tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28428703947292973362024-02-20T02:41:00.435-07:00A Blog About GrandmaSomeone we all grow to love more and more each day...A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2842870394729297336.post-87587377375636553452010-04-11T19:27:00.008-07:002010-04-11T20:46:10.626-07:00Sleeping Bags<div align="center"></div><p align="center">My mom was going through the *trailer the other day and came across some gently used sleeping bags. Since I am in need of getting my "camping gear" ready for camping season, she thought to give them to me. I gladly accepted.</p><p align="center">I brought them home and found they smelled of old people (no offense grandma and grandpa but as you got older, you didn't have the best hygiene). I opened them up and found this...<br /></p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9r805mFtgUbu9Qtr-CX8LRjbK4bKIgUJ4J6zjIMBkdEm0l1q9V3vLH6wHi4XZ4xitjRVZztB6d90MDXIXqKSJn1kuQ73dRKC5qewmmLAgRjCM8H3aN7iyNlJ4TfplT4E6L-KyXLXtXVY/s1600/IMG_0326.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459073327586479394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9r805mFtgUbu9Qtr-CX8LRjbK4bKIgUJ4J6zjIMBkdEm0l1q9V3vLH6wHi4XZ4xitjRVZztB6d90MDXIXqKSJn1kuQ73dRKC5qewmmLAgRjCM8H3aN7iyNlJ4TfplT4E6L-KyXLXtXVY/s320/IMG_0326.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />All nicely tucked away was a sheet and a pillow in both of the sleeping bags. I took the sheet out of the first one so I could wash it and then I came to the second one. I was so astonished. The sheet and the pillowcase matched! Grandma had even sewed a little yellow and orange border on to the pillow for her special touch!</div><div align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6IhXj1IRIy0k7BEyqBEIyYlA-K480E65ds4gkTGlHa2sRAjRAmQumrgIzZrnmkNjt9oLLzEfH1A1qmjo4EqLodFRXEEhuq247DGEw7Srb-pRMFmU1WDo8UaxufRwS26vKKJte8XZbXrw/s1600/IMG_0327.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459073216001562946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 232px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6IhXj1IRIy0k7BEyqBEIyYlA-K480E65ds4gkTGlHa2sRAjRAmQumrgIzZrnmkNjt9oLLzEfH1A1qmjo4EqLodFRXEEhuq247DGEw7Srb-pRMFmU1WDo8UaxufRwS26vKKJte8XZbXrw/s320/IMG_0327.JPG" border="0" /></a>Grandma had even taken a sheet and sewed the sides and bottom together to fit perfectly into the sleeping bag. She also added ties to both the bottom of the sleeping and the bottom of the sheet to tie together. Not only was it tied together... <br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlKR1n7q4ltv8I-hEVxGORqe-XWCVbfxkVX-_n2X56IMXr8nuTpCpgI78CpMNlpCeomTl1-aCe-2BgPUFp3A92ZJ8L-SYAAF1kGZ4XcaLlwYv44CW3nRp9BsVAiahqDqUiU_gpEJmAMQ/s1600/IMG_0328.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459073204089048962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlKR1n7q4ltv8I-hEVxGORqe-XWCVbfxkVX-_n2X56IMXr8nuTpCpgI78CpMNlpCeomTl1-aCe-2BgPUFp3A92ZJ8L-SYAAF1kGZ4XcaLlwYv44CW3nRp9BsVAiahqDqUiU_gpEJmAMQ/s320/IMG_0328.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />It was tied with a BOW! (I swear I did not re-tie it to look like this)</div><div> </div><div>As I added the final sheet to the "wash" pile, I noticed that the sheet from the other sleeping bag matched these sheets but had a different color scheme.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEL8IFZEtSrTP5RbRIDIWkhuOJBdNHCFFumEGlA2SxZNFXM6qfcYcZmCbh2Lnc-npZRNmaf3nHpf1FdNLZjulk1cRWTuuDovoEsD4-yYRjGqkENnVK0oXvIlQX3wLoStSUlBfWma4Bs4A/s1600/IMG_0329.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459073020612768066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEL8IFZEtSrTP5RbRIDIWkhuOJBdNHCFFumEGlA2SxZNFXM6qfcYcZmCbh2Lnc-npZRNmaf3nHpf1FdNLZjulk1cRWTuuDovoEsD4-yYRjGqkENnVK0oXvIlQX3wLoStSUlBfWma4Bs4A/s320/IMG_0329.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div>All I could think was "I have the cutest Grandma in the whole entire world!" And I kept saying it over and over again... Because it is soooooo TRUE! I really do have the CUTEST GRANDMA in the WHOLE entire WORLD!!! </div></div><br /></div>A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2842870394729297336.post-30720400465152291892010-04-11T19:14:00.004-07:002010-04-11T19:26:42.544-07:00Rockin the FEDORA<div align="center">For those who don't know what a FEDORA hat is... Google Images "Justin Timberlake in fedora" you will find something like this...</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 233px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459071170940476098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtvpTe4ALu5qJgHZAOquQcf6iifBI9qAY4D7_Mxu5sItDYT861JJgapxBUyKwnmwKydoSW06QkqEirdwpKew3eb3mRs-rxhISQq6RG2Iv7rDW-ySe1K6Wjcxj9pTfsXD6ZSl0HvTyK7gQ/s320/justin.jpg" /><br /><br /><p align="center">One of my girlfriends talked me into buying one... So I brought it over and Grandma decided she needed to try it on. So whether she looks like a Mobster....<br /></p><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459070316988298306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNJM7ewYqjDjW1HTT7MLTWOj_tV09SccRHFzUTBP7yJyGoXlfNcHjlG_vebr1MMa-uHXPXdPt7oZiOv6O8oCu0YA4mqePPVmnpNemX2zIVSyLNEZudeRrJhWSsOrjwfYkMBcMgez_Eam0/s320/IMG_0216.JPG" /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWr0gjXNMUuM1xGW88k-58WhhsEnsEXO_yg50d0-CvZNo1UqOXYMsRMmNAFW8l34QduVptSe6Z_EncQ5easuii2-EbZ3EOnppceRBw_yi47DygrGCTr0jWWFiv1Pnj9jqcntA0x03GkU/s1600/IMG_0218.