<?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-6647037438141813038</id><updated>2012-01-30T16:39:20.401-05:00</updated><category term='cooking'/><category term='motherhood'/><category term='Mermaids'/><category term='-'/><category term='venting'/><category term='calgon moment'/><category term='aww HAYLE no'/><category term='books'/><category term='reminiscing'/><category term='dress-up'/><category term='oops'/><category term='raising girls'/><category term='projects'/><category term='winter'/><category term='photos'/><category term='coloring'/><category term='honesty'/><category term='30 day'/><category term='hair'/><category term='home'/><category term='working out'/><category term='just do it'/><category term='summer'/><category term='travel'/><category term='spring'/><category term='princesses'/><category term='thoughts'/><category term='self-esteem'/><category term='nerves'/><category term='recipes'/><category term='growing up'/><category term='contest'/><category term='arts and craps'/><category term='sharing'/><category term='germs'/><category term='me time'/><category term='advice'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='waxing'/><category term='week-end'/><category term='give away'/><category term='random'/><category term='music'/><category term='my girls'/><category term='fall'/><category term='activities'/><category term='school'/><category term='tantrums'/><category term='crafts'/><category term='life'/><category term='daddy-daughter time'/><category term='funny stuff'/><category term='pinterest'/><category term='the things you just do'/><category term='feel good'/><category term='holidays'/><category term='food'/><category term='Barbies'/><category term='play area madness'/><category term='dolls'/><category term='tennis'/><title type='text'>Hilary, With One "L"</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>413</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-3059629733494654138</id><published>2012-01-30T14:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T14:25:01.598-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='winter'/><title type='text'>Sick Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.helpineedhelp.com/content/images/stu_sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.helpineedhelp.com/content/images/stu_sm.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.helpineedhelp.com/#/" target="_blank"&gt;(image)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.helpineedhelp.com/content/images/ach_sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.helpineedhelp.com/content/images/ach_sm.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.helpineedhelp.com/#/" target="_blank"&gt;(image)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uggggghhh. . .I feel like crap on toast. &amp;nbsp;My nose is so stuffed up, I swear someone jammed cotton balls in there when I wasn't looking. &amp;nbsp;It's so plugged, I can't taste anything. That actually might be a good thing because my throat is so raw that swallowing feels like a dozen tiny swordsmen are sharpening their steel on my tonsils. I'm so tired because I can't sleep because I can't breathe. &amp;nbsp;I've turned into a droopy eyed, dry-lipped, mouth breather. &amp;nbsp;Let me go take some Tylenol with an orange juice chaser. Keep your fingers crossed for rebound for tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-3059629733494654138?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/3059629733494654138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=3059629733494654138&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3059629733494654138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3059629733494654138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2012/01/sick-day.html' title='Sick Day'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-7378334032798741311</id><published>2012-01-24T10:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T10:56:02.928-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pinterest'/><title type='text'>How Charming</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v2JEuE26Iz8/Tx657_T_KJI/AAAAAAAACCE/zSvYUOnPMqs/s1600/charm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v2JEuE26Iz8/Tx657_T_KJI/AAAAAAAACCE/zSvYUOnPMqs/s320/charm.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.tiffanyandco.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Hilary with One L's Charm Bracelet&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;I don't wear a lot of jewelry. &amp;nbsp;My wedding rings, my watch and I'm out the door. &amp;nbsp;I'm so rough on my hands, I'm afraid that I'm going to snag a bracelet or a ring on something and either rip the setting apart or lose the whole piece entirely. &amp;nbsp;Still, when I'm feeling fancy or really want to dress up something as basic as a tee shirt and jeans, I turn to my charm bracelet that Craig started for me several years ago. &amp;nbsp;The first charm was the round T&amp;amp; Co charm for a Christmas gift. &amp;nbsp;The second was the little blue box because, who doesn't like to see a little blue box? My third charm was the number 7, which holds special significance to me. &amp;nbsp;My last charm was the apple which was given to me by Craig. Without getting &lt;i&gt;too&lt;/i&gt; personal, let's just say that after many married years, I'm still tempting to my hubs the way the apple tempted Adam and Eve. &amp;nbsp;I think there's room on there for one more, and I've got my eye on something like this:&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hnbag.com/Pic/350450/TC62.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.hnbag.com/Pic/350450/TC62.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hnbag.com/Tiffany_Co/Charms/Tiffany_Co_Camera_charm_TC62.html" target="_blank"&gt;(image)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you prefer a charm bracelet that has a specific theme or one that tells a story about who you are?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7024/6573115335_27528fb893_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="236" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7024/6573115335_27528fb893_z.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/stuckinthemetal/6573115335/" target="_blank"&gt;Solid Gold Victorian Charm Bracelet&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g4nSiD90KEg/Tx62N6RO5vI/AAAAAAAACBU/tDTdMSZqfUs/s1600/106749453637117046_wApB3yna_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g4nSiD90KEg/Tx62N6RO5vI/AAAAAAAACBU/tDTdMSZqfUs/s320/106749453637117046_wApB3yna_c.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Bookish Charm Bracelet&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R2HlqC6pWTo/Tx62OLhlOdI/AAAAAAAACBc/S9gg6FssdF4/s1600/108649409729914287_dFmXARnQ_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R2HlqC6pWTo/Tx62OLhlOdI/AAAAAAAACBc/S9gg6FssdF4/s1600/108649409729914287_dFmXARnQ_b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bagshoescompulsive.blogspot.com/2009/05/chanel-1980s-gold-chain-bracelet-with.html" target="_blank"&gt;Coco Chanel Inspired Charm Bracelet&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wChpOtc0E2M/Tx62OTy52hI/AAAAAAAACBk/VbSS6uthuSE/s1600/il_570xN.300434044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="282" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wChpOtc0E2M/Tx62OTy52hI/AAAAAAAACBk/VbSS6uthuSE/s320/il_570xN.300434044.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/64363503/fairy-tale-wonderland-charm-bracelet?ref=sr_gallery_14&amp;amp;sref=&amp;amp;ga_search_submit=&amp;amp;ga_ref=auto&amp;amp;ga_search_query=charm+bracelet&amp;amp;ga_view_type=gallery&amp;amp;ga_ship_to=US&amp;amp;ga_search_type=handmade&amp;amp;ga_facet=handmade" target="_blank"&gt;Fairy Tale Wonderland Charm Bracelet&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img3.etsystatic.com/il_fullxfull.279942935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://img3.etsystatic.com/il_fullxfull.279942935.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/84358079/paris-charm-bracelet" target="_blank"&gt;Parisian Charm Bracelet&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fashionfuss.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/tiffany-tennis-racquet-charm-bracelet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="252" src="http://www.fashionfuss.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/tiffany-tennis-racquet-charm-bracelet.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fashionfuss.com/tiffany-tennis-racquet-charmbracelet/" target="_blank"&gt;Tennis Charm Bracelet&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/6647037438141813038-7378334032798741311?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/7378334032798741311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=7378334032798741311&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/7378334032798741311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/7378334032798741311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2012/01/how-charming.html' title='How Charming'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v2JEuE26Iz8/Tx657_T_KJI/AAAAAAAACCE/zSvYUOnPMqs/s72-c/charm.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-4087834048107272359</id><published>2012-01-23T10:49:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T10:49:50.264-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='honesty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my girls'/><title type='text'>Come on out, Baby!</title><content type='html'>I promise, I'm not going to turn into one of those bloggers who, once they start popping out kids like Pez , they don't have anything else to talk about except stretch marks, poopy diapers, and cracked nipples. &amp;nbsp;I will say, however, observing the girls and their reactions to my pregnancy has been pretty hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the other day, we were on our way home from school when Coever announced from the backseat that come June, when it's time for the baby to be born, I will, "go into the bathroom and poop it out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her sister, also known as Fountain of Infinite Knowledge, said, "Uh no! When the baby is ready to be born, the doctor will cut it out of Mom's tummy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I hadn't been doing 35 on a twisty road, I'd have banged my head on the steering wheel. Repeatedly. &amp;nbsp;*Le sigh* Where to begin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opened with asking the girls what they knew about muscles in the body. What are muscles and how do we make them grow? No problem. They answered that like Ken Jennings on final Jeopardy. &amp;nbsp;I went on to say that men and women have different muscles and that the place where a baby grows is a muscle unique to women called a uterus. &amp;nbsp;I flicked my eyes up to the rear view mirror to see if they were still with me or if I needed to turn back to Absolutely Mindy on Kids Place Live. &amp;nbsp;My girls were hanging on my every word, so I plunged ahead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A uterus, I went on to explain was a muscle that was like a house for the baby. &amp;nbsp;The muscle grew to accommodate the baby as the baby grew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And then they cut you open to take the baby out!" Morgan finished for me. &amp;nbsp;She was delivered via C-section and has heard the story so well, you'd think she actually brought herself forth from the inside out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, sometimes a doctor has to make an incision to take the baby out because the baby is facing the wrong way or is in trouble and has to come out fast. Most of the time the baby comes out another way."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When you poop!" Coever announced! This girl and her poops, what is up with that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not quite," I went on, wishing that we were at home instead of hitting every single red light between the school yard and house. &amp;nbsp;My brain was whirring and ticking as I thought on how to thoughtfully explain the whole uterus/cervix/vagina extravaganza that is natural childbirth. &amp;nbsp;So, I went back to the uterus and likened it to a house where the baby lives until it's ready to be born. &amp;nbsp;"In order to get out of the house, what do we go through?" I asked them, pretty certain they'd get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A door!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Right," I said, gaining momentum. "So the uterus is the house and the vagina is the door the baby goes through to come out into the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dead silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the plaintive exclamation from Morgan, "But it's &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;SO &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;small!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing gets past her. Not a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," I said, trying to wrap this up as quickly as possible, "that's true, but after the baby is born, everything goes back to the way it was." &lt;i&gt;If you're lucky, I added under my breath&lt;/i&gt;. &amp;nbsp;Thankfully, we were wheeling up the driveway at that point, so I was able to redirect that conversation to more important things like the collection of backpacks, mittens, snack wrappers and other junk. &amp;nbsp;Later on, when I was retelling this to Craig, I realized, better to have a conversation about how the baby was getting out instead of how the baby got in. &amp;nbsp;We're going to need more than an after school pick-up to discuss that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-4087834048107272359?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/4087834048107272359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=4087834048107272359&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/4087834048107272359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/4087834048107272359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2012/01/come-on-out-baby.html' title='Come on out, Baby!'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-3908949621234185070</id><published>2012-01-20T07:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-20T07:41:20.721-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Recipe Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://wondertime.go.com/resources/images/home-front/article/lasagna-art.