12-29T14:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T14:19:18.845-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Homeschool Fashion</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Kids in school have the misfortune of having to conform to the standards that are held by the rest of the crowd. Homeschool kids have the blessing of being able to dress anyway they like - and they do! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149522272136866066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bHOSGuKRI/AAAAAAAACy8/o_NT9HMajkQ/s400/100_3095.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And WHO Dressed Him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bGwyGuKPI/AAAAAAAACys/a6A7cNDCqeo/s1600-h/100_3223.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149521765330725106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bGwyGuKPI/AAAAAAAACys/a6A7cNDCqeo/s400/100_3223.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Army Gear and Scruffy Coats&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bGCyGuKII/AAAAAAAACx0/sF3lpO-wtto/s1600-h/100_2852.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149520975056742530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bGCyGuKII/AAAAAAAACx0/sF3lpO-wtto/s400/100_2852.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mismatched Footwear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bGDSGuKJI/AAAAAAAACx8/TjokkGLqGwo/s1600-h/100_2853.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149520983646677138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bGDSGuKJI/AAAAAAAACx8/TjokkGLqGwo/s400/100_2853.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bGDiGuKKI/AAAAAAAACyE/jWiMAOUp10M/s1600-h/100_2898.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149520987941644450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bGDiGuKKI/AAAAAAAACyE/jWiMAOUp10M/s400/100_2898.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Little Brother's Ski Pants, Runners, Dad's Gloves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bGECGuKLI/AAAAAAAACyM/1MP5JYtr-zI/s1600-h/100_2899.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149520996531579058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bGECGuKLI/AAAAAAAACyM/1MP5JYtr-zI/s400/100_2899.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Dad's Shoes, Three Hats, Big Brother Pants&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids in school have the misfortune of having to conform to the standards that are held by the rest of the crowd. Homeschool kids have the blessing of being able to dress anyway they like - and they do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149522267841898754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bHOCGuKQI/AAAAAAAACy0/CsaRf_L2tYU/s400/100_3111.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Giraffe in School?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-397815652235348436?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/397815652235348436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=397815652235348436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/397815652235348436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/397815652235348436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/homeschool-fashion.html' title='Homeschool Fashion'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bHOSGuKRI/AAAAAAAACy8/o_NT9HMajkQ/s72-c/100_3095.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-6492900624139862065</id><published>2007-12-29T09:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T14:05:28.198-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wings McGee</title><content type='html'>This fall the boys found a crow limping around our back yard. Dane arrived at the back door carrying this crow! My first reaction was GERMS!!! Get rid of it!! Over the back fence!! Out out out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149512290632869938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3a-JSGuKDI/AAAAAAAACxM/eX7YAvrLcNU/s400/100_2837.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys sorrowfully trailed after Dane out the door, through the yard and over to the fence that leads to the woods. Then Dane said, "What about the vet. Can't we ask him what to do?" They figured the bird had broken a wing. I continued with my mantra - Germs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, as they were near the fence, I felt like a crumb. So I called to them to stop and told them I would call the vet and see what he said. Upon calling them they said that we wouldn't get germs from it and we could try to help it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the boys got the dog cage and some food and water and put the bird in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149512299222804546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3a-JyGuKEI/AAAAAAAACxU/L02jtkivJgw/s400/100_2838.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still insisted on them covering up and wearing hand coverings! I wasn't taking any chances on some dreaded lurgy coming from this crow! *smile*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149517848320551026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bDMyGuKHI/AAAAAAAACxs/pY50lieRHXw/s400/100_2844.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149517844025583714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bDMiGuKGI/AAAAAAAACxk/7YiUoYnDtLU/s400/100_2843.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149517831140681810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3bDLyGuKFI/AAAAAAAACxc/sXMm_GmNrvk/s400/100_2841.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We saw that the bird had broken his feathers on one wing. In a few days we realized that there was no way this bird was going to grow back his wings very quickly. He was not going to be happy being cooped up and so we ended up letting him go. Hopefully he made it. We did see his friends hanging around when we were near the cage. I had heard that crows are very loyal. I think it is true. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-6492900624139862065?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/6492900624139862065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=6492900624139862065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/6492900624139862065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/6492900624139862065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/wings-mcgee.html' title='Wings McGee'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3a-JSGuKDI/AAAAAAAACxM/eX7YAvrLcNU/s72-c/100_2837.