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 229px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459070331138249714" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWr0gjXNMUuM1xGW88k-58WhhsEnsEXO_yg50d0-CvZNo1UqOXYMsRMmNAFW8l34QduVptSe6Z_EncQ5easuii2-EbZ3EOnppceRBw_yi47DygrGCTr0jWWFiv1Pnj9jqcntA0x03GkU/s320/IMG_0218.JPG" /></a><br />Or the sweetest person in the world.... She can totally rock the fedora like Justin!<br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /></div>A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2842870394729297336.post-13090880535084676292010-03-29T10:23:00.002-07:002010-03-29T10:35:05.936-07:00Can't Recognize Me?!Just like most "stylish" women, I change my purses after a couple weeks to mix things up (I know some that change it daily, once again, I am NOT that "stylish"). So now I am sporting a simple white Dolce and Gabana (New York knock-off) purse. <br /> After work on Friday, I met up with my Mom and Grandma at Food City. As I am walking down the isle to meet them, Grandma looks at me and says- "I almost didn't recognize you without your <strong>yellow</strong> purse!" Who would have thought that my<strong> BIG YELLOW PURSE</strong> would be so embedded in my Grandmother's mind?? Sometimes she doesn't can't recall that she's living with my mom. Hey at least she is remembering me somehow! <br /><br />Do you think I should get Grandma her own <strong>yellow purse</strong>???A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2842870394729297336.post-52889514330361604822010-03-08T17:50:00.006-07:002010-03-08T18:13:25.630-07:00MATTA'S (its quite a tradition)<div><div><div><div>Here in Mesa... You're either a Matta's fan or an El Charro fan. We are most definately Matta's fans! If you haven't been to Matta's, please go! It is always on the agenda when Aunt Debbie is in town. She has been in town for two weeks now and we've already been twice! Last week (just a couple days ago), we decided that the girls needed a lunch day! GIRLS ONLY! NO BOYS! The girls included: My mother, Aunt Debbie, my sister-in-law Jen, myself, and the lovely Grandma. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446431559862740610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcOoRTuOOmCHtfZrdC5Dgu3lstc08SITr3VIzdhAEHKFORd0tQO-RvRgCxsbtIungpu9H6wGsiu9kOhXxrjPcaNVUS0QeWTHohvOo9KIQJ7cKB9YFsWBTncNmOdHfZmuKwKnw9yN8ny3Q/s320/IMG_0211.JPG" /></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446431755073039234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghtgZ830S8GcEaxcg67nqdKzXVGoifqYrx9geyyovpsI-bhlOlu6-5RfKziYnOrumdqPsy2DGyXwEmoju9XT1D-bBw2TSLjLUo0OWmkqE0Pgz2HgvXyCd6396TIMEYmcAkj_BOdVUBbJI/s320/IMG_0213.JPG" /></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446432054275334674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp84wItWAcRWemxAOADuHmem-7FBAmKJpiTRQLnEv-Fod13KmYL1Am6hqIAshCccvnlpkhctyQ8wHnelBdRt88AgisPxHXHQykbdAasd1NJC_OUNRynQ-LkKY4S8u6y1NrVGjU6zPXvXA/s320/IMG_0214.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446432189263686690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVZFwmhQNmdraOQ2EALuvUs2YG9q2ZcTQ6h1DQWMwhSbfUPEtZiUCF-tSGZuXsW1Q__i9TbgQoLhFV3cZW9ZOhDKwt5cH9I9EY0lkzLvTN85i-0tlnnVhaLCYVMdmhUvsvWYoU7FiD1YQ/s320/IMG_0215.JPG" /></div></div></div></div><br /><p>I love chips and salsa! Don't these dishes make your mouth water? I ordered a shredded beef enchilada with green sauce with beans and rice! Grandma ordered a ground beef enchilada with green sauce and this day she wanted a side of rice! We all scarfed down our meals and "rolled" out the door! We were stuffed! </p><p>Today was our second time going... This time we let the boys come! Once again, it was DELICIOSO! Thank you Matta's for once again satisfying our tastebuds! </p><p>WE HAVE BEEN MATTAFIED!!! Have you? </p>A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2842870394729297336.post-26158944789186344232010-02-13T17:52:00.020-07:002010-02-13T18:17:27.711-07:00Valentine's Tradition<div align="center">I'm not big on the whole "Valentine's Day" celebration. My mom and I usually mess up and call it "Thanksgiving" or the other day I asked a patient if they had big "Halloween" plans. I really meant Valentine's. Our way of celebrating Valentine's day is by making sugar cookies! My mom and I have been doing this for a couple years now. I love a sugar cookies with pink frosting and sprinkles! They are so tasty and are pretty much the BEST sugar cookie I have ever eaten.<br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437897065232366946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYpsqPpjU2mqBqrz-SmM23ZQYffgeWD4-5HNvTQbm69SMaf8KZCOLJDELN52DgZKnEiBQPXPVU2DXqQohsymn40uIErc4oydh-73ki3abMsFsws_yg_UvlJpacSMQcMjzBu_oRLeRvcLI/s320/IMG_0191.JPG" /><br />My mom made big hearts, medium hearts, and little hearts. She says she likes the little ones because you can eat more and not feel so guilty because they are small! I agree! And since we know how much Grandma loves cookies... we give her a couple small ones!</div><div align="center"></div><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437900237451777794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNXctt-vLiiqGKOKq80YfpL-TMh9514LXsc7FW2kn02wi4HUnjKAVh9XXS88VnPaLCDf7PNOWIkKjayri1P-FK5Dn9qivnkUXB6O9M4XpjhMKhozeep4IUgPVlSH8ZTlmiXYinVsEBAsQ/s320/IMG_0196.