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://wondertime.go.com/resources/images/home-front/article/lasagna-art.jpg" width="227" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://wondertime.go.com/life-at-home/article/lasagna-beat-this.html" target="_blank"&gt;(image)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;I don't feel like I get a ton of magazines, but there are a &lt;i&gt;ton&lt;/i&gt; of magazines laying around my house. &amp;nbsp;Usually, when I'm reading one, I rip out choice articles or recipes that catch my eye. &amp;nbsp;Then, instead of deep sixing the mag, it ends up on the coffee table or in the gaping maw of the magazine basket next to the fireplace. &amp;nbsp;Eventually, I'll go through those mags that have made the cut. I'll do a quick flip through to see if I've missed anything before I really and truly throw it away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During one of my last purges, I came across an old copy of WonderTime magazine. &amp;nbsp;Do they even print this anymore? &amp;nbsp;SN&lt;i&gt;: The better question is, am I getting charged for this 'cause I haven't seen a new issue in a while. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A quick Google search and come to find out, it's not in publication anymore. &amp;nbsp;That's a shame. &amp;nbsp;I used to love this magazine! It was like &lt;i&gt;Real Simple&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;Parents&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;had a baby and &lt;i&gt;voila! &lt;/i&gt;WonderTime. &amp;nbsp;You can still check out some offerings &lt;a href="http://wondertime.go.com/" target="_blank"&gt;online&lt;/a&gt;, but nothing beats the weight and heft of a well designed magazine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like most mags, they offered some recipes that were family friendly. &amp;nbsp;In one issue, there was a contest called "Beat This", where participants submitted what they considered to be their best recipe for a certain dish. &amp;nbsp;Other readers were encouraged to beat it, basically prove that they had a better recipe than the one featured. &amp;nbsp;I never did submit anything, but I guess in the back of my mind, I was going to see how good this woman's lasagna really was -- hence the saving of a now defunct magazine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the grocery yesterday for some odds and ends, and wouldn't you know it, the ingredients for the lasagna ended up in my cart. &amp;nbsp;I must be crazy because Craig is now doing Paleo and I'm pretty sure you can't pick lasagna off a tree, dig it out of the ground, or spear with with a bow and arrow as it leaps across a grassy knoll. &amp;nbsp;The girls? I predict that Morgan will give it a courtesy bite and Coever will opt out entirely in favor of salami and crackers. &amp;nbsp;Thankfully, my dad is in town. He's like Mikey from the Life cereal commercials. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's going to be pretty tasty. &amp;nbsp;I made it last night and am going to cook up it tonight for supper. &amp;nbsp;I'll let you know how it turns out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ripped my copy of the recipe out of the issue of WonderTime, but you can find it &lt;a href="http://wondertime.go.com/life-at-home/article/lasagna-beat-this_2.html" target="_blank"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Buono appetito!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: #666666; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Serves 6 to 8&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #666666; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ingredients:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 pound ground beef or ground turkey (or cooked chicken, Italian sausage, seafood, andouille, etc.) &lt;br /&gt;2 cloves garlic, minced&lt;br /&gt;1 teaspoon dried basil&lt;br /&gt;1 teaspoon dried oregano&lt;br /&gt;26 to 28 ounces (about 3 cups) pasta sauce&lt;br /&gt;Salt and pepper&lt;br /&gt;r 2 tablespoons red wine (optional)&lt;br /&gt;1 cup chicken stock&lt;br /&gt;8 ounces cream cheese, softened&lt;br /&gt;2 tablespoons white wine (optional)&lt;br /&gt;12 ounces (3 cups) freshly grated mozzarella&lt;br /&gt;6 to 8 no-boil lasagna noodles &lt;br /&gt;2 cups cooked, well-drained broccoli, spinach, peas, or other vegetables (optional)&lt;br /&gt;1 cup (about 4 ounces) freshly grated Parmesan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #666666; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #666666; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Heat oven to 400. Grease a 9-by-13-inch pan. Thoroughly cook the ground beef, garlic, and herbs in a large skillet, stirring frequently and breaking up the meat. Stir in pasta sauce and bring to a simmer for about 2 minutes. Season to taste and add the red wine, if using. Set aside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #666666; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #666666; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;In a medium saucepan over medium heat, bring chicken stock to a boil. Add cream cheese, turn heat to low, and whisk until smooth, about 6 minutes. Season to taste and add the white wine, if using.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #666666; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #666666; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Spoon half the meat sauce into the pan as evenly as possible. Sprinkle 1 cup grated mozzarella over the meat mixture. Top with 3 or 4 lasagna noodles. If using vegetables, toss them evenly over the noodles.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #666666; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #666666; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Pour the cream-cheese sauce over the noodles and cover with another cup of grated mozzarella. Arrange 3 or 4 lasagna noodles over the cheese, then spoon remaining meat mixture over noodles as evenly as possible. Top with the rest of the mozzarella and the grated Parmesan. Bake until brown and bubbling, 35 to 45 minutes. (You'll need the longer cooking time if you have made and chilled the lasagna in advance.) Let cool for 10 to 15 minutes or it will be too gloppy to cut well. That would drive you crazy this late in the game.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-3908949621234185070?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/3908949621234185070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=3908949621234185070&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3908949621234185070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3908949621234185070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2012/01/recipe-friday.html' title='Recipe Friday'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-8235173072604813152</id><published>2012-01-19T12:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T12:36:46.233-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><title type='text'>Gimme, gimme, gimme</title><content type='html'>There are a couple of things that I have decided that I &lt;i&gt;desperately &lt;/i&gt;need. &amp;nbsp;Of course, I can't find them anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Six years ago, Target had a line of pajamas, the name of which I totally forget. Among the designs were a pair of gray pajama bottoms with the Eiffel Tower stamped all over them in red. I wore them all.of.the.time, especially when I was out there pregnant with Morgan. &amp;nbsp;I need those pajama bottoms or any drawstring pajama bottoms with the Eiffel Tower on them. &amp;nbsp;Someone, please get on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Speaking of the Eiffel Tower, I need it. &amp;nbsp;Specifically, I need a replica. Preferably an 18 inch wire/mesh type that I can plunk down on this sideboard we have to complete a little Parisian theme we have going in the hallway. &amp;nbsp;Two, three weeks ago, those things were all over HomeGoods, Marshalls and TJ Maxx? &amp;nbsp;Today, all of those stores look ransacked and on the verge of collapse. Gotta love the post-holiday return and exchange crush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Yoga pants. &amp;nbsp;Really, this shouldn't be so hard and yet, I am about to have an aneurysm because I can't find any decent yoga pants. Part of the problem stems from the fact that I will not fork over my money to an establishment whose clerks and service providers do not acknowledge me in the store. &amp;nbsp;Can I get a greeting? Can you help me find something without me having to chase you through the store only to have you evade me by popping into the Employee Only black hole of coffee-breaks and inventory rooms? Yes, I'm looking at you, Lululemon salesperson ::stinky side-eye::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. A car that works. &amp;nbsp;My car just up and decided to deflate the other day. I mean, I went outside and the back-end looked like it had been filled with bricks. The front end had it's nose in the air like a trained seal. &amp;nbsp;I couldn't figure out what was going on. Turns out the air suspension was blown or shot or whatever. Bottom line? It wasn't working. &amp;nbsp;So, it goes to the dealership and my sweet hubby brings home a rental car. I'm thinking something with four-doors, like a Honda Civic or a Ford Focus. Nope. I get this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.allpar.com/images/minivans/2008/2008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="171" src="http://www.allpar.com/images/minivans/2008/2008.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.allpar.com/model/m/2008-minivans.html" target="_blank"&gt;(image)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Uh yeah, that would be a mini-van.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously? Oh, this thing is fully loaded with leather seats, two DVD players, the automatic rear sliding doors on each side and all manner of jingly bells and whistles. &amp;nbsp;The girls consider this a serious upgrade and I'm sure there will be tears when it's time to turn it in. &amp;nbsp;As for me? I'm not trying to knock the folks out there who drive around in their Odysseys, Quests, and what not, but I'm just not that girl. &amp;nbsp;There have been times when we've been up against a wall with respect to car options. We were pushing my dad's old Lincoln Town Car there for a while (like driving your living room around town). &amp;nbsp;But see, I've been an SUV driver for as long as I've had my license and an SUV is about as big as I want to go. &amp;nbsp;Truth be told, if I had my way, I'd be sitting pretty in one of these:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://vlane.com/img/chrome/6575.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://vlane.com/img/chrome/6575.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://vlane.com/specifications/2005/Mercedes-Benz/C230/C230-Sport-Coupe-summary" target="_blank"&gt;(image)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;And I even like the color. . .(if you know that reference, give yourself 2 million cool points). &amp;nbsp;Boo-hoo for me, I don't think Mercedes makes this body style any more. &amp;nbsp;Craig said he'd get me one for my 50th birthday. I had to specify that I meant the actual car that I could fit into and drive, not some Hot Wheels or Micro Machines knock-off. &amp;nbsp;Gotta be specific.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got a serious case of the gimmes with no discernible end in sight. &amp;nbsp;What's a girl to do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-8235173072604813152?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/8235173072604813152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=8235173072604813152&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/8235173072604813152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/8235173072604813152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2012/01/gimme-gimme-gimme.html' title='Gimme, gimme, gimme'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-4042850195515594337</id><published>2012-01-17T17:21:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T17:21:56.557-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my girls'/><title type='text'>Thems the Rules</title><content type='html'>So, we told the girls pretty early on that Trip was going to be joining us in June. I debated for a while as when to break the news to them, but the decision was kind of made for me when I kept having to stop making breakfast to go hug the toilet bowl every morning. There's really no creative way to re-direct the children from the sound of you horking up an offering to the porcelain gods. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any event, once we explained to the girls that there was a baby on the way, you'd have thought they'd won the lottery. &amp;nbsp;Coever was fist pumping and marching around the kitchen, while Morgan just laughed and giggled. &amp;nbsp;Not a bad reaction. Everyone has said that I've got two great helpers on my hands, and the girls certainly seem willing to do their part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morgan has taken Coever under her wing as they prepare to transition into big sisterhood for the second and first time, respectively. &amp;nbsp;Over the last couple of weeks, Morgan has been doling out little nuggets of sisterly advice for Coever to keep on file when the mantle of "Big Sister" falls onto her shoulders. &amp;nbsp;Once, while the girls were picking up crayons off of the floor, I overheard Morgan say to Coever, "You'll want to throw out pieces like that. You wouldn't want the baby to put it in it's mouth and choke and die." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coever studied the nub of crayon, shrugged her shoulders in a "Hmm, good point," kind of way and tossed it in trash. &amp;nbsp;Another time, Morgan saw Coever coming into the kitchen carrying a pair of scissors incorrectly. &amp;nbsp;Quickly, she reprimanded her sister, saying, "You shouldn't carry the scissors like that! The baby could carry the scissors like that and trip and poke themselves and die."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm was seeing a pattern develop here, so I talked with Morgan about it. We decided she should come up with some rules for Coever on how to be a big sister, but more importantly, rules that don't ultimately end with the untimely demise of Trip. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without further ado, I give you the Big Sister Rules, according to Morgan, a four and a half year expert on the subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eIy4BbZxWiU/TxXzmpec9eI/AAAAAAAACA8/U_K2WpS4i2g/s1600/baby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eIy4BbZxWiU/TxXzmpec9eI/AAAAAAAACA8/U_K2WpS4i2g/s400/baby.jpg" width="308" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Number five sums it up nicely, I think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-4042850195515594337?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/4042850195515594337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=4042850195515594337&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/4042850195515594337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/4042850195515594337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2012/01/thems-rules.html' title='Thems the Rules'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eIy4BbZxWiU/TxXzmpec9eI/AAAAAAAACA8/U_K2WpS4i2g/s72-c/baby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-5258009819131732589</id><published>2012-01-13T16:32:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T16:32:22.744-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Friday Randomness</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center style="text-align: left;"&gt;I must be having some DWTS withdrawal or something. I heard this Prince song today and immediately thought, "They should totally do a tango to this song!" Then I looked around to make sure I hadn't said that out loud. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center style="text-align: left;"&gt;Fun fact for you: This song was released in 1986 (feeling old, much?). &amp;nbsp;It still gets fingers poppin' and toes tappin'. &amp;nbsp;In the video, Prince sports tight pants and high heels with such panache, I'm sure there are quite a few females out there taking copious notes. &amp;nbsp;XOXO and Happy Friday, y'all.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" height="273" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.pp2g.tv/pYXx-ZHM_.aspx"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="width=320&amp;height=273"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.pp2g.tv/pYXx-ZHM_.aspx" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="320" height="273" flashvars="width=320&amp;height=273"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&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/6647037438141813038-5258009819131732589?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/5258009819131732589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=5258009819131732589&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5258009819131732589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5258009819131732589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2012/01/friday-randomness.html' title='Friday Randomness'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-6287104146395946942</id><published>2012-01-10T12:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T12:52:03.967-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><title type='text'>Word Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/190558627952689743_DrnyIRRv_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/190558627952689743_DrnyIRRv_c.jpg" width="255" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/190558627952689743/" target="_blank"&gt;image&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing with reading quite a bit is that you pick up a number of new words for your vocabulary. &amp;nbsp;What I find even more interesting is that once you come across a new word, then you see it everywhere. &amp;nbsp;In the last four or five books I've read, the following words have appeared several times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;meme&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; (n) - &lt;i&gt;an idea, behavior, or style that spreads from person to person within a culture.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a matter of fact, I saw this word again today while reading an article about the "Sh*t Girls say. . ." phenomenon that has exploded all over YouTube. &amp;nbsp;Weirdly enough, every time I see the word &lt;i&gt;meme&lt;/i&gt;, in my head I always say &lt;i&gt;meem. &lt;/i&gt;Now I have doomed myself to say it incorrectly, especially when I'm trying to impress someone with my wordiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;peripatetic &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;(n) - &lt;i&gt;pedestrian, traveller&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really? This seems like a gratuitous use of an inflated synonym. &amp;nbsp;Just say &lt;i&gt;pedestrian&lt;/i&gt;, or someone having a walk-about. Especially when you use the word in such a way that there aren't any context clues to help me figure out and then I get all douchey by whipping out my iPhone to look it up on my dictionary app. &amp;nbsp;Yes, use of the iPhone that is unrelated to making phone calls, sending emails, checking your position on the GPS, or entertaining your child while you get the grocery shopping done leans towards douche-baggery. Sorry, I don't make the rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;scrofulous &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;(adj) - &lt;i&gt;having a diseased, run-down appearance; morally contaminated; affected with scrofula.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*head slap*&lt;i&gt; Of course&lt;/i&gt; that's what it means! I think I read this word first in "&lt;a href="http://www.shelfari.com/books/17406983/The-Witchs-Daughter" target="_blank"&gt;The Witch's Daughter&lt;/a&gt;" by Paula Brackston. The story takes place in England, so I figured scrofulous was a British word that had an American counterpart. &amp;nbsp;You know like the way the Brits say "boot" instead of "trunk" or "crisps instead of "chips" or "Kate Middleton" instead of "Girl, eat a damn sandwich and step away from the eyeliner".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've gone 33 years and not once ever heard or seen the word scrofulous before. Then *poof* &amp;nbsp;at least twice in two different books over the course of a week. &amp;nbsp;Say it out loud, just once. "Scrofulous". The prefix (if it can be called that) &lt;i&gt;scrof-&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;reminds me of how people describe how voraciously they've been eating. You know, "Oh man, I was so hungry. When I finally ate, I was like &lt;i&gt;scrof, scrof, scrof&lt;/i&gt;. . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I'm laughing at myself, by myself, for typing that sentence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Scrof, scrof, scrof&lt;/i&gt; is like O&lt;i&gt;m, nom, nom&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;but only if you are so hungry you're about to gnaw on your own forearm. I've been that hungry before. &amp;nbsp;All decorum goes out the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm wondering what word or words I'll come across next. &amp;nbsp;I'm about a quarter of the way through "A Clash of Kings" and haven't seen any of the aforementioned words. &amp;nbsp;Of course, this book is teetering on 900 pages, so there's still time. &amp;nbsp; I did read a post at &lt;a href="http://www.peopleiwanttopunchinthethroat.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;PIWTPITT &lt;/a&gt;where the author describes Donald Trump as a megalomaniac. &amp;nbsp;Not my first time at the rodeo with that word, but haven't seen it in a while. &amp;nbsp;Such an awesome word. "&lt;i&gt;Megalo&lt;/i&gt;-" is kind of melodious when taken on it's own. &lt;i&gt;Megalo, megalo, megalo&lt;/i&gt;. . .like some word an old curmudgeon (ooh, curmudgeon!) would say to himself repeatedly as he contemplated a chess move while worrying a pawn in his scrofulous fingers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See what I did there? &amp;nbsp;Now, how to work all three into one sentence. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-6287104146395946942?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/6287104146395946942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=6287104146395946942&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/6287104146395946942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/6287104146395946942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2012/01/word-girl.html' title='Word Girl'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-8862675219463856574</id><published>2012-01-09T12:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T12:42:27.322-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pinterest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><title type='text'>Busy As A . . .</title><content type='html'>For some reason, I have really been into bees lately. More specifically, the bee motif. &amp;nbsp;I've been stung enough to know that these little winged creatures are best admired from a distance or when they're serving as inspiration for a crafty project. There is just something about &lt;i&gt;Apis Melifea &lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;that makes a really striking theme. &amp;nbsp;Several years ago, Restoration Hardware featured embroidered bees on a number of there bath towels and linen sets. We scored a king size duvet and sham in a champagne color with white bees emblazoned on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.restorationhardware.com/is/image/rhis/prod1500004_HOL06?$PD$" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="311" src="http://media.restorationhardware.com/is/image/rhis/prod1500004_HOL06?$PD$" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.restorationhardware.com/catalog/product/product.jsp?productId=prod1157487" target="_blank"&gt;image&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;I love this set and am loathe to part with it even though the sun has pretty much faded it into a ombre facsimile of what it once was. &amp;nbsp;SN: What drives me nuts is that this is such a popular set and yet, RH discontinued it and has no plans of bring it back. Believe me, I've checked in the stores. Numerous times. Had I known that it would be discontinued, would I have at least closed the curtains to protect it from fading? Maybe a couple of times, but this is a girl who throws hand wash only items in a laundry bag on the gentle cycle and crosses her fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywhoodle, I'm really into bees and am thinking that's going to be the theme for #3. &amp;nbsp;Morgan had giraffes, Coever had. . .um. . .oh yeah, pickles and ice cream, so it's only fair that Trip (short for Triple) has his/her own banner. &amp;nbsp;Thankfully, there is quite a bit of bee stuff out there; of course, most of what I'm looking at is with me in mind. &amp;nbsp;I mean, I'm the Queen Bee around here. . .(sorry, I couldn't resist).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/155726099584795646_OtSS9Vu1_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/155726099584795646_OtSS9Vu1_b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.notetosarah.tumblr.com/" target="_blank"&gt;image&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/155726099584783529_N1BaEdzW_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/155726099584783529_N1BaEdzW_b.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ballarddesigns.com/" target="_blank"&gt;image&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/155726099584758961_WdQED2Os_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="231" src="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/155726099584758961_WdQED2Os_b.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/" target="_blank"&gt;image&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-thing?.out=jpg&amp;amp;size=l&amp;amp;tid=16431387" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-thing?.out=jpg&amp;amp;size=l&amp;amp;tid=16431387" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.polyvore.com/" target="_blank"&gt;image&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/52987733085506228_qD9ouxlm_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" src="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/52987733085506228_qD9ouxlm_c.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/" target="_blank"&gt;image&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-8862675219463856574?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/8862675219463856574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=8862675219463856574&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/8862675219463856574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/8862675219463856574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2012/01/busy-as.html' title='Busy As A . . .'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-9022555725986764760</id><published>2012-01-04T20:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T08:42:47.068-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='winter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><title type='text'>Bookworm</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://medicines.tumblr.com/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/5699936997871792_ORzRpLx6_c.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.medicines.tumblr.com/"&gt;image&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;So, I had every intention of jumpstarting 2012 with some posts: a Monday message, a few recipes, a couple of funny tidbits about the girls and what they've been up to. &amp;nbsp;And then, on the last day of the Christmas Break 2011, I cracked open the first of George R.R. Martin's series A Song of Fire and Ice, the first book being. . . "A Game of Thrones."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And cut to me still sitting on the sofa, turning pages.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't check my email.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't get on Pinterest.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't get on Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't watch TV.&lt;br /&gt;I may have fed the family a time or two,&amp;nbsp;but mostly, I read.&lt;br /&gt;And I read.