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-6888568605227552439</id><published>2007-12-29T08:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T08:48:19.934-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Own Birthday Planner</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Cassidy has such a good heart. He always takes charge of making Ray's and my birthdays! I remember once when he was six years old. I was feeling a little down cause it appeared that Ray had forgotten my birthday. Of course he hadn't. But as any girl knows they want their husband to acknowledge their birthday at the beginning of the day - not the end. So there was Cassidy running around the house and setting up the basement - complete with throne and balloons and presents and all kinds of good things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;At one point, he came past me and he asked me where the balloons were. Of course I didn't let on I knew what he was up to. * smile* At the end of the day he and his brothers led me downstairs to a wonderful party. I sat in my throne as each of them gave me his present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Our oldest was a bit upset because I even had to help make my own present *grin*! Cassidy didn't know how to make a photo frame with wood and the gluegun, and he wanted help making it - so I did. Colt did not think that was right. I was okay with it! I loved their love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Here are some recent pictures of birthdays this past year that Cassidy has taken on. For my birthday, the boys went shopping with me, and I had to keep my eyes averted as they loaded things in the shopping cart - it was a bit anxious for me because I had *no* idea what price tag they were carrying! Seriously!! At one point, I (through my peripheral vision) noticed that there was a nice doll (said funny things and was meant for a woman) on the bottom of the cart - this was $20. One child's gift. I had to very creatively figure a way to show that it wasn't the greatest idea. Oh, the stress of shopping for your own gifts!! LOL!! But our children are so thoughtful and want to do their shopping, by themselves, and in advance of our birthdays. They don't rely on their dad and therefore, I end up helping them. *smile*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;At one point, as we are going through the store, Cooper (4) chooses something off the shelf and tells Cassidy (the organizer) that he wants it cause "I want it for my birthday," and off he walks. He kept insisting that it was 'for my birthday'. Cassidy knew it was not something I would want *smile*, and Cooper had to find something for me, so he had to diplomatically return it to the shelf. Cooper was not impressed as he figured he could shop for his birthday at the same time as they were shopping for mine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;On my birthday, Cooper insisted on opening the gift he gave me. He was pleased to see what he bought!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149432030579009474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3Z1JiGuJ8I/AAAAAAAACwU/FUG3zVspYVM/s400/100_1902.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Opening Mum's Gift&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Austin shopped independently and did not heed Cassidy's advice. So when I opened my gift I was surprised to find such an interesting gift!!! He is still waiting for his daddy to make it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149432039168944082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3Z1KCGuJ9I/AAAAAAAACwc/ViIXCbI20mU/s400/000_0009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Thrilled With His Choice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149432021989074866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3Z1JCGuJ7I/AAAAAAAACwM/tOs9ntN3fxg/s400/100_1901.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Happy Little Gift Givers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149432013399140258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3Z1IiGuJ6I/AAAAAAAACwE/pL9cgAoVWMY/s400/100_1899.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Cassidy and His Cake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149432004809205650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3Z1ICGuJ5I/AAAAAAAACv8/9SBelRFl-FU/s400/100_1898.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Proud Young Man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He was very creative with his candles. He used 3 candles and put a paper number 10 beside them - to signify 30. Then he put a flashing number 9. Then a paper number 1 with one candle. He thought I was 40 (not 41). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149433477982988258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3Z2dyGuJ-I/AAAAAAAACwk/MEE5GfgWKD8/s400/000_0012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;My Considerate Sons!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Colt made a beautiful table top mirror in his woodwork class and gave that to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The cutest thing was a card they gave me. The inside said: &lt;em&gt;We thought we'd make you the designated driver.&lt;/em&gt; They had no idea what that meant. Cassidy just found a card in the computer program and liked the front of it, and so figured the inside went along with the outside! *grin*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149433490867890162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3Z2eiGuJ_I/AAAAAAAACws/i7imu4wY_YA/s400/000_0018.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;How Blessed I Am to Have Such Wonderful Sons!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When Ray had his birthday, Cassidy was at work with him that week. One day, he shot in the door right after work and set into the kitchen immediatley. This is a ten year old boy! I love the fact that he is comfortable in the kitchen and can follow any recipe and does a fine job!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149436286891599874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3Z5BSGuKAI/AAAAAAAACw0/BzJ96APxqT0/s400/100_2470.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149436291186567186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3Z5BiGuKBI/AAAAAAAACw8/gCkKcqqk9RE/s400/100_2472.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Wearing the Traditional Birthday Hat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149436299776501794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3Z5CCGuKCI/AAAAAAAACxE/rm6ERfvhOrk/s400/100_2473.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We figured if we got him a big enough flashlight the kids couldn't make off with it!! They haven't - the rechargeable cord has gone missing! *laugh* You can't win!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It is time for us to buy Cassidy cake decorating tools and take him to the next level!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-6888568605227552439?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/6888568605227552439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=6888568605227552439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/6888568605227552439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/6888568605227552439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/our-own-birthday-planner.html' title='Our Own Birthday Planner'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3Z1JiGuJ8I/AAAAAAAACwU/FUG3zVspYVM/s72-c/100_1902.