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437900510305594130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoXjs8hAfuFz7XV2NXbqF3uJ0BDYagFDv_sgXf27lB3-7bUaNrQFf5GxCy3P16wFK8Bw6agdcQ-QrjDWNOmvyfMEUpkurjUOfhDtoHzA7-IV75R4jr1huwBt9cED5qSMwBY_7EOwIbFdE/s320/IMG_0197.JPG" /></p><div align="center">And the verdict is... "These are pretty tasty, but I think I need another one to know for sure!" There you have it, the best sugar cookie!</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Happy Thanksgiving!!! </span></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">er.... I mean <u>Valentine's Day!</u></span></div>A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2842870394729297336.post-57246895058281844422010-02-13T17:44:00.003-07:002010-02-13T17:50:36.769-07:00How can you not love this face?<div align="center">Just as we hoped, Grandma played the piano while we sang her Happy Birthday! She seemed to have enjoyed her birthday! She says to us.... "I don't even feel like am 80! What does 80 feel like??" She still continues to talk about her party! Thank you all that came and made her day special! It meant alot to her. </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437893844222328322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG4UD_85LuMcPfsW6hpjU1uCxri6hRhApTgmR2p1JHUge5S1dP45IIyaHlIPogPYW3UM7J_7ZMaBNs2gYdAf5lEb_y-W-POUeRtGImBSZmbeIJtzVVigT_XblfGdVTT1Cy7c3ydtPjhew/s320/IMG_0161.JPG" /><br />I love this picture. I feel like it captures how truly happy Grandma was! </div>A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2842870394729297336.post-53666210505052664292010-02-10T18:24:00.015-07:002010-02-13T18:59:40.986-07:00Birthday Party= Sucessful event!!Grandma is now the big <span style="font-size:180%;"><strong>eight-zero!!</strong> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">My mother decided to throw Grandma a <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">BIG </span></strong>bash. My brother Brett woke up at 3 am to smoke some pork. My mom made some yummy salsa, a big thing of potato salad, and a delicious oatmeal cake. Jenny, my sister in law made a "better-than-sex" chocolate cake. Jen, my other sister in law made a big tortellini salad. And I also helped out by making one of my favorites, Pina Colada cake. Grandma used to make it for me on my birthday and I thought I would carry on the tradition and make it for hers. </span><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437887485453218194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjne_QG9qe3mq84n0KXFAeoF6rQMANf94_dr-JCbFZJn2nkTVLJpuXOEi4gtZoC_4arfJcAwwJiyHGxLACkTVAKLjZn_YXyuPhhjFq7aP3hUY3z4NbZqG7wBWgbp1Qgka-pYBWkUsTvTU0/s320/IMG_0159.JPG" border="0" /></span><br /><div align="center">[Brett and the FOOD]</div><br />Mom had invited some of Grandma's friends and our family. It was nice to see you all. And we thank those that sent cards to Grandma. She cried with everyone she read. (It must run in the family or something because my mom does the same thing and by golly, I have started to do it too! Thanks Grandma. My dad always said its because our bladders were put too close to our tear ducts. I am starting to think he is correct.)<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437888452556301554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGCXnVvSL-QKBS3odfFPRJN7qzbuopCbJm5UbtNzK6tce1zNOhXF4x1JmQdFLxBbVM_qHfXvJNeY5pLxhsJk45KQ2Glmh_krsyJPdSdq-JX__INBLnyT2M4XL_lPdotQ6ekExsymAB0Yo/s320/P2060174.JPG" border="0" /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">[Jae Dee Hendrickson, Grandma, Sharon and Berkley Lunt]</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437888239670889154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 254px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqW8RUlJrse_XY0HPMnyRw1XogcMuwU5_u8Ca0AH48-zbqVi-7AznLUT3RU7fZ0Dfl3EPhYPXIx_wBZSgH144thYWMugL0bWrfiOtqjoKR5zkzu2bjK32jgIr7fG_G7SZp3XgPEY0a8XM/s320/P2060173.JPG" border="0" /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">[Grandma with cousin Rondaleen Specht]<br /></div><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437888003840300402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJGHZs1K1GCvJi7R3exUGrjhJxgnBvA_i1r9X03eH7uoQRar8ekD9DZNAjz4U8WUxKLbfLXuP29Y0dePoXncx1XzqB8ebPHIAz_K65ADE3wDYG70kvwVHT8y4oz5Mv6Z024-MO9dq-c9E/s320/IMG_0172.JPG" border="0" /> </p><p align="center">[Grandma and long time friend, Jewel Leslie]<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437887666286510882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 254px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-9omv9LGZTv8uQ1c7aJEZALbG3Mva396RhMNsV0tAqQV0kqP4CWuyQcU-gnQO3rS2jBvPaIdC0iNv2E9jrJ1fTfwogH4y4sTomeV5PCdGF0kA-NP7qPav8331poMDr-wU4BBUUezk38/s320/IMG_0177.JPG" border="0" />[Grandma with counsins Dorothy and Kim Sowards] <strong></strong></p><p align="center"><strong>Some things Grandma got for her birthday: </strong><br /></p><p align="center">-a new recliner ("new" to her. grandpa's old one but she doesn't know)</p>-a silver watch (she had a gold one. but it didn't match her white gold ring. [correction- "my" white gold ring] and don't worry grandma tells us multiple times daily about her new watch.