&lt;br /&gt;And I read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, it's not like I didn't watch the HBO series with the rest of the world. The entire first book is exactly what I saw Sunday after Sunday. &amp;nbsp;And yet, I still couldn't put it down. &amp;nbsp;Craig had warned me; he and his brother had read the books way before the show came out, but they had returned to them just as the series was starting. &amp;nbsp;Keep in mind, these books top off at about 900 + pages in paperback. &amp;nbsp;We're talking door-stops here, and yet both of them just burned right through it. &amp;nbsp;So, I picked up my copy of book one and that was all she wrote. &amp;nbsp;I couldn't.stop.reading it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished the first book yesterday and busied myself with some long overdue chores just so I wouldn't inhale the second book. &amp;nbsp;Given our book-wormish tendencies, I didn't doubt we had the entire series somewhere upstairs on a shelf. I had seen the last two books, most recently released, come into the house via Amazon not that long ago. I even remember chastising Craig, gently imploring him to take his time reading it because the next book wasn't going to be released for a while (he didn't listen, but I can't say that I blame him; a good book is a good book). &amp;nbsp;Anyway, I folded clothes. I put laundry away. I cleaned up the Christmas &lt;strike&gt;crap&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;decor and stored it in the attic. I straightened up the playroom (don't even get me started on that disaster). I did everything I could think of to keep myself from bee-lining to the office and ripping the book of the shelf. When I had finally put in enough work, I went straight for shelf only to find, it wasn't book 2 at all. &amp;nbsp;It was book 3. &amp;nbsp;What the what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember all those boxes left-over from the great office clean-up? Yeah, I went rooting through those looking for the book. It was ridiculous; "A Clash of Kings" became my Holy Grail for the afternoon; I had to find it. &amp;nbsp;I even texted Craig at work like, "Stop fooling around. Where's the book?" &amp;nbsp;His response?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you kidding me? You finished &lt;i&gt;Game of Thrones&lt;/i&gt; already?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, no &amp;nbsp;"Clash of Kings" in the house. What to do? What to do? I got online and checked the public library. &amp;nbsp;Success! &amp;nbsp;They had one copy on the shelf. Now, I knew I could put a hold on a book via on the online system, but I needed that book. As in &lt;b&gt;right now&amp;nbsp;(y&lt;/b&gt;es, I am totally outing myself on how crazy I am). I &lt;i&gt;called&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;the library and asked how soon I could get the book if I placed an online hold. &amp;nbsp;The lovely librarian explained that the online hold would have go through a cycle, blah, blah, blah, or he could just pull it for me now if it was available and I could pick it up later on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ka-ching! I know what our after-school activity was going to be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between securing the book and right now as I type this, I haven't had a chance to crack into yet. &amp;nbsp;You know, there was homework to be done, kids to feed, the usual. &amp;nbsp;Plus, I was feeling kind of badly that everyone else on my blog-roll has updated their blogs with Happy New Year/Back to the Blog/Did You Miss Me type posts. &amp;nbsp;I had nothing say since I'd been so absorbed in Winterfell, King's Landing, Riverrun, and the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoa. . . I really just said that. Next I'll be going to Toys 'R Us for my very own Dungeons and Dragons playset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-9022555725986764760?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/9022555725986764760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=9022555725986764760&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/9022555725986764760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/9022555725986764760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2012/01/bookworm.html' title='Bookworm'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-6301451539955935284</id><published>2011-12-24T08:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T12:44:35.454-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='winter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><title type='text'>In the Books</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Boy, another holiday season has come and gone. &amp;nbsp;It really does feel like just the other day we were unpacking the moving truck and hauling boxes into our new house. &amp;nbsp;I remember telling Craig, even on that blistering July day, I really wanted to have Christmas in our new house this year. &amp;nbsp;That Craig, he always delivers.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GV6uAy2MzdE/Tv97hTKaOeI/AAAAAAAAB94/m8TbkV9tN7M/s1600/_DSC0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GV6uAy2MzdE/Tv97hTKaOeI/AAAAAAAAB94/m8TbkV9tN7M/s400/_DSC0003.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;The girls have been out of school for close to two weeks. &amp;nbsp;I had envisioned them spending a few days with my parents while I got the rest of the holiday festivities in order, but unfortunately, my mom fell ill and my folks weren't able to make it up for Christmas. &amp;nbsp;It was different not celebrating with them, but my in-laws filled the house with their presence and presents. &amp;nbsp;Family is family and that's is what makes the memories. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls were staying up way past their regular bedtime over the break, even getting to stay up to wait for their Uncle Brandon to come in from NYC late Christmas Eve. &amp;nbsp;While they waited for him, they prepared for the arrival of another favorite fellow of theirs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KAu5WjL8qwY/Tv97iQKT9zI/AAAAAAAAB-A/0rt28mFRcOc/s1600/_DSC0014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KAu5WjL8qwY/Tv97iQKT9zI/AAAAAAAAB-A/0rt28mFRcOc/s400/_DSC0014.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, with much pleading and cajoling, we got them to go to bed. &amp;nbsp;Teeth brushed, pajamas on, snug as bugs in their make-shift camp-out on the floor. &amp;nbsp;Their heads hit the pillow and the silence was golden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dFhYGjcrDnw/Tv97jVAi8LI/AAAAAAAAB-I/_5pA9PVvaiA/s1600/_DSC0024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dFhYGjcrDnw/Tv97jVAi8LI/AAAAAAAAB-I/_5pA9PVvaiA/s320/_DSC0024.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Why yes, Coever sleeps with an eye pillow. Beauty rest assured.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pYsV3TxFvg8/Tv9-T4rlQiI/AAAAAAAAB_c/JalarCl-XaA/s1600/_DSC0029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pYsV3TxFvg8/Tv9-T4rlQiI/AAAAAAAAB_c/JalarCl-XaA/s320/_DSC0029.JPG" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9-pU4P9_KmQ/Tv9_if-s-zI/AAAAAAAAB_o/Q8-n-yp05Ms/s1600/_DSC0039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9-pU4P9_KmQ/Tv9_if-s-zI/AAAAAAAAB_o/Q8-n-yp05Ms/s320/_DSC0039.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;In the morning, the girls showed remarkable restraint and let everyone sleep in until about 7:15. &amp;nbsp;Everyone was pretty agreeable to that time frame, though I did think Mo and Co were going to shank Brandon when he didn't get out of the bed after their multiple attempts to rouse him. &amp;nbsp;While we waited for him to &lt;strike&gt;come to&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;get up, the girls were content to decimate their stockings before the main event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hXKei5KzU1w/Tv970Sq-cMI/AAAAAAAAB-Q/-0VLfmIY1v8/s1600/_DSC0036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hXKei5KzU1w/Tv970Sq-cMI/AAAAAAAAB-Q/-0VLfmIY1v8/s320/_DSC0036.JPG" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O0J__m1NjZA/Tv971GuUbTI/AAAAAAAAB-Y/J_WO1lu88Uw/s1600/_DSC0044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O0J__m1NjZA/Tv971GuUbTI/AAAAAAAAB-Y/J_WO1lu88Uw/s320/_DSC0044.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eWjwQJaELPc/Tv9719iyV4I/AAAAAAAAB-g/W5SGRF6ZzQY/s1600/_DSC0046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eWjwQJaELPc/Tv9719iyV4I/AAAAAAAAB-g/W5SGRF6ZzQY/s320/_DSC0046.JPG" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N36CkXUTrgY/Tv9_jW9fdMI/AAAAAAAAB_w/yiDfLSzMqlI/s1600/_DSC0052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N36CkXUTrgY/Tv9_jW9fdMI/AAAAAAAAB_w/yiDfLSzMqlI/s320/_DSC0052.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;And finally, to the gifts! Months and weeks of carefully hiding and wrapping, storing, and planning on my part: decimated in a matter of minutes. &amp;nbsp;Their smiles and cries of, "I got what I wanted! I got the whole set!" -- priceless.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IkiABTrRSMw/Tv98A723sxI/AAAAAAAAB-w/zvAMqVPKGD4/s1600/_DSC0065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IkiABTrRSMw/Tv98A723sxI/AAAAAAAAB-w/zvAMqVPKGD4/s320/_DSC0065.JPG" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ITwtYd-lOYQ/Tv98BtBxjRI/AAAAAAAAB-4/q29d8Si9dUE/s1600/_DSC0067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ITwtYd-lOYQ/Tv98BtBxjRI/AAAAAAAAB-4/q29d8Si9dUE/s320/_DSC0067.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ME-nqH1zDAo/Tv-AO92JVVI/AAAAAAAAB_8/jZSxB6TG86Q/s1600/_DSC0062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ME-nqH1zDAo/Tv-AO92JVVI/AAAAAAAAB_8/jZSxB6TG86Q/s320/_DSC0062.JPG" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uVjIOgWyGWo/Tv-APSm7qkI/AAAAAAAACAE/5f7rLI6sOkI/s1600/_DSC0063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uVjIOgWyGWo/Tv-APSm7qkI/AAAAAAAACAE/5f7rLI6sOkI/s320/_DSC0063.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pfwnwS6YkLE/Tv-AQMb3f7I/AAAAAAAACAM/UwIa2gyAbno/s1600/_DSC0070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pfwnwS6YkLE/Tv-AQMb3f7I/AAAAAAAACAM/UwIa2gyAbno/s320/_DSC0070.JPG" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ykGMMQbUrNU/Tv-ARXeD3SI/AAAAAAAACAU/gs_1E9ohlfw/s1600/_DSC0071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ykGMMQbUrNU/Tv-ARXeD3SI/AAAAAAAACAU/gs_1E9ohlfw/s320/_DSC0071.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;In the aftermath of the great unwrapping, there was food, lots of food. &amp;nbsp;Remarkably, we showed restraint this year and just had a modest brunch followed by a deliciously cooked dinner from my dear hubby (I like how at Thanksgiving and Christmas, Craig helms the kitchen!). &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;There was lots of loving to go around, too.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kIBq7eVh-No/Tv98YLlYgTI/AAAAAAAAB_A/lnizdzMf4w0/s1600/_DSC0094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kIBq7eVh-No/Tv98YLlYgTI/AAAAAAAAB_A/lnizdzMf4w0/s320/_DSC0094.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vvtvc_JulL4/Tv98Z_C-OdI/AAAAAAAAB_Q/AbFr2PkptrM/s1600/_DSC0145.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vvtvc_JulL4/Tv98Z_C-OdI/AAAAAAAAB_Q/AbFr2PkptrM/s320/_DSC0145.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;And the requisite silliness that comes with a revolving door of family and friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5NJjObgQv-8/Tv98ZAT4kyI/AAAAAAAAB_I/PQ_JTiAXclw/s1600/_DSC0125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5NJjObgQv-8/Tv98ZAT4kyI/AAAAAAAAB_I/PQ_JTiAXclw/s320/_DSC0125.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;In the midst of all of this, I realized I have been living the past two weeks like it's my first time home on a college break?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Sleeping in? Check.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Shuffling around in yoga pants all.day.long? Check.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Grubbing down on food? Check.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Hitting up the movies? Check.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Reading books? Check.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Date night with the hubs? Check.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Spending time with family? Check.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Generally avoiding schedules and just letting the day unfold? Check and check.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I weaned myself off of Pinterest and Facebook a bit, too. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Talk about Christmas miracles.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The past two weeks have been great and it seems appropriate that it all comes to a close just as this year does, too. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I can't even begin to remember where I was 365 days ago. &amp;nbsp;Despite years of conditioning to improve myself as the new year rolls around, this time last year, I kept it realistic and adopted a "new year, same Hilary" mentality. &amp;nbsp;That was not a hard resolution to follow. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;In truth, however, I did do some things this year that lead to a better me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;*I started a business and am enjoying the successes that have come with it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;*I wrote more. &amp;nbsp;Last year, I blogged 80 times. &amp;nbsp;This year, this post included --128.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;*I broke some old habits (nail biting) and picked up some new ones (Pinterest).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;*I stayed active and hung up my running shoes in favor of kettlebells.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;*I flossed. . .occasionally.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;*I was a better wife and mother than I was last year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Not a bad go round, if I do say so myself. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So I'm sitting here in the living room New Year's Eve with Craig dozing across from me on the couch. &amp;nbsp;Our tree is naked, save a few strands of lights. &amp;nbsp;It's shedding like it knows we're about to haul it out to the curb and it wants to leave a few thousand reminders of its presence. &amp;nbsp;The ornaments and the scant decorations we did have up are ready to be tucked back into the attic. &amp;nbsp;The fridge is puzzle of ziploc bags and tupperware containers of leftovers, gonna-eat-its, time-to-toss-its and a few cans of Fresca. &amp;nbsp;The girls are up to their eyeballs in Christmas: Part Deux at my parents house. &amp;nbsp;2011 is steadily putting one foot in front of the other, coming to a graceful end, while 2012 is stretching out it's hammies in preparation for the journey ahead.