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-8636717696681296893</id><published>2007-12-28T18:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T19:29:43.865-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall Fun Day - mid November</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;In our family we have nothing to do with halloween. Some years we do nothing and other years we have come up with a variety of fun things to do. This year we had a Fall Fun Day. The kids all had fun dressing up in these neat animal costumes I bought this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149224648083121778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W4iSGuJnI/AAAAAAAACts/IuJ4fKcSM2k/s400/100_3176.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Sweet Breakfast&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fun began with the boys having all kinds of dessert for breakfast. Why not break the rules on Fall Fun Day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cassidy and Dane didn't fit the costumes and kind of waited until the last minute to come up with any costumes. Dane came as a bed, complete with teddy bear and pillow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149224656673056386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W4iyGuJoI/AAAAAAAACt0/pwLbGaX0kRM/s400/100_3180.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Dane the Bed &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149224665262990994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W4jSGuJpI/AAAAAAAACt8/aZvrwJzpeFg/s400/100_3181.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Pumpkin Crafts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149224669557958306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W4jiGuJqI/AAAAAAAACuE/Q7xAoybcY7A/s400/100_3182.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Cupcake Decorating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149230807066224514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W-IyGuJ4I/AAAAAAAACv0/1Fs4nzAyjpg/s400/100_3185.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149225807724291778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W5lyGuJsI/AAAAAAAACuU/4JrEoVxqtY8/s400/100_3186.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Baby Pumpkin Carving&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colt came home from school and decided to come as a rock star. It was an easy costume for him, since he owns an electric guitar and leather jacket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149227517121275698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W7JSGuJzI/AAAAAAAACvM/ADyXmSef7hM/s400/100_3204.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Rock Star and Fan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cassidy kept coming up with ideas that he couldn't complete in time for our fun time, so in desperation he decided to come as a fan. A girl fan. *grin* The boys got a real kick out of his antics. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149227508531341090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W7IyGuJyI/AAAAAAAACvE/YHlA_Gha4lY/s400/100_3201.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149227504236373778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W7IiGuJxI/AAAAAAAACu8/Rhgb-sAbbzg/s400/100_3197.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149227495646439170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W7ICGuJwI/AAAAAAAACu0/9zwwuTAEg-8/s400/100_3194.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Pizza Party&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We then had a pizza party complete with pizza, orange pop, and orange nacho chips. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149225812019259090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W5mCGuJtI/AAAAAAAACuc/89XsHpS-m40/s400/100_3190.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149225816314226402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W5mSGuJuI/AAAAAAAACuk/hJyruPaT70Q/s400/100_3191.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149225820609193714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W5miGuJvI/AAAAAAAACus/MXopjeBYY-4/s400/100_3192.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Pizza Party&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we had eaten our dinner the boys had a jello and whipped cream and vanilla pudding eating contest - no hands!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149227521416243010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W7JiGuJ0I/AAAAAAAACvU/vKZ9o_q5nP8/s400/100_3205.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Jello Eating Contest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149228835676235602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W8WCGuJ1I/AAAAAAAACvc/W9sjit-85To/s400/100_3209.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Get Set - Go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149228844266170210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W8WiGuJ2I/AAAAAAAACvk/3BwGGE3MLr4/s400/100_3215.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;The Last Player - Determined to Finish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;After the dessert the boys and I played a trivia game. For each correct answer that any of them got they each got candies in their bag. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149228848561137522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W8WyGuJ3I/AAAAAAAACvs/CceAB9VD_Dw/s400/100_3217.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Our boys don't get candy through the year, so they were happy to have a place to earn it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-8636717696681296893?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/8636717696681296893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=8636717696681296893' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/8636717696681296893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/8636717696681296893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/fall-fun-day-mid-november.html' title='Fall Fun Day - mid November'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3W4iSGuJnI/AAAAAAAACts/IuJ4fKcSM2k/s72-c/100_3176.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-5078040513288569261</id><published>2007-12-28T13:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T14:18:58.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>St. Nicholas Day</title><content type='html'>This is a little out of order, but I wanted to post it anyway. As I mentioned before, we celebrate St. Nicholas Day on December 6. This makes a really busy week, as we have December 4 and 5th for two children's birthdays! This year we decided that we should just take the week off school and focus on FUN for the week!! One of the joys of homeschooling - call your own holidays!