<br /><div align="center"><br />-a beautiful display of pink flowers (tulips, roses and carnations)</div><div align="center"><br />-a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY balloon<br /></div><div align="center">-lots of love from her friends and family </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437889108264574786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 259px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKzP1OGklh0pq_OLkpgkp2eLqtmwlc2Fls3pGsEKQT0nlYNm_HUHBI0gDrOpMDrgqAyKh72vmDCf3hqosddqN1C8alU6IlLlWESe1pPMtE57bkguRyxz9J8w6RA864-W6mrfFlBeTk1oQ/s320/P2080187.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">[Grandma and her flowers]<br /></p>A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2842870394729297336.post-71200801745344889522010-02-06T09:10:00.007-07:002010-02-06T10:42:16.905-07:00HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRANDMA!<div align="center">I want to share 80 things/ reasons why I love you Grandma! </div><div align="center">_____________________________________________________________</div><div align="center">I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> that I get to spend such quality<strong> </strong>time with you every single day. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>your quirky yet witty responses</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> your yellow-ish sweater. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when you start to dance when you hear music in the store</em>! I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span> </strong>it when you sit down and play that jazzy tune on the piano. <em> I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>it when you shake your cute little booty</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span> </strong>that you take good care of my "old" room and put your things nicely in there place. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span> </strong><em>when you stuff your big wad of kleenex in your pocket because you never know when you or someone else will need them</em><strong>.</strong> I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> that you're the only one that eats with a placemat. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when you leave your cane in the bathroom and then can't find it</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> that you won't even consider letting Brett come snuggle with you at night. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>that you will let me come lay next to you while my mom tucks you in</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when you have to put lipstick on before you ever leave the house. <em>I </em><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong><em> our little chats when you tell me over and over again that Grandpa died</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> it when you help me fold my laundry. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when you get ready for church even when its not Sunday</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when you ask me if we are twins. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when you call me "little shit" for being taller than you</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when you go grocery shopping with me to help push the cart. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when my dad gives you diet dr pepper and you tell him not to tell my mom</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> that you gobble on the back porch and the turkey answers back. <em> I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>that when I try to gobble you tell me that I don't do it right</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> it when you put your cold hands on Brett and wake him up. <em>I </em><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>that you have your own special chair and won't let anyone else sit in it</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when you tell me you don't want to go to bed because you don't want to miss anything exciting.<em> I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when you tell my mom she gave you too much food but you still manage to eat it all and sometimes ask for more</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> that you taught me how to sew. <em>I </em><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong><em> that you are organized and everything has its particular place</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love </span></strong>that you will invite anyone and everyone to your room and show them all your pictures. <em>I</em><span style="font-size:180%;"> <strong>love</strong></span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><em>the levi quilt you made many years ago</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> all the blankies you made for my dolls growing up. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when you tell me I'm a crazy driver (even though I am going the speed limit).</em> I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when you break out in random thought and we have no idea what you're talking about. <em>I</em> <span style="font-size:180%;"><strong>love</strong></span> <em>when you repeat stories and my dad starts to count</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when you think Debbie is someone else's daughter. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when you call me Debbie, or even Casey Blue (sometimes my mom does it too).</em> I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when you get after Brett for doing something naughty. <em>I </em><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when we get to meet up and eat lunch together</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when you need a cookie after you finish your lunch. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when you think its someone's birthday even though its not</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when you sing Happy Birthday to my mom and see her roll her eyes. <em> I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when you get the days mixed up</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when we used to have popcorn everynight followed by a bowl of ice cream. <em> I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when you sneak some candy</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love </span></strong>when you open up the bag of cookies and then get caught. <em> I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>the silly face you make when you put on Brett's cowboy hat</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when you ask me where my husband is. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>to hear you laugh</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> it when you cry after reading cards and letters. <em>I </em><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>that a cookie can cheer you up</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> your wedding ring and hope one day I can wear it longer than just 5 seconds. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>your silky night gown</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when you ask me if I combed my hair with a rake. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when you ask me if I even combed my hair at all</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when you talk about my big yellow purse. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when I walk through the door, you comment on my big glasses before even saying Hi</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love </span></strong>when you ask Jenny if she could find a bigger watch. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when you come visit me</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> that you don't care to stay. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>your little QT mug</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when you ask me to fill it up. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love </span></strong><em>when you have friends over, and you tell them the same stories, again and again</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when you tell us about your mother. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when you talk about Grandpa</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> that you have a picture of all of us in your room. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when you can't find your flashlight even though its tucked away in the blankets</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when you find the flash light you cover it back up with the blankets. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>when you tell me you see the peacocks in the trees</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love </span></strong>when you chase the chickens with your cane. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love </span></strong><em>when we go see the goats</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> when you watch Westerns with my dad. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>that we are the youngest of our families</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> that you helped mold me into what I am today. <em> I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong><em> that you were able to come to my temple wedding</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> that you have lived the gospel. <em>I </em><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>that you taught me to do the same</em>. I<strong><span style="font-size:180%;"> love</span></strong> your example of service. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span> </strong><em>your dedication</em>. I <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> the love you have for me. <em>I</em> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> <em>that I have these memories to pass on to my children and grandchildren</em>. I<em> </em><span style="font-size:180%;"><strong>love</strong></span><em> </em>that I am just like you<em>!</em></div><div align="center">Why do you <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">love</span></strong> Grandma?</div>A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2842870394729297336.post-63109722151180449732010-02-05T11:03:00.007-07:002010-02-05T11:16:21.219-07:00Shopping Adventure!