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'm ready.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Oh! I almost forgot. &amp;nbsp;I started another new project, but it won't be ready until June. &amp;nbsp;Here's a preview:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mzR3rCbKQ0Q/Tv-GO8WdQGI/AAAAAAAACAs/Uhf_m-0BABA/s1600/12wks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="303" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mzR3rCbKQ0Q/Tv-GO8WdQGI/AAAAAAAACAs/Uhf_m-0BABA/s400/12wks.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Happy New Year!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-6301451539955935284?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/6301451539955935284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=6301451539955935284&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/6301451539955935284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/6301451539955935284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/12/in-books.html' title='In the Books'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GV6uAy2MzdE/Tv97hTKaOeI/AAAAAAAAB94/m8TbkV9tN7M/s72-c/_DSC0003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-7739811323153740872</id><published>2011-12-23T13:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-23T13:04:26.859-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><title type='text'>Merry Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/33565959692233889_IRAk5wl7_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/33565959692233889_IRAk5wl7_c.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nattymichelle.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Eat dessert. Give out hugs. Get some kisses. Laugh until your stomach hurts. Say "I love you." Drive safely. Smile. Take lots of pictures. &amp;nbsp;Have seconds. Take a nap. &amp;nbsp;Put away your phone. Play cards. Play a board game. &amp;nbsp;Really listen. &amp;nbsp;Share. &amp;nbsp;Continue a tradition. Start a new one. Be in the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However you choose to celebrate this time of year, do so wholeheartedly.&amp;nbsp;I hope that you have a wonderful Christmas filled with the family, the friends, the food, and the fellowship that brings you joy and love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-7739811323153740872?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/7739811323153740872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=7739811323153740872&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/7739811323153740872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/7739811323153740872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-1361064463421398706</id><published>2011-12-23T12:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-23T12:34:07.762-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Recipe Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://katesonders.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/IMG_0176-400x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://katesonders.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/IMG_0176-400x300.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://katesonders.com/blog/2010/01/tony-danzas-sunday-sauce-with-meatballs/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want some spaghetti and meatballs. &amp;nbsp;So random, I know, what with it being Christmas Eve-Eve. I should be wanting some cookies or egg nog or some kind of peppermint based ooey, gooey goodness.&lt;br /&gt;My taste buds and my tummy didn't get the memo. &amp;nbsp;Truth be told, I don't really care for peppermint treats and after the &lt;a href="http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/12/cookie-monsters.html" target="_blank"&gt;bake-a-thon&lt;/a&gt; we had earlier this week, I'm kind of cookie-ed out. &amp;nbsp;I know! I'm just as surprised as you are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in the mood for something savory and something super comforting. &amp;nbsp;SN: My mom fell ill earlier this week and won't be able to join us for Christmas. My dad, ever the dutiful husband, is going to stay home to nurse her back to health. This is the first Christmas in a long time when I haven't seen my folks and I think I'm feeling kind of badly about it. &amp;nbsp;Actually, I &lt;i&gt;know&lt;/i&gt; I'm feeling badly about it, hence the need for some comfort food. Spaghetti and meatballs definitely makes the list. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This recipe I originally got from my mom's next-door neighbor. &amp;nbsp;When I looked it up online, there turned out to be two different versions, both accompanied by the Danza family Sunday Sauce. &amp;nbsp;One version of the meatballs calls for pork ribs in addition to the pound of ground meat. &amp;nbsp;The meatball recipe from the neighbor had omitted that, so that's what I'm sharing with you now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the Sunday Sauce, well, &amp;nbsp;I haven't made it yet. I'm Prego or Ragu girl, sometimes a Classico or Francesco Rinaldi. &amp;nbsp;I would rather start with that as a base and then add my own concoction of herbs, spices, wines and meats to get something really special going. &amp;nbsp;Besides, when I'm busy making meatballs, I'm just trying to get it from the pan to the plate in as few steps as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One note on this recipe - it calls for a tablespoon of salt, which I think is quite a bit. &amp;nbsp;I usually do half; I'd rather the salt the meatballs with my meal than not be able to enjoy it at all. &amp;nbsp;I'm happy to eat this with a salad and some buttered bread, but it tastes pretty good as a stand-alone dish, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy and have a very, very Happy Holiday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h4 style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif; font-size: 15px !important; line-height: 23px !important; margin-bottom: 22px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 150px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #555555; display: inline !important; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;strong style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Sunday Sauce with Meatballs (recipe found &lt;a href="http://katesonders.com/blog/2010/01/tony-danzas-sunday-sauce-with-meatballs/" target="_blank"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 23px; margin-bottom: 22px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 150px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #555555; font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sauce:&lt;br /&gt;2 cans (35 ounces each) plum tomatoes with basil&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil&lt;br /&gt;4 garlic cloves, chopped&lt;br /&gt;1 medium onion, chopped&lt;br /&gt;1/2 teaspoon black pepper&lt;br /&gt;1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup red wine&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese&lt;br /&gt;1 teaspoon salt&lt;br /&gt;1 cup water&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup fresh basil leaves, cut into thin strips&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #555555; font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Meatballs&lt;br /&gt;1 pound ground sirloin or lean ground beef, pork, turkey, veal, chicken, or any combination&lt;br /&gt;2 eggs&lt;br /&gt;6 garlic cloves, finely chopped&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup seasoned bread crumbs&lt;br /&gt;1 tablespoons salt&lt;br /&gt;1 tablespoon black pepper&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup milk&lt;br /&gt;1 cup all-purpose flour&lt;br /&gt;1 cup extra virgin olive oil&lt;br /&gt;3 garlic cloves, chopped&lt;br /&gt;1 can (6 ounces) tomato paste&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #555555; font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. Strain the tomatoes in a colander to extract the juice, breaking the tomatoes apart with your hands. Discard the pulp. (This eliminates the bitter part of the tomato.)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #555555; font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Now make the meatballs. Put the ground meat in a mixing bowl. Beat the eggs and add them to the meat along with 6 cloves garlic, the bread crumbs, salt, pepper, Parmesan, and milk. Mix this all together with your hands. Wet your hands with water and continue to wet them as you pinch meat from the bowl and roll into 2-inch balls. Roll the balls in the flour.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #555555; font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Heat the oil in a large skillet. Add 3 cloves chopped garlic and sauté until golden brown. Remove the garlic with a slotted spoon and set aside. Add the meatballs and sauté over medium-high heat, turning them, until they are brown all over. As soon as you can pick them up with a fork, they are ready. You don’t want them to be well done. (If the meatball slides off the fork when you pick it up, it needs to cook a little longer.)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #555555; display: inline !important; font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;4. Back to the sauce: Heat the olive oil in a large pot over medium-high heat. Add 4 cloves garlic, the onion, red and black pepper and sauté until the onion is soft and beginning to brown, about 5 minutes. Add the juiced tomatoes, red wine, Parmesan, and salt. Add the tomato paste and the water and stir together over medium heat. Add the meatballs. Bring to an easy boil, then simmer over low heat for 2 hours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 22px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 150px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 23px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #555555; font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 23px;"&gt;5. Add the basil and simmer for 15 minutes more. The meatballs should float in the sauce.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-1361064463421398706?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/1361064463421398706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=1361064463421398706&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/1361064463421398706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/1361064463421398706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/12/recipe-friday_23.html' title='Recipe Friday'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-9091943206735097747</id><published>2011-12-22T10:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-22T10:39:38.085-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><title type='text'>Sparkles</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/33565959692235476_R7cO2xFx_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/33565959692235476_R7cO2xFx_b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.net-a-porter.com/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://stylemethrifty.files.wordpress.com/2011/09/mod-cloth-striking-gold-dress.jpg?w=401&amp;amp;h=513" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://stylemethrifty.files.wordpress.com/2011/09/mod-cloth-striking-gold-dress.jpg?w=401&amp;amp;h=513" width="250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.modcloth.com/shop/dresses/striking-gold-dress" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/33565959692333167_VUZpZzKm_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/33565959692333167_VUZpZzKm_b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.net-a-porter.com/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/218424650647134147_6EXuYZkK_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/218424650647134147_6EXuYZkK_b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.atlantic-pacific.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/33565959692222818_NOP2y1HQ_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/33565959692222818_NOP2y1HQ_b.jpg" width="160" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.intermixonline.com/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/33565959692404800_Rgqk676W_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/33565959692404800_Rgqk676W_b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.piperlime.gap.com/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/33565959692282693_3gzMK0vw_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/33565959692282693_3gzMK0vw_b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.superburbs.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to invest in something sparkly and fun. &amp;nbsp;I haven't worn anything with sequins since 1984 when a handful of 4 year olds and I performed "Kids are People, Too!" during Miss Ryder's School of Ballet spring recital. &amp;nbsp;I'm not saying I'm retiring my black, gray, and navy staples. It's just time to add a splash of "wheeeeee!' into the mix. I'm ready to twinkle this holiday season.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-9091943206735097747?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/9091943206735097747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=9091943206735097747&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/9091943206735097747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/9091943206735097747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/12/sparkles.html' title='Sparkles'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-2099321136277783398</id><published>2011-12-22T08:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-22T08:31:24.338-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crafts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my girls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><title type='text'>Cookie Monsters</title><content type='html'>The girls are on Christmas break and I have no clue what to do to occupy our time. &amp;nbsp;We had a few playdates, a birthday party here and there, but I was counting on them having some quality time with my parents. &amp;nbsp;Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans. So what's a girl to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I broke out the cookie press, most certainly assuring&amp;nbsp;my place on the "nice" list this year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cookie press promised to make cookie baking a breeze, of course, you can't always believe everything you read. &amp;nbsp;Last year, I called myself being smart and used some Pillsbury Slice and Bake sugar cookie dough that I squished into the pressing chamber. The results were pretty decent. &amp;nbsp;This year however, I whipped up some sugar cookie dough on my own. I mashed it into the chamber, affixed my chosen cut out and began squeezing to my hearts content.