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;On the Saturday, around the 6th, we took the children to a town a couple hours from where we live. We could do some good last minute Christmas shopping, plus take them to a hotel for the night. We love to do that once a year, so that they can swim in the pool and play in the waterslides. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So off we went. We got there and immediatley went to Costco shopping. From there we took the kids to see Enchanted at the movies. It was 'fine' but definitely not what I was expecting. The little ones liked it and even Colt, but I am sure there were other Christmas movies more up the big boys alley! *smile*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;After this, we headed to our hotel and swimming. It was now 11:00 pm, but we knew the next day would be busy so we had to take them swimming that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149147776758457810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VynyGuJdI/AAAAAAAACsc/uiG7cOzMLo4/s400/100_3315.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys had a blast in the waterslide; Briton was so tired that he only played a few minutes before he sat zoned out in the hot tub.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149147781053425122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VyoCGuJeI/AAAAAAAACsk/2f1qqv8wi7U/s400/100_3316.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night when I tucked Cooper into bed, I whispered in his ear that St. Nicholas would be coming that night. We had not pointed out the date to the kids, so they weren't even thinking St. Nicholas. They just knew it was coming soon. He quickly shut his eyes and was asleep in minutes. Briton was oblivious to it all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149147785348392434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VyoSGuJfI/AAAAAAAACss/jD_U8aMaQM0/s400/100_3319.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149147789643359746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VyoiGuJgI/AAAAAAAACs0/pYYFBzZxp4s/s400/100_3324.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever seen the &lt;em&gt;Grinch Who Stole Christmas&lt;/em&gt;? Well, read between the lines here. Do you remember those moments when Santa was filling the stockings and the little girl came into the room and Santa was caught filling the stockings?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, suffice it to say, in our hotel room, there were a few close calls. Moments when Santa stood stock still, barely breathing, hoping the sleeping child would turn over the 'other way' when they began shifting in their bed! I am sure Santa couldn't fill stockings with the lights off, so 'he' had to risk discovery and keep at work until 'his' job was done! In a life of make belief, that would have been a horrible way to 'find out' - and so Santa had to diligently keep at work until 'his' job was done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning when the older boys came from their room next door, they were sure surprised to see what awaited them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149151242797065794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3V1xiGuJkI/AAAAAAAACtU/wlal3ZVK2iQ/s400/100_3334.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149150504062690850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3V1GiGuJiI/AAAAAAAACtE/T7HzUx2_5PQ/s400/100_3335.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we took the kids Christmas shopping and then surprised them with a second movie: Fred Claus. THAT was a good movie. Where we live there are no movie cinemas, so this was a real treat to see two movies in a big theatre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149150508357658162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3V1GyGuJjI/AAAAAAAACtM/MEyaf5Rz__c/s400/100_3345.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Waiting For the Movie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the movie, we headed home. It was a blizzard by now and the roads were covered, but we got home in good time. It was a great St. Nicholas Day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-5078040513288569261?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/5078040513288569261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=5078040513288569261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/5078040513288569261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/5078040513288569261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/st-nicholas-day.html' title='St. Nicholas Day'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VynyGuJdI/AAAAAAAACsc/uiG7cOzMLo4/s72-c/100_3315.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-3780977192829055006</id><published>2007-12-28T13:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T13:53:55.202-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VwOCGuJYI/AAAAAAAACr0/sKeJjX_iANE/s1600-h/100_3613.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149145135353570690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VwOCGuJYI/AAAAAAAACr0/sKeJjX_iANE/s400/100_3613.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149145143943505298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VwOiGuJZI/AAAAAAAACr8/qQ91JSqSV2g/s400/100_3615.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the next two days, the kids had fun playing hockey with Uncle Dave and Niva. On the 28th it was time to say goodbye. It is always sad for the boys because living five hours apart, and having to contend with work schedules, the kids don't get to see Uncle Dave and Auntie Mandy as often as they would like. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149145148238472610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VwOyGuJaI/AAAAAAAACsE/FrnL-EYUHcY/s400/100_3617.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149145152533439922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VwPCGuJbI/AAAAAAAACsM/a335yagqNMI/s400/100_3618.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-3780977192829055006?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/3780977192829055006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=3780977192829055006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/3780977192829055006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/3780977192829055006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/last-day.html' title='Last Day'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VwOCGuJYI/AAAAAAAACr0/sKeJjX_iANE/s72-c/100_3613.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-1609199313060379921</id><published>2007-12-28T13:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T13:50:03.934-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149137979938055378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VptiGuJNI/AAAAAAAACqc/Z9jPKg9IBZs/s400/100_3555.