<div align="center">Yesterday I went over to my parents house. I got to visit with them and also Grandma. AND...my sweet sweet nephews were there too! I stopped by to say hello but ended up staying most of the evening. I had mentioned that I needed to go grocery shopping and without any hesitation Grandma chimes in and says.. "<strong>Can I go with you</strong>?" I was a little hesitant because I knew it wasn't the grocery trip where you can just run in, grab the item, pay and run out. But I would be going all over the store catching all the GOOD DEALS! But how can you say NO to Grandma? As we walked to the car, she says to me "<strong>I just needed to get out!</strong>" So we got in the car and headed off to have an adventure! </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Walking in to the store, Grandma says to me..."<strong>You know that Grandpa died, right</strong>?" I looked at her and just said, "Yes Grandma, he died a couple months ago." She just said, "Yeah, its been hard." It has been hard and we miss our Grandpa but we are sure enjoying the moments we do have left with Grandma! </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">After walking all over the store (Grandma pushed the cart for me as I put the goods in), we get to the check out line. I was helping the person in front of us load her groceries and then I start to load mine. Grandma once again looks at me and says, "<strong>I need to start looking for a job. Now that Grandpa is gone, I need to make the money!</strong>" And I thought to myself, "Really Grandma, you want to find a job when you have the life of Diet Dr Pepper and cookies at my mom's house?" But I responded, "Grandma, I'm the one with the job. But how about you come over to my house and help me fold my laundry. Then we can go get lunch and cookies!" I think she liked that idea a lot better than her really having a job! </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">I love my adventures with Grandma. I really never know what she is going to say to me or ask me. <em><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>She may not have it all together, but together, WE sure have it all! </strong></span></em></div>A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2842870394729297336.post-49211668034071418982010-02-04T10:57:00.004-07:002010-02-04T11:06:26.999-07:00**Reminder**<div align="center">I get excited for <em><span style="font-size:180%;">FEBRUARY</span></em>... </div><div align="center">Grandma's <span style="font-size:180%;">BIRTHDAY</span> is coming up this <span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>SATURDAY</strong></span><span style="font-size:100%;"> (February 6)! She will be turning </span><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">80</span></strong>! I am getting excited for her birthday! <em>ONE</em>: it will <strong>ACTUALLY</strong> be someone's birthday to celebrate and <em>TWO</em> it will be <span style="font-size:180%;">HERS</span>!! I am hoping she will play the piano for all of us to sing! It is my FAVORITE when she plays the piano! (I can't forget that <span style="font-size:130%;">SATURDAY</span> is also my cousin <strong><span style="font-size:130%;">CASEY BLUE'S</span> </strong>Birthday as well...and then the following day is my brother <span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>ANDY'S</strong></span> Birthday!) I am thinking its time for a party!!! </div>A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2842870394729297336.post-59692383961714796472010-01-30T15:54:00.007-07:002010-01-30T16:21:42.040-07:00Does your Grandma dance? Mine Does!!!<div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I don't know if you know, my Grandma <strong>LOVES</strong> to dance. She hears some music and she is <strong><span style="font-size:130%;">groovin</span>'</strong>! Her and my Grandpa used to be some pretty good dancers back in the day. Back when they both could move and groove. Well somehow Grandpa got older and forgot the moves. On the other hand Grandma is in full force! </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">I don't care what you say but my Grandma has got some <span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>mad moves</strong></span>! She even shakes her <span style="font-size:180%;"><strong>booty</strong></span>!</span></div><p align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz0K97JRwj2dQNqt6QKVVXiE41J9r5ZSOAM279ZqN2ECAjbNyTZDYYwBCPfISPXaXFiG7-siBs-o2PMd6R70Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">And thats just what she does!! <strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Get it Grandma</span></strong>!</span></p><p align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxQpowQ--UNwt87IEtTeGGnQq0HjBpsGY2lz6z8DWjAaolZLF1N1Uc8vAKxa0TyFzcjC64TTTMYG6mZPvKP5w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">How can you NOT smile when you see that!? It makes my day! And I hope it makes yours too!</span></p>A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2842870394729297336.post-510292360073239362010-01-30T14:19:00.008-07:002010-01-30T15:06:37.287-07:00Field Trip to the neighbors<span style="font-family:verdana;">Just this week our neighbor's goat had its baby. We all decided to walk over and see it! We even got grandma out to see it. [I just love field trips because we never know the adventures we will have with Grandma.]</span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432647078137631394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4qFU0t_mFgu6gcUHz7SeTwGYBmH-wY4ar8OMG9YyawXJTcHDMI1uM5CeWDRw8m7Ax_LXHb1LK-rOon1eJaM6s1bGJIkVw9pqsDgCT0N4rHqyfTRKnsKif5wUt-rsGAHBixFEGfe64BaE/s320/CIMG3639.