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cookie press, when used correctly, makes a &lt;i&gt;*click*&lt;/i&gt; noise when enough dough has been dispensed per cookie per place on the cookie sheet. &amp;nbsp;My press was going,&lt;i&gt;*clickity*clickity*click*click*gimme a break, lady!*&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;Yeah, not fun. &amp;nbsp;Still, I managed to get my two trays filled and in the oven. &amp;nbsp;Then I unscrewed the cookie press and with a kung fu grip that would have made G.I. Joe think twice, I shot the unused dough back into the bowl. &amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Totally &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;satisfying. &amp;nbsp;The remaining dough I just scooped up into drop cookies, flattened with my palm and sprinkled with some Christmas sprinkles. &amp;nbsp;There's no way I'll ever be on Top Chef desserts; my sprinkling technique looks like they were done by a blind person with Parkinson's disease. &amp;nbsp;Still, the cookies tasted pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the cookie press cookies came out of the oven, they looked okay, but they were a bit crispy. More like Christmas crackers than cookies (don't worry, they'll get eaten). &amp;nbsp;The drop cookies were exactly how you want your sugar cookie to be: kind of round, kind of warm, plenty soft and plenty sugary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So after the first go-round of cookies, I made some more dough and then I turned Mo and Co loose with the rolling pin,&amp;nbsp;cookie cutters, and sprinkles.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s6rpKTeG0Ow/TvMqwLq-joI/AAAAAAAAB8U/3jbFUVVwLTU/s1600/cookies-18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s6rpKTeG0Ow/TvMqwLq-joI/AAAAAAAAB8U/3jbFUVVwLTU/s320/cookies-18.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hHLkeR9ayX8/TvMqwrTKweI/AAAAAAAAB8c/8-f5tq6PJD8/s1600/cookies-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hHLkeR9ayX8/TvMqwrTKweI/AAAAAAAAB8c/8-f5tq6PJD8/s320/cookies-20.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7Alz_NCjnX4/TvMqdMK_iJI/AAAAAAAAB7k/MtjsFeOW0mk/s1600/cookies-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7Alz_NCjnX4/TvMqdMK_iJI/AAAAAAAAB7k/MtjsFeOW0mk/s320/cookies-11.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9mPMhk2pvg/TvMqhCHa2MI/AAAAAAAAB8E/DiQUJQrztyY/s1600/cookies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9mPMhk2pvg/TvMqhCHa2MI/AAAAAAAAB8E/DiQUJQrztyY/s320/cookies.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qZzlkYv3Ga8/TvMqeRmbiSI/AAAAAAAAB7s/7P9qOwdWgrI/s1600/cookies-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qZzlkYv3Ga8/TvMqeRmbiSI/AAAAAAAAB7s/7P9qOwdWgrI/s320/cookies-13.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XrmcFti5Kp4/TvMs7U0-YOI/AAAAAAAAB9k/OEamRksvPpM/s1600/cookies-26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XrmcFti5Kp4/TvMs7U0-YOI/AAAAAAAAB9k/OEamRksvPpM/s320/cookies-26.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q3Wnb3IaCz8/TvMssAYopSI/AAAAAAAAB9I/X7D79zRF5cE/s1600/cookies-25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q3Wnb3IaCz8/TvMssAYopSI/AAAAAAAAB9I/X7D79zRF5cE/s320/cookies-25.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bmbFWlvfFqA/TvMs6SU33YI/AAAAAAAAB9c/DCgFdt4r-ww/s1600/cookies-19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bmbFWlvfFqA/TvMs6SU33YI/AAAAAAAAB9c/DCgFdt4r-ww/s320/cookies-19.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DKsFUaUafLo/TvMqvBySrwI/AAAAAAAAB8M/tHHFoo0ETdE/s1600/cookies-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DKsFUaUafLo/TvMqvBySrwI/AAAAAAAAB8M/tHHFoo0ETdE/s320/cookies-3.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9n-Vr936gIM/TvMqfXZy1gI/AAAAAAAAB70/eHO2xx1cfGg/s1600/cookies-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9n-Vr936gIM/TvMqfXZy1gI/AAAAAAAAB70/eHO2xx1cfGg/s320/cookies-14.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9euLVh-kE-Q/TvMqgq9pebI/AAAAAAAAB78/My_CZow6CB8/s1600/cookies-22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9euLVh-kE-Q/TvMqgq9pebI/AAAAAAAAB78/My_CZow6CB8/s320/cookies-22.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;Now you all know that I have a Type A personality. I like a clean kitchen. I can't stand a mess. &amp;nbsp;I like it when people follow directions. &amp;nbsp;This Christmas cookie endeavor tested all my reserves. &amp;nbsp;Thankfully, I could quell my nerves with my aforementioned Christmas crackers! I figured it my mouth was full, there was no way I could shout, "Keep the sprinkles on the cookies, not the floor!" or "Cut out the dough, don't eat it!" or "Stop beating your sister with the rolling pin!" &amp;nbsp;Ahhh, the holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did have to intervene in order to explain to Morgan the concept of "sprinkle" since she decide to clothe her cookie cut-outs in red sugar. &amp;nbsp;"But it's her Christmas dress," she said to me. &amp;nbsp;Clearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gV50B4vivzA/TvMqxwnGHUI/AAAAAAAAB8k/0wCWjjq6n2c/s1600/cookies-23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gV50B4vivzA/TvMqxwnGHUI/AAAAAAAAB8k/0wCWjjq6n2c/s320/cookies-23.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The majority of the cookies were way thicker than the recommended 1/4 inch thickness the recipe recommended. &amp;nbsp;We haven't covered units of measure in preschool or first grade yet, so whatevs. &amp;nbsp;It was a risk we were willing to take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-os_fn_5v1ZM/TvMsqRB76uI/AAAAAAAAB84/ABIVMm7alro/s1600/cookies-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-os_fn_5v1ZM/TvMsqRB76uI/AAAAAAAAB84/ABIVMm7alro/s320/cookies-9.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;When they baked, they puffed up like &lt;a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?q=lisa+rinna+lips&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;client=safari&amp;amp;sa=X&amp;amp;rls=en&amp;amp;biw=1208&amp;amp;bih=684&amp;amp;tbm=isch&amp;amp;prmd=imvnso&amp;amp;tbnid=KDRG5K2KGjTYbM:&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://www.celebritysmackblog.com/2010/10/06/lisa-rinna-lips-before-after-surgery-photos-pics/&amp;amp;docid=3NB7bBzSclXIOM&amp;amp;imgurl=http://c580019.r19.cf2.rackcdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/lisa-rinna-before-lips.jpg&amp;amp;w=210&amp;amp;h=280&amp;amp;ei=vS3zTpidOqjf0QHJ6KEg&amp;amp;zoom=1&amp;amp;iact=hc&amp;amp;vpx=109&amp;amp;vpy=330&amp;amp;dur=592&amp;amp;hovh=224&amp;amp;hovw=168&amp;amp;tx=79&amp;amp;ty=126&amp;amp;sig=101489989868677517150&amp;amp;page=3&amp;amp;tbnh=141&amp;amp;tbnw=106&amp;amp;start=41&amp;amp;ndsp=20&amp;amp;ved=1t:429,r:7,s:41" target="_blank"&gt;Lisa Rinna's old lips&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f9At6Rxrjhc/TvMs8YkBzgI/AAAAAAAAB9s/aIsPIK3UKPQ/s1600/cookies-31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f9At6Rxrjhc/TvMs8YkBzgI/AAAAAAAAB9s/aIsPIK3UKPQ/s320/cookies-31.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;Despite my hesitation, it turned out to be a great afternoon for me and my girls. &amp;nbsp; The Christmas tree glowed softly in the living room while we had tea and cookies followed by some serious lazing about on the sofas. &amp;nbsp;Sometimes, having no plan is the best plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-2099321136277783398?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/2099321136277783398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=2099321136277783398&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/2099321136277783398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/2099321136277783398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/12/cookie-monsters.html' title='Cookie Monsters'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s6rpKTeG0Ow/TvMqwLq-joI/AAAAAAAAB8U/3jbFUVVwLTU/s72-c/cookies-18.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-6147934705217927859</id><published>2011-12-20T08:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T08:33:38.536-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='winter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><title type='text'>Christmas Countdown</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Five more days!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;The tree is up, lit, and decorated. &amp;nbsp;I even remembered to water it. In fact, I'm so on top of my tree watering responsibilities, I caused a minor flood in the living room. &amp;nbsp;Note to self: make sure the carpet is dry before trying to suck up stray pine needles with the vacuum or chaos will ensue.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;The stockings are hung and I hope I got enough stuff with which to stuff them. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You can't see mine or Craig's, but they're up there. &amp;nbsp;I hope Craig got a little something for my stocking. It's kind of sad to have to stuff your own. Of course, I do have a few things in reserve just in case I need to fill out the toe or something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GQk8pa_R2zc/TvCLGKEuIzI/AAAAAAAAB60/V3ds51q_MvY/s1600/stockings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GQk8pa_R2zc/TvCLGKEuIzI/AAAAAAAAB60/V3ds51q_MvY/s320/stockings.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6899pL5X0OI/TvCLFCOHvPI/AAAAAAAAB6s/C_Xsyg5QGUM/s1600/stockings-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6899pL5X0OI/TvCLFCOHvPI/AAAAAAAAB6s/C_Xsyg5QGUM/s320/stockings-3.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;The gifts have been purchased, wrapped and secretly stashed in the guest room closet. &amp;nbsp;I told the girls that the Christmas Wish List Deadline has come and gone, so any addendums or amendments will have to be taken up with the jolly elf for next year.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Here's Morgan's list. &amp;nbsp;I think she had several pages and gave one to each of her grandmothers and one to me. &amp;nbsp;Covering all of her bases, it would seem. &amp;nbsp;Top items include a coloring book, a stand to put it on (an easel), six sets of paint, brushes, a stool to sit on, and a plate for the paint (a palette). &amp;nbsp;The second page gets into more descriptive talk of magic wands and spell books. &amp;nbsp;This should be an interesting Christmas morning.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zZ158JDmAEc/TvCMyEdVllI/AAAAAAAAB68/IvxFTFTJ95U/s1600/stockings-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zZ158JDmAEc/TvCMyEdVllI/AAAAAAAAB68/IvxFTFTJ95U/s320/stockings-5.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;Coever kept it short and simple with some illustrations so there would be no confusion. That would be a Zhu-Zhu pet castle set, coloring book, Nintendo DS (DS for those in the know), and perfume. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lXJQb9PfRZM/TvCMzGVB1eI/AAAAAAAAB7E/2mXcvFtKhI8/s1600/stockings-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lXJQb9PfRZM/TvCMzGVB1eI/AAAAAAAAB7E/2mXcvFtKhI8/s320/stockings-7.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;The menu for Christmas dinner has been planned, tweaked, and all the items have been purchased. &amp;nbsp;It took the better part of the morning and into the afternoon, as well as trips to two separate grocers, but we are prepared. &amp;nbsp;All I can say is that the family better come hungry. &amp;nbsp;During this marathon grocery run, &amp;nbsp;we talked about being on the Nice List and the Naughty List. &amp;nbsp;I asked the girls to give me some examples of when they had been nice in the past few days. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Coever, taking a deep breath, said, "Well. . . .when I was at school? I didn't push Isabella to get out of my way to use the crayons!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Oh boy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Not to be outdone, Morgan inhaled deeply before informing me, "Well! I didn't cry when Mom said that we couldn't watch anymore television last night."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Oy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I suppose what you &lt;i&gt;don't&lt;/i&gt; do is just as important as what you actually do &lt;i&gt;do&lt;/i&gt;, so technically, that counts as being nice. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Moving on. The Christmas dresses arrived, which meant the photo for the Christmas card could be taken. &amp;nbsp;The cards, in turn have been stuffed, addressed, stamped and sent. &amp;nbsp; There were a few minutes during the envelope licking that I felt like &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Invitations" target="_blank"&gt;that episode from Seinfeld&lt;/a&gt; and I was pretty sure I was going to go into an envelope glue induced coma.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Here are a few practice shots from our Christmas Card photo shoot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-18AK7YVw4lg/TvB6ro5ZDrI/AAAAAAAAB6E/Pm9ZKBKdNOQ/s1600/rocking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="256" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-18AK7YVw4lg/TvB6ro5ZDrI/AAAAAAAAB6E/Pm9ZKBKdNOQ/s320/rocking.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B5yY0AzO7z4/TvB6iK16ijI/AAAAAAAAB4s/q-m9m6lr3HY/s1600/lights-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B5yY0AzO7z4/TvB6iK16ijI/AAAAAAAAB4s/q-m9m6lr3HY/s320/lights-6.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U0G8F0ZRP3k/TvB6kEi4TdI/AAAAAAAAB48/6pteJiGNEhA/s1600/lights-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U0G8F0ZRP3k/TvB6kEi4TdI/AAAAAAAAB48/6pteJiGNEhA/s320/lights-8.