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;An Early Morning Hockey Game&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I set out making Christmas dinner early on Christmas morning, so by the time my parents and sister had arrived, most of the prep work was done. There was still lots of last minute stuff to do, though. What was nice was what happened when they arrived. Ever since we immigrated from England when I was small, my mother has done Christmas dinner on her own. We arrive, but she has it all under control. It is what she is used to. And I think - what she prefers. But me, well, I do not cook because I like to. I cook because if I don't, I think the people in my house would mutiny!! And so I would prefer the group effort, rather than having people chatting in the livingroom while I am putting on the dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As our family has increased in size, and as my sister has had her children, my mother's house - where we have always done Christmas - has grown increasingly smaller. So this year, we agreed that we would do dinner and festivities at our house. We have tons of space, and there is room for every group who wants to break off to have somewhere to go, and you don't feel that you are overrun with children!! *grin*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149137992822957314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VpuSGuJQI/AAAAAAAACq0/ljXeQQCuItY/s400/100_3558.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, when they all arrived it was kind of neat. My mum was called on to help with the veggies and the roast potatoes. She has a way of making the best roast potatoes and we all end up fighting over them (sort of, we don't get too physical *grin*). My dad was needed to make the stuffing to how he has always done it. And my sister was doing all the other leftover jobs. So, soon everyone had a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149137984233022690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VptyGuJOI/AAAAAAAACqk/dtlcl9BgdKM/s400/100_3557.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149137988527990002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VpuCGuJPI/AAAAAAAACqs/5GM3i4ldQlI/s400/100_3559.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I much prefer this method to the one person putting on dinner. It is so much more fun and just feels like a real group effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My smart aleck brother *smile* was sitting at the counter watching us all work and all of a sudden, he found this list on the counter - &lt;em&gt;To Do List For Mandy&lt;/em&gt; - this is my sister. She was coming to help put on the dinner, but her list was not for the dinner hour; it was for the tea time (later in the evening). So Mr. Smartie decides to make sure that Mandy is doing her list. I can't describe it, but suffice it to say, it was funny. He made it clear that he would supervise as that is what he has been doing for the last number of years on job sites. A lot of brother/sister/sister laughing and joking. It was fun to be all together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149139543306151218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VrIiGuJTI/AAAAAAAACrM/zTdXhd6GId4/s400/100_3565.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Before too long, he too was pitching in washing dishes. I think he realized he might not eat unless he did!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149144108856386930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VvSSGuJXI/AAAAAAAACrs/KczhwalxeSY/s400/100_3585.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Granny Helping Briton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149138001412891922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VpuyGuJRI/AAAAAAAACq8/yt899QMOqF0/s400/100_3560.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Wee One's Dinner Time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149139539011183906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VrISGuJSI/AAAAAAAACrE/pDR3iGLNigE/s400/100_3562.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Serving the Troops&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149139560486020434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VrJiGuJVI/AAAAAAAACrc/BGmIXhZo06Y/s400/100_3570.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;The Little One's Table&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Somehow, I missed taking a picture of the big boys' table! Too bad!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149139564780987746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VrJyGuJWI/AAAAAAAACrk/aj2KcuwhBsc/s400/100_3572.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;The Adults and One Young Mischief Maker&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was a wonderful Christmas dinner, and so nice to all be together. That night, while the wee children were in bed and the big boys were playing the newest fun - Buzz Junior (got to check that out!) the adults all sat up in the kitchen, til 2:00 am talking, discussing, debating. At one point, my dad said, &lt;em&gt;"Well, now that we have solved all the world's problems...."&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This was funny cause you know how volatile conversations can get while discussing: religion, politics - Bush in Iraq, global warming, etc - well it didn't. We had some pretty intense conversation and it was great fun! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was a wonderful night and I look forward to our next family gathering. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-1609199313060379921?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/1609199313060379921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=1609199313060379921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1609199313060379921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/1609199313060379921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/christmas-day.html' title='Christmas Day'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VptiGuJNI/AAAAAAAACqc/Z9jPKg9IBZs/s72-c/100_3555.