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div align="center">[Heading over to see the goats]</div><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432654739674204354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnutsN57_csEE5gLAt0VrPBOxGzTDrMVarmNJx4cAhrNkD9mLN1Q026pj_SCjucfztXKnrDyaTrs0BI_oYOEfe_KAEOl28MqiBdInO9kQ6mvrwguGH9dIC84TXXI9hph9134QAy6WlvGw/s320/CIMG3640.JPG" border="0" /> [Grandma. Mom. Brett.]<br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432655749147877938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicRvdGn2mIXUPIGIJeJWLJ8RbMHlC2DJu19mf-Ua9PPLqc9nMq0V10CzSUWcAJt65Q90LYW1_1dhxRjVGvDtLnPyUl674InUPIlzEEVnlsisATx1po9u2rps3csACnRqsdgim74NTTt_E/s320/CIMG3643.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">[Baby Goat]</p><p align="center">We asked Grandma if she wanted to take the goat home and keep it in her room... She said she would pass. She likes her room just the way it is. My brother Brett asks Grandma all the time if he can come cuddle with her. She always responds "No! You would take up the whole bed and there wouldn't be any room for me!" [Just picture my Grandma holding her cane and waiving it in the air as she says that!] Oh Grandma dear!</p><p></p><p align="center"><br /><br /></p><p></p>A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2842870394729297336.post-19583531606539511082010-01-30T14:05:00.006-07:002010-01-30T14:18:44.089-07:00Lunchtime<div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I love lunchtime! I work all morning long and my poor patients have to listen to my grumbling tummy. So when one o clock rolls around I get excited to fill my tummy but never can decide exactly what I want. Thursday, I got lucky! My mom and dad had a chiropractor appointment for a massage (they just refer to it as "dr appointment)and the office is in the same complex where I work. We were able to meet up at Firehouse Subs (If you have not been there, we highly recommend it!). It hit the spot. And I would have to say that Grandma agreed!</span></div><div align="center"></div><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432644170646756962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAMlQCXvVsvO9e0gJf860Jn1Z65mpsJOuFP2G_pazEveNtaBaUwmfKjUAAwuB_9SGjqqKxUNNLv44FU18NxU71Nbv0AzPVzVFh3aCDvnVo0FCO6PTk4scw1TCPdCoQQbM3J-AiFVR0jLA/s320/IMG_0148.JPG" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">She is just so dang cute! After she finished her sub, she insisted on getting a cookie. Grandma LOVES cookies! </span></p>A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2842870394729297336.post-10371685693080394002010-01-25T21:22:00.009-07:002010-01-27T16:17:50.751-07:00Pet or No Pet<div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">We asked grandma if she would enjoy having a little puppy. She just looked at us and said, "NO! I already have Mr. Frog. He isn't stinky. He doesn't poop. I don't have to feed him. He doesn't make a noise. He just sits where he is put and that is that." </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431557035394891890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj78yVI7cCf_gjXZySFZijczHm6nvEH5C3EPFCaLUXgTlUJ5awtVLLkiA4taZly_FxRgIA6mNW51NiBZJYhniVkhdCds2AfdES2khdgJ-mD0BKxEGvNOiCKl7zZ7Pk3oQtGz6uweDB8SBQ/s320/P1220111.JPG" /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">[Mr Frog] </span></div><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Mr. Frog is a little ceramic frog that Grandma painted back in the day(1983). And she insisted that it was brought over to my parents house and set out on the back porch so she could see him. She set it right by the back door throughout the day, she checks on him to make sure he's still there.<br /></p></span><p align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 179px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431558161623191154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihEvLLwzCTRtrt8ftCrTqhuRB1ZLO5i-JtBM_RAqQjL0CD5djkvrBHKAAvaVsNpXtfZ9syc70au2LmM7slvpuXmUtd01ca6pJVUVANIxRtkPGHAxWTDT_TeooHAeYPX_YRI7RfYk8U7pI/s320/P1220110.JPG" /><span style="font-family:verdana;">[Grandma and Mr. Frog]<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />When I was younger... Grandma and Grandpa bought me a "Mr. Frog" He was a giant stuffed animal that I loved to cuddle with. I would get upset if someone took Mr. Frog. But no</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">w I have grown up (or so people think) and I now allow the nieces and nephews to cuddle with Mr. Frog. (Yes, my parents still have him). Sometimes I take my Mr. Frog out to hang out with Grandma's Mr. Frog. </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 295px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431561041142105378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_pLWHEXnmwQZelZJr2BRSEE3HVXNjtEyi7xDeUdADU8eHXvbI-1jfL4ik3R8r0j2cg1LTQSm862F5b1IVd_J0ROjae-fx_49gmyuaXqgGy_iXmw2xzP5Lb0movB3PnlvQwWRfji_nmU/s320/P1270115.JPG" /></p><p align="center">I guess you could say they are buddies.</span></p>A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2842870394729297336.post-66364729266157617062010-01-25T13:10:00.000-07:002010-01-25T13:30:02.106-07:00Has anyone seen my BIG purse....