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-249401829688116878</id><published>2007-12-28T12:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T13:14:39.948-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Eve</title><content type='html'>In our family, we have worked our way through many ideas as to how to handle Christmas. Ray grew up with gift opening at midnight on Christmas Eve. My family opened them on Christmas Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the boys were little we went my way: opening them on Christmas morning. It made more sense that way, since they were too small to stay up late. Then when they got older and we were getting together with my family on Christmas Day we began to change our traditions. Now we opened our families gifts on Christmas Eve, after coming home from the Christmas Eve service. This is about 9:00 pm. The boys end up going to bed at midnight. And then they sleep in the next morning, while I get up and begin the turkey preparations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another change we made a few years ago, was to celebrate St. Nicholas Day. It has always bothered me how the boys were so focused on Santa Claus. No matter what we did, because we did Santa Claus, they always looked forward to the gifts. This took the focus off Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years ago, I heard about St. Nicholas Day - December 6. I loved the idea!! So now we celebrate St. Nicholas on his day. They put out their stockings the night before, and then the next day is all about St. Nicholas. Just a simple day. They have all month to enjoy their gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after that is over, we begin focusing on the "Reason for the Season - Jesus". Through the rest of the month, we do a variety of Christmas activities. One thing we did this year for the first time was sending gifts to other countries. We got the World Vision gift catalogue and the kids poured over that for days! They were each given $100 to spend and it took a lot of thought to decide how to stretch their money to cover as many people as possible. They were very excited and earnest in their discussions and final decisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149121199500829666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VacyGuI-I/AAAAAAAACok/aQPNuz7jbZY/s400/100_3521.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149122299012457458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VbcyGuI_I/AAAAAAAACos/sFtdIM2zudE/s400/100_3619.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;World Vision Tree&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Christmas Eve, the children were each given their envelopes from World Vision and they got to hang their ornament on the World Vision tree on our kitchen wall. To add to this, we bought my parents and my sister's family gifts, also. My sister received 25 coats, hats, gloves for children and my parents had the pleasure of immunizing an entire community!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that was done the children grouped in the livingroom and we did our gift exchange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149124227452773378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VdNCGuJAI/AAAAAAAACo0/-qRgNIP016U/s400/100_3522.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"I'm A Present," said Cooper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149124244632642626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VdOCGuJEI/AAAAAAAACpU/Ly8mPelDdmc/s400/100_3532.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;It's Life!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story behind this gift is what Cassidy did this summer. He went to a friend's house for the night while we were at an adoption seminar. He played the game of life *once*, and when he came home he reproduced the game *perfectly* from memory. He and his brothers then proceeded to play this game over the last few months!! It was such a pleasure, in a such a materialistic world, to see our children cluster around a loved, but wrinkled sheet of paper, to play Life, with the most unlikely game pieces!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149126061403808850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3Ve3yGuJFI/AAAAAAAACpc/A2AFc3oQUEc/s400/100_3415.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Homemade Life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149124231747740690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VdNSGuJBI/AAAAAAAACo8/wMNywuNCQPE/s400/100_3524.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A Gift From Cooper to Honey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cooper is my cutie. He is such a loving little boy. Ever since I can remember he has called me, "Honey." I don't use that term, nor does Ray, so I don't know where he gets it from. He doesn't often call me 'Mummy'. I have always liked the fact that he has his own name for me. It is very sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The other day I suddenly realized where it probably came from. When he was tiny, he had two favourite movies - we are talking about the time between 2 and 3 years of age. They were Matilda and Black Beauty. He would ask for his movies by these names: 'horse' or 'honey'. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the movie 'Matilda', there is a little girl and her beloved teacher, Miss Honey. It dawned on me the other day, that there is a good chance that in his subconscious he thinks of me as the Miss Honey in his life - and he is the Matilda. Might sound far fetched but in a little boys mind where his mummy is the one who does everything for him, it seems reasonable. All the same I am his 'honey'. *smile*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149124236042708002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VdNiGuJCI/AAAAAAAACpE/vN-BdVBUK80/s400/100_3525.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Dancing With Delight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Briton was thrilled with Memere's gift of bulky crayons! He loves to colour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149124240337675314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VdNyGuJDI/AAAAAAAACpM/pdXTTZPHf-U/s400/100_3527.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Briton Helping Daddy With His Stocking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149130888947049634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VjQyGuJKI/AAAAAAAACqE/DQ2AhAFycEU/s400/100_3537.jpg" border="0" /&gt; When we were in California Cooper played with one of these at the Flight Simulator where Dane was flying. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149130893242016946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VjRCGuJLI/AAAAAAAACqM/igbKx_XnHc8/s400/100_3538.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cassidy is reading the book, "The Great Brain," and on Christmas Eve he came to me and asked me what an 'erector set' was (this was mentioned in the book) - well, actually, he came and asked me what a 'rectal set' was. We all had a laugh and then I gave him the correct vocabulary!! *grin* I explained what it was. It was very exciting that night when he opened his gift and found he had received an erector set. And no, he did not find out early. I had wrapped it when I brought it home, so there was no knowing ahead of time. Just a neat coincidence!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149130897536984258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VjRSGuJMI/AAAAAAAACqU/rxfUdCb6coI/s400/100_3534.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Dane is our resident pilot. He was thrilled with his remote control F15 (I think that is what it is). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-249401829688116878?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/249401829688116878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=249401829688116878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/249401829688116878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/249401829688116878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/christmas-eve.html' title='Christmas Eve'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VacyGuI-I/AAAAAAAACok/aQPNuz7jbZY/s72-c/100_3521.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-2819472465145093753</id><published>2007-12-28T12:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T12:05:41.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas is About Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My parents, brother, sister, and her family came for Christmas. It was nice treat since my brother doesn't often make it up here at Christmas. So we were all together this year. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When my brother arrived, Austin realized he did not have a gift for his uncle. This concerned him greatly, and so I told him he could make him a gift. He arrived downstairs shortly after with his brand-new art kit. This was his main present; something he cherishes because he loves to draw. I thought he wanted to open the kit to get out the supplies, so he could make a gift. I was wrong. He was asking me for paper, so he could wrap the gift to give to his uncle. This was such a loving gesture!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149117346915165138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VW8iGuI9I/AAAAAAAACoc/40QHzMDPNZ0/s400/100_3561.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When his uncle found out what Austin wanted to do, I could see he was so very touched at the selflessness of this child. He truly received a gift in that thought! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course, he would not let Austin give his gift. Austin would not let that be, so he kept searching the house for something that he could give his uncle. Finally, he gave him the booklight he had received for Christmas - another very special gift. He is a very loving child - a real encourager!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-2819472465145093753?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/2819472465145093753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=2819472465145093753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/2819472465145093753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/2819472465145093753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/christmas-is-about-love.html' title='Christmas is About Love'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VW8iGuI9I/AAAAAAAACoc/40QHzMDPNZ0/s72-c/100_3561.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-6937875991916531654</id><published>2007-12-28T11:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T11:44:29.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cousins</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VRbiGuI0I/AAAAAAAACnU/OueevygrZFI/s1600-h/100_3584.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149111282421343042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VRbiGuI0I/AAAAAAAACnU/OueevygrZFI/s400/100_3584.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tea Time Snack - Niva and Cooper&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VRbyGuI1I/AAAAAAAACnc/Va4aSbp6OTo/s1600-h/100_3605.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149111286716310354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VRbyGuI1I/AAAAAAAACnc/Va4aSbp6OTo/s400/100_3605.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt; Dane and Ahria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VRcCGuI2I/AAAAAAAACnk/AnAs5ORQ6sc/s1600-h/100_3616.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149111291011277666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VRcCGuI2I/AAAAAAAACnk/AnAs5ORQ6sc/s400/100_3616.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Skating Cousins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-6937875991916531654?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/6937875991916531654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=6937875991916531654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/6937875991916531654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/6937875991916531654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/cousins.html' title='Cousins'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VRbiGuI0I/AAAAAAAACnU/OueevygrZFI/s72-c/100_3584.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-7506790108954236979</id><published>2007-12-28T11:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T11:50:59.665-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Pictures of Our Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VPayGuIvI/AAAAAAAACms/ORmAMYNfNU4/s1600-h/100_3515.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149109070513185522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VPayGuIvI/AAAAAAAACms/ORmAMYNfNU4/s400/100_3515.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Our Little Ones All Decked Out for Christmas Eve Service&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VPbSGuIwI/AAAAAAAACm0/FUbX-GtQkl0/s1600-h/100_3574.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149109079103120130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VPbSGuIwI/AAAAAAAACm0/FUbX-GtQkl0/s400/100_3574.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt; Our Family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VPbiGuIxI/AAAAAAAACm8/ASqE-ftF6xo/s1600-h/rayandjcloseup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149109083398087442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VPbiGuIxI/AAAAAAAACm8/ASqE-ftF6xo/s400/rayandjcloseup.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt; Ray and Justine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VPbyGuIyI/AAAAAAAACnE/J1H9lhDSjpo/s1600-h/100_3579.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149109087693054754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VPbyGuIyI/AAAAAAAACnE/J1H9lhDSjpo/s400/100_3579.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt; My Sister's Family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VPcCGuIzI/AAAAAAAACnM/hWY1bDX81Nw/s1600-h/100_3586.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149109091988022066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VPcCGuIzI/AAAAAAAACnM/hWY1bDX81Nw/s400/100_3586.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Granny, Colt, and Dane&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149113180796887938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VTKCGuI4I/AAAAAAAACn0/gFXJ0Azp9U4/s400/100_3587.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Grandad and Briton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-7506790108954236979?