<span style="font-family:verdana;"> I'm not too stylish but I try to atleast keep up with some of the styles. So I like purses. Not those little "satchet" ones or the little "coin" purses. But I love the <span style="font-size:180%;">BIG</span> purses. I can pretty much fit everything in it. My cell phone, my old school Gucci wallet, a couple cameras (never know which will quit on me), my organizer/calender and whatever else my husband needs me to hold for him (maybe he needs a purse too?). Anywho... when I am at my mom's, Grandma always seems to find my purse and she doesn't forget it. Today, she couldn't miss it. How could she, its <span style="font-size:180%;">BIG</span>! And <em>YELLOW</em>! </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430774857203097330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_AbCILcP_6zpB3ij9faEgsKjM8HaUGUdqS7io67bhnchrVY3V7o0ETuWmTx3Iurwlx2eL_hgogTg5P0ZnfU1lVw1zmUV-QH2yahAAbUCD0ZiHlPGJZGb1Hw03NVaiu6shqYsupdpr7OI/s320/CIMG3630.JPG" /></div><div align="center"> <span style="font-family:verdana;">[Grandma and the <span style="font-size:180%;">BIG</span> <em>YELLOW</em> purse]<br /></span></div><br /><br /> <span style="font-family:verdana;"> She says "Here's a <span style="font-size:180%;">BIG</span> <em>yellow</em> purse..." She continues and says "What could I say about that big <em>yellow</em> purse? Well.....its a <span style="font-size:180%;">BIG</span> one!" She also includes "its bigger than what I would like to have." </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;"> Well well well, Grandma may not remember but I sure do. She used to have a <span style="font-size:180%;">BIG</span> purse herself. She would take it on trips. One trip, I kept telling her that it was so big she could put her nightgown in it. I kept trying and trying to put her nightgown in it but she kept taking it out. I was probably only 10 or so. I guess I just want to be like Grandma! </span></div>A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2842870394729297336.post-47556356965312745442010-01-22T14:21:00.001-07:002010-01-25T13:36:31.184-07:00Introducing..... A lovely LADY!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHq8ufhFjaOtQzr22Fl_khjxWXn9TPfIAnrGDcbYbFNwZEL6SCYb-cslnUkl6yO-IIvJ3dFla5zLVSO5zXEe4CUaM3S7BH_7Brk0T3J7kglNMxkf_2_BNrPebYD0IyjnpX_PRwprqd9ok/s1600-h/P1220112.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 215px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 157px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429693754134910626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHq8ufhFjaOtQzr22Fl_khjxWXn9TPfIAnrGDcbYbFNwZEL6SCYb-cslnUkl6yO-IIvJ3dFla5zLVSO5zXEe4CUaM3S7BH_7Brk0T3J7kglNMxkf_2_BNrPebYD0IyjnpX_PRwprqd9ok/s320/P1220112.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Ercel Knight Garrett-</span></strong><br />Born February 6, 1930 in LaJara Colorado. She is the youngest of 12 children. Her parents were John S. Knight and Betsy Leonora Smith. Her mother died when she was only 6 years old.<br /><br />Grandma married a wonderful man by the name of James Bellamy Garrett. They had three children; Brent, Valerie, and Debra. Valerie is my mother. I am the baby of the family just as Grandma was the baby of hers. (I am also the favorite grandchild! Just ask Grandma!)<br /><br />Just shy of being married for 60 years, my grandpa decided to check out and leave Grandma for us to take care of while he started preparing for her departure to be with him. Grandma now lives with my mother. I got kicked out and my Grandma moved in. But I am ok with that. Grandma takes good care of my room.<br /><br />Grandma was diagnosed with Alzheimer's about a year and a half ago. We now have wonderful experiences with her and we want others to experience them as well. She is a funny lady! She is an amazing grandma and I want everyone to know.<br /><br /><strong>Experience for the day</strong>:<br />Today we (mom, dad, grandma, and i) went for a drive out to the desert. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizfy3nLV4nYursvmDQptUsrPys7VeJ0e5_qYoEbJJ9a5XlWhvoGl2Dl9pCo8WcsvVhdaYqWH8tqcGbhgraATyuKW70iYzOFIu4Y9nZTnq4jXj-eFmZyO8t4EjdmbbNW8jU7ykEQH-itQI/s1600-h/P1210074.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429692808797999042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizfy3nLV4nYursvmDQptUsrPys7VeJ0e5_qYoEbJJ9a5XlWhvoGl2Dl9pCo8WcsvVhdaYqWH8tqcGbhgraATyuKW70iYzOFIu4Y9nZTnq4jXj-eFmZyO8t4EjdmbbNW8jU7ykEQH-itQI/s320/P1210074.JPG" /></a><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429693027889013058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvlQVbfAMxwznn97joNZSdLgkcn3oAM_eoxFpO-Ly4H6hmLcwGVjuW-Hs-_qQs1aPrDzvvxCZQVXbyjuStBJUhjThURkehMUIQMuRErpfp-A5G0KZVpKpeQKpIG80TTZBtnpkg4eBvG9Q/s320/P1220099.JPG" /> [Salt River] [Stuart Mountain Dam]<br /><br /><div align="justify">After driving around for a while and exploring, Grandma and I decided we were hungry and we all went to get hot dogs from ChicagoLand. Grandma decided that TODAY was my Mom's Birthday (Mom's Birthday is really in November)! Grandma insisted on singing to her on the drive home and again when we got home. She even played the piano! Not only once but <u>TWICE</u>! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!! (How old does that make you?) Oh how we love her! </div>A blog about Grandmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06717737521938573326noreply@blogger.com3