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/7506790108954236979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=7506790108954236979' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/7506790108954236979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/7506790108954236979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/christmas-pictures-of-our-family.html' title='Christmas Pictures of Our Family'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VPayGuIvI/AAAAAAAACms/ORmAMYNfNU4/s72-c/100_3515.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-8853108785711767214</id><published>2007-12-28T11:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T11:28:12.345-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Elf?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VOKiGuIuI/AAAAAAAACmk/n_dwrO-T0lw/s1600-h/100_3300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149107691828683490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VOKiGuIuI/AAAAAAAACmk/n_dwrO-T0lw/s400/100_3300.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; We Have Our Own Elf!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-8853108785711767214?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/8853108785711767214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=8853108785711767214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/8853108785711767214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/8853108785711767214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/elf.html' title='An Elf?'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VOKiGuIuI/AAAAAAAACmk/n_dwrO-T0lw/s72-c/100_3300.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-6298152716284838992</id><published>2007-12-28T11:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T11:25:40.021-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gingerbread House Destruction</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VMiCGuIqI/AAAAAAAACmE/ycB7QcAY_j8/s1600-h/100_3599.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;After Christmas, the boys were allowed to eat their gingerbread houses. Their cousin, Niva, was visiting and she brought one with her that she built with the children's granny - my mum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149105896532353698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VMiCGuIqI/AAAAAAAACmE/ycB7QcAY_j8/s400/100_3599.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Ready.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149105909417255634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VMiyGuItI/AAAAAAAACmc/kEc-PtrTNrQ/s400/100_3602.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Set.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149105905122288322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VMiiGuIsI/AAAAAAAACmU/yeGyOFJ8sbo/s400/100_3601.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Go!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149105900827321010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VMiSGuIrI/AAAAAAAACmM/k5hXmyL7hps/s400/100_3600.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Oh! The Sugar!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-6298152716284838992?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/6298152716284838992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=6298152716284838992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/6298152716284838992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/6298152716284838992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/2007/12/gingerbread-house-destruction.html' title='Gingerbread House Destruction'/><author><name>Is Eight Enough?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17107921111882348777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R-U2mnFq5GI/AAAAAAAADPg/zcpNwX6D0jE/S220/100_3350.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VMiCGuIqI/AAAAAAAACmE/ycB7QcAY_j8/s72-c/100_3599.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29309888.post-7365277025362436309</id><published>2007-12-28T07:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T15:22:10.417-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Loving the Rink</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149072026420257378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3UtuiGuImI/AAAAAAAAClo/jFyGOeDXgIo/s400/100_3510.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Little Gretzkey?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The rink we built is wonderful! Since we moved from the country to the town, we wanted to bring a bit of the country with us. Our kids don't roam the neighbourhood, therefore we wanted to make our yard appealing to them and their friends. We built a sportscourt for the summer and then the plan was to flood it for the winter. It works wonderfully and the boys are out there playing hockey everyday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149167967399716434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3WE_CGuJlI/AAAAAAAACtc/9t6QUzWISfo/s400/100_2542.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Summer Sports Court&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149077618467676818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3Uy0CGuIpI/AAAAAAAACl8/NujFx---rzQ/s400/100_3598.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Can't I Go YET?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149072009240388130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3UttiGuIiI/AAAAAAAAClQ/hbVeDtZe5ro/s400/100_3503.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Skating Pro Austin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149072022125290050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3UtuSGuIkI/AAAAAAAAClc/piIB7is8P4A/s400/100_3506.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Goalie Cooper &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149076566200689282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3Ux2yGuIoI/AAAAAAAACl0/D5gFvsWpokc/s400/100_3613.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Playing With Uncle Dave and Niva&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149112420587676530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IDc99cECQEM/R3VSdyGuI3I/AAAAAAAACns/IGeIecWfZB8/s400/100_3555.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Notice the clothes? Dane will go outside in any weather in shorts and t-shirt! He has always been this way. We don't put his shorts away at the end of summer. There is no end to him!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29309888-7365277025362436309?l=raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://raisingmyboysinthecountry.blogspot.com/feeds/7365277025362436309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29309888&amp;postID=7365277025362436309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29309888/posts/default/7365277025362436309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogge