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KDJ_EKRWtNo/TvB6kwmMQZI/AAAAAAAAB5E/aDvQ6493J0c/s1600/lights-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KDJ_EKRWtNo/TvB6kwmMQZI/AAAAAAAAB5E/aDvQ6493J0c/s320/lights-9.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9mQAsuRvan8/TvB6n5YORcI/AAAAAAAAB5c/KP0uvtg02Lk/s1600/lights-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9mQAsuRvan8/TvB6n5YORcI/AAAAAAAAB5c/KP0uvtg02Lk/s320/lights-12.jpg" width="219" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xz1q6qM7q-4/TvB6o-G-MlI/AAAAAAAAB5k/dF_tQb46jcc/s1600/lights-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xz1q6qM7q-4/TvB6o-G-MlI/AAAAAAAAB5k/dF_tQb46jcc/s320/lights-13.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Would you believe they were actually fighting over who would get tied up? If I'd been on my game, I'd have tied up the both of them, taken the picture and then gone downstairs for a cup of coffee. &amp;nbsp;They both enjoyed it so much, I had to have them rock, paper, scissors it out to determine who would be tied up on the card. &amp;nbsp;Rock, paper, scissors has miraculously become our peace keeping, problem solving technique around the house. &amp;nbsp;Of course, Morgan caught on early that Coever tends to favor paper over, and over (and over and over), so more often than not, Morgan scissors her way to the win. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School is out for vacation and all of the Christmas parties and pageants have been attended. Morgan's school had a pageant last Friday. &amp;nbsp;Of course I planned to be there, but I had to do some serious maneuvering to make sure I was on time. &amp;nbsp;I had Coever go to school with a friend so I could get Morgan to school on time and make sure I secured a seat for myself and my camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pageant was scheduled to start promptly at 9am. We got to school at our normal time of about 8:15 and the place was packed. &amp;nbsp;There were some open seats in the back, but I was hoping to get a little closer for some pictures of Morgan and the crew of angels. &amp;nbsp;I was about to slide myself into a pew when this voice says, "Taken! Taken! This row is all taken!"&amp;nbsp;I felt like Forrest Gump when he got on the bus for the first day of school.&amp;nbsp;Um, what happened to the Christmas spirit? We're in a church! &amp;nbsp;Long story short, the seats in the back were just fine. I got to see Morgan do her thing; the entire living nativity and performance was lovely. And it lasted all of 20 minutes. &amp;nbsp;There truly are Christmas miracles!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u7yW2-iUm_o/TvCGQ1G0inI/AAAAAAAAB6M/SlmEtwJ42-s/s1600/pageant-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u7yW2-iUm_o/TvCGQ1G0inI/AAAAAAAAB6M/SlmEtwJ42-s/s320/pageant-4.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BnTuf-sOCug/TvCGRmLTIdI/AAAAAAAAB6U/sqNJ-_2Sf9A/s1600/pageant-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BnTuf-sOCug/TvCGRmLTIdI/AAAAAAAAB6U/sqNJ-_2Sf9A/s320/pageant-9.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OB2q3A6dc0o/TvCGS7c5-JI/AAAAAAAAB6c/CVgoDR4y0wo/s1600/pageant-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OB2q3A6dc0o/TvCGS7c5-JI/AAAAAAAAB6c/CVgoDR4y0wo/s320/pageant-16.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Sitting in the back pew of the church, watching Morgan belt out "Gloria" with the chorus of angels, and then seeing her see me when she recessed down the aisle, I felt nostalgic for all the times it was me coming down the row and catching my mom's eye. &amp;nbsp;Maybe I'm getting sentimental as the holiday season progresses, but I realize how much behind the scenes stuff my mom did to make our holidays and our in between times so special. &amp;nbsp;After the pageant, I called her up and thanked her for all of her sojourns to my elementary school, my middle school, my high school where she sat and applauded concerts, honor society inductions, student council installations and the like. &amp;nbsp;I think that phone call was all the Christmas present she needed.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;All in all, it is shaping up to be a wonderful Christmas holiday. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;"&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/6647037438141813038-6147934705217927859?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/6147934705217927859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=6147934705217927859&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/6147934705217927859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/6147934705217927859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-countdown.html' title='Christmas Countdown'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GQk8pa_R2zc/TvCLGKEuIzI/AAAAAAAAB60/V3ds51q_MvY/s72-c/stockings.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-5764437665024356643</id><published>2011-12-16T16:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T16:25:01.017-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Recipe Friday</title><content type='html'>Despite it being the midst of the holiday season, I have yet to crack the oven open to fire up any holiday treats. No gingerbread men. No sugar cookies. No *gasp* rum balls (it's going to be a very dry Christmas). &amp;nbsp;It would seem that time and my best of intentions have gotten away from me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't despair though, because on the savory side of things, I've been putting in some serious work. &amp;nbsp;For some reason, whenever I bring groceries into the house, the get eaten. &amp;nbsp;Has this ever happened to you? I put stuff in the pantry, and then the next time I open it to get out fixin's for another meal, half the store is depleted. What is going here? Who keeps eating the food?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier this week, I was culling stuff together out of the back corners of the pantry and the recesses of the freezer. &amp;nbsp;Monday night, it was "I-wish-it-was-more" tacos. You know, half a tomato, a little bit of lettuce, a pinch of mozzarella, and instead of ground beef, left over chicken from a rotisserie bird Craig had fired up for Sunday dinner. &amp;nbsp;I heated the chicken in a pan and poured some salsa over it to give it a little zing. &amp;nbsp;The children were not impressed. &amp;nbsp;They told me to"please pack my knives and go".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;One night it was baked penne made with half a box of penne, Italian sausage that had been frozen since we moved (uh, that would be July), a quarter of a bag of mozzarella cheese and a jar or spaghetti sauce neither Craig nor I remember buying. &amp;nbsp;Thankfully high temps in the 375 range and high kill off all bacteria and dinner was a more better than we had hoped. &amp;nbsp;And yes, I did set aside a healthy part of that half a box of penne for some buttered noodles for the girls. &amp;nbsp;I'm no dummy; making pasta of any kind means a side of buttered noodles for the preschool set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the yesterday, I felt like Old Mother Hubbard, the cupboard was that bare. &amp;nbsp;'Lo and behold, though, behind a box holding a single Eggo waffle and peeking out from behind a box of frozen peas (who bought &lt;i&gt;those&lt;/i&gt;?), there was a a lone ribeye steak and a container of about 5 sea scallops. &amp;nbsp;Surf and turf, anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pulled it out and set it to defrost. &amp;nbsp;I opened the fridge and grabbed the remaining three lonely slices of bacon, and reached into the crisper for miracle salad (it was a miracle there were greens in the fridge). &amp;nbsp;I dug out some potatoes and packet of onion soup mix and got to work. &amp;nbsp;When it was all said and done, dinner was seared ribeye steak with bacon wrapped scallops, roasted onion potatoes and a fresh salad. &amp;nbsp;Not to break my arm patting myself on the back, but it was mighty tasty. &amp;nbsp;Craig even got up from the table to plant a kiss on my forehead and say, "That dinner was grrrrrrrrrreat!" Just call me Top Chef.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason, I was under the impression that bacon-wrapped scallops were challenging to make, but as it turns out, it was surprisingly easy. &amp;nbsp;They will definitely be making an appearance at Christmas dinner. &amp;nbsp;What's going on your holiday menu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.recipegirl.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/Bacon-Wrapped-Scallops-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://www.recipegirl.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/Bacon-Wrapped-Scallops-5.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.recipegirl.com/2011/09/19/bacon-wrapped-scallops-with-spicy-cilantro-mayonnaise/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Recipe courtesy of &lt;a href="http://www.recipegirl.com/2011/09/19/bacon-wrapped-scallops-with-spicy-cilantro-mayonnaise/" target="_blank"&gt;Recipe Girl.&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;I didn't make the spicy mayo, but I'm sure it tastes great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #54514f; font-family: 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'Trebuchet MS', Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;span class="item"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2 class="fn" style="color: #910026; font-family: AllerRegular, 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'Trebuchet MS', Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: -1px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-transform: lowercase; vertical-align: middle;"&gt;bacon- wrapped scallops w/ spicy cilantro-mayonnaise&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;div class="yield" style="color: #9d9690; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Yield:&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="yield"&gt;8 servings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="time" style="clear: left; color: #9d9690; float: left; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Prep Time:&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="preptime"&gt;30 min&lt;span class="value-title" title="PT30M"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="time" style="color: #9d9690; float: left; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cook Time:&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="cooktime"&gt;20 min&lt;span class="value-title" title="PT20M"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="summary" style="clear: left; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 1px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;These make a wonderful appetizer, but they also are great to nibble as a light dinner!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h3 style="border-bottom-color: rgb(221, 217, 206); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; clear: left; color: #9d9690; display: block; font-family: AllerRegular, 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'Trebuchet MS', Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 15px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;Ingredients:&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div class="ingredient" style="font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Spicy- Cilantro Mayonnaise:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3/4 cup mayonnaise&lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 tablespoons ground chili paste&lt;br /&gt;1 medium lime, juiced&lt;br /&gt;1 tablespoon finely chopped cilantro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Scallops:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 pounds scallops, rinsed and dried&lt;br /&gt;3/4 to 1 pound thin sliced bacon (not center cut), strips cut in half crosswise&lt;br /&gt;sea salt &amp;amp; freshly ground black pepper&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;large lettuce leaves, for serving&lt;br /&gt;lettuce leaves, for serving&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h3 style="border-bottom-color: rgb(221, 217, 206); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; clear: both; color: #9d9690; display: block; font-family: AllerRegular, 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'Trebuchet MS', Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 15px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;Directions:&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div class="instructions" style="font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;1.&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Prepare the spicy cilantro mayo:&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;In a medium bowl, combine mayonnaise, hot chili paste, lime juice and cilantro; stir well. Cover and refrigerate until ready to serve.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;2.&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Prepare the scallops:&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;Preheat your oven broiler. Spray a rimmed baking sheet with nonstick spray. Wrap each scallop with a piece of bacon and secure with a wooden toothpick. Place the bacon-wrapped scallops onto the prepared baking sheet and season them with salt and pepper. Cook them under the broiler for about 15 to 20 minutes, or until the bacon is cooked through- turning once mid-way through.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;3. To serve, line a large platter with lettuce leaves and place the bacon-wrapped scallops on top. Serve with a dish of the spicy mayonnaise for dipping.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h3 style="border-bottom-color: rgb(221, 217, 206); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; clear: both; color: #9d9690; display: block; font-family: AllerRegular, 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'Trebuchet MS', Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 15px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;Tips:&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div class="extra" style="font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;*The number of scallops this recipe will yield depends entirely on the size of your scallops. I like to use large scallops. They shrink a little bit during the broiling process, but they make a nice and hearty appetizer. Tiny scallops just aren't very exciting.&lt;br /&gt;*Ground chili paste can usually be found in your market's Asian product's aisle (I used one called Sambal Oelek). If you have something similar- maybe another spicy sauce, try substituting that (just add a little at a time until you reach your desired level of heat).&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Make ahead tip:&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;Make the sauce ahead of time and refrigerate. Wrap all of your scallops and refrigerate, then just put them under the broiler when you're ready to serve!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="source" style="color: #9d9690; font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-5764437665024356643?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/5764437665024356643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=5764437665024356643&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5764437665024356643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5764437665024356643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/12/recipe-friday.html' title='Recipe Friday'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-3244213531409501573</id><published>2011-12-14T15:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-14T15:37:30.372-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shutterbug</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lgei879BRC1qcty8jo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lgei879BRC1qcty8jo1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://tumblr.photojojo.com/post/3255149085/some-of-the-best-tourism-photos-are-the-ones-taken" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;What a crazy few weeks it has been. &amp;nbsp;I've had shoots booked the last several week-ends, which means, during the week, I am busy editing and getting images ready to go back out to clients and on our &lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/" target="_blank"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt;. &amp;nbsp;Believe me, there are worse problems to have, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These shoot, in turn, have generated buzz with some other people who are interested in having pictures done, if possible before Christmas. &amp;nbsp;That qualifies for a miracle, for sure, but thankfully, everyone has been so reasonable. &amp;nbsp;It's crazy cool to be able to say, "I'm already shooting that day, but let's see what other dates are available." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My colleague, Kendall, over at &lt;a href="http://www.thisishappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;This is Happily Ever After&lt;/a&gt;, has also been booking like crazy. I am so grateful that she and I are partners in this venture. It's been exciting, educational, and so much fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In addition to snapping it up for business, I finally got the girls 1) dressed in their Christmas finery and &amp;nbsp;2) in a good mood (gotta have both parts) so that I could snap our holiday photo. &amp;nbsp;They requested some holiday tunes during the shoot and I think they'd have sent me downstairs for craft services if I hadn't kept things moving. &amp;nbsp;You &amp;nbsp;know how in some of those celeb magazines like &lt;i&gt;Us Weekly&lt;/i&gt; or &lt;i&gt;In Touch&lt;/i&gt;, they give you the details about whose on the cover of such and such magazine?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who:&lt;/b&gt; Morgan and Coever&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hometown:&lt;/b&gt; Richmond and Norfolk, VA, respectively&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Wardrobe:&lt;/b&gt; The girls showed up in playclothes, but enthusiastically slipped into bespoke Christmas dresses courtesy of their grandma&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;On Location:&lt;/b&gt; The girls rocked out to "All I Want for Christmas is you" by Mariah Carey, "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" by the Jackson 5, "Santa Baby" by Eartha Kitt, and&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;"The 12 Days of Christmas" by Straight No Chaser.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SN: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Fe11OlMiz8" target="_blank"&gt;"The 12 Days of Christmas" by Straight No Chaser&lt;/a&gt; is one of my favorite renditions of this song and every time it comes on, Craig just shakes his head as my dorkdom increases. Hey, I'm getting in the Christmas spirit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, in the midst of all that's going on in preparation for the holiday, I realized that I haven't even baked anything yet. I've been on a serious baking hiatus since the end of October. I think I overdid it on that pumpkin K-cup coffee and my taste buds are on strike. &amp;nbsp;I also haven't really been that hungry for baked goods; I know, what the f/stop is up with that? It's been all about the ice cream lately. &amp;nbsp;Have you had Ben and Jerry's Oatmeal Cookie Chunk? It's like a chocolate chip oatmeal cookie but in ice cream! Yum! &amp;nbsp;I've been trading that off with my old standby, Haagen Daz Coffee. &amp;nbsp;Of course, I have to beat back the girls with my giant spoon or wait until they go to sleep in order to eat it. &amp;nbsp;I'm pretty sure if they woke up to coffee ice cream in their stocking on Christmas morning, I'd get no complaints.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mmmm. . .ice cream for breakfast. . . I'm going to have to find a recipe.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&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/6647037438141813038-3244213531409501573?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/3244213531409501573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=3244213531409501573&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3244213531409501573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3244213531409501573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/12/shutterbug.html' title='Shutterbug'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-8102960909262228823</id><published>2011-12-11T08:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-12T10:41:53.832-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advice'/><title type='text'>Monday's Message</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_luwjduHfrA1qczqexo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_luwjduHfrA1qczqexo1_500.jpg" width="249" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://facebookhiatus.tumblr.com/page/5" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Mondays get a bad wrap. &amp;nbsp;The fun of the past Friday, Saturday and Sunday is still a tasty morsel of good times in the front of your brain. The promise of next week-ends date nights, &amp;nbsp;quality family time and general do-nothingness is barely visible on the horizon. The promise of next week-end; it's like waiting for Santa, the Easter Bunny, and your favorite relative to all come visit at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday is a buzzkill. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to work/school/regualrly scheduled programming. &amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;SN: Now that DWTS is done, what's there to watch on Monday &amp;nbsp;night , anyway?&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;There are emails to send and voice mails to return. Trips to the post office. Trips to the dry cleaner. Stuff to return. Stuff to pick up. Things to do, do, do, whether you work from home, in an office, in school, or somewhere in between. &amp;nbsp;The bottom-line is there is work to be done. How can you not succumb to the grumbles and gripes of yet another Monday when the clock on the wall is dialing it in, &amp;nbsp;the coffee has about as much bite to it as a toothless doberman, and &lt;a href="http://www.apple.com/iphone/features/siri.html" target="_blank"&gt;Siri&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;is taking a personal day? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm making a choice, though. &amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;I'm&lt;/i&gt; going to have a &lt;b&gt;good day&lt;/b&gt;. . .a good Monday, even. &amp;nbsp;I had a great week-end. I am ready for what my week has in store. My to-do list is longer than a two-ply roll of toilet paper, but I'm about to get all Chuck Norris on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ltzpfxN1nt1qapadvo1_r1_500.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ltzpfxN1nt1qapadvo1_r1_500.png" width="248" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://facebookhiatus.tumblr.com/page/6" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;I'm ready for you, Monday. &amp;nbsp;Let's dance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-8102960909262228823?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/8102960909262228823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=8102960909262228823&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/8102960909262228823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/8102960909262228823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/12/mondays-message.html' title='Monday&apos;s Message'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-5088302945471981114</id><published>2011-12-09T11:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-09T20:22:17.859-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='winter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><title type='text'>Happy Week-End!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lvjk96iYO91r75bcoo1_400.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lvjk96iYO91r75bcoo1_400.png" width="227" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://casamiaa.tumblr.com/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;I've tried to stave it off for as long as I could, but it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Week-end to do list:&lt;br /&gt;* break out the 'nog&lt;br /&gt;* put on the Christmas carols&lt;br /&gt;* decorate the tree&lt;br /&gt;* break out some more 'nog&lt;br /&gt;* address Christmas cards&lt;br /&gt;* inventory gifts that have been hidden in the guest room closet&lt;br /&gt;* park children in front of TV in order to wrap said gifts uninterruptedly&lt;br /&gt;* break out the last of the 'nog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Week-end, y'all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/6647037438141813038-5088302945471981114?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/5088302945471981114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=5088302945471981114&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5088302945471981114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5088302945471981114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/12/happy-week-end.html' title='Happy Week-End!'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-1438190996854231191</id><published>2011-12-06T11:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-06T12:16:00.110-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><title type='text'>Write On</title><content type='html'>I love stationery. I love monogrammed flat notes. I love embossed folded notes. &amp;nbsp;I love personalized notes that come in lined envelopes. &amp;nbsp;I have several boxes of note cards that I keep in rotation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I need to send a thank you, I use these:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.graphiquedefrance.com/shop/store/20090310001/items/thumbnails/L810CB_T.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.graphiquedefrance.com/shop/store/20090310001/items/thumbnails/L810CB_T.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.graphiquedefrance.com/shop/c-3782.htm" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I want to let someone know I'm thinking of them, I use these:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dz_vS91KT64/Tt5KDV0cIqI/AAAAAAAAB4E/Ft--uXK5x9I/s1600/IMG_0302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dz_vS91KT64/Tt5KDV0cIqI/AAAAAAAAB4E/Ft--uXK5x9I/s320/IMG_0302.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love, love, love &lt;a href="http://www.designhergals.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Design-her Gal&lt;/a&gt;! &amp;nbsp;My first set of calling cards came from there and I couldn't give them away fast enough. &amp;nbsp;It's fun designing a mini avatar that looks just like me. I can change her clothes with the seasons, which is usually when I need more cards, and I can change her hair as often as I change my own. &amp;nbsp;That alone has made the purchase worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a period where I had these great Vera Wang notes that I had gotten from Tuesday Morning,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.writeonandmore.com/v/vspfiles/photos/WAVeraWangNotesTeal-2T.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.writeonandmore.com/v/vspfiles/photos/WAVeraWangNotesTeal-2T.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.writeonandmore.com/Vera_Wang_Fine_Stationery_p/waverawangnotesteal.htm" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;but somehow, I was writing more and more notes to people. I burned through them in a matter of weeks. &amp;nbsp;I found myself in a bind to get my hands on some stationery. &amp;nbsp;So, I improvised and turned the girls' art work into note cards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9f0h380nYKM/TRuXt22ZKyI/AAAAAAAABbI/QArY6x67A-E/s1600/DSC_0641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9f0h380nYKM/TRuXt22ZKyI/AAAAAAAABbI/QArY6x67A-E/s320/DSC_0641.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2010/12/feeling-crafty.html" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;For those you who received one of those, I hope you kept it. &amp;nbsp;It's going to be a collector's item one day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway,&amp;nbsp;I was out an about the other day, searching for a hostess gift when I saw these super cute sets of assorted note card from Rifle Paper Company. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://riflepaperco.com/item_images/gc_hello_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="https://riflepaperco.com/item_images/gc_hello_m.jpg" width="282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://riflepaperco.com/item/Assorted_Hello_Cards/164/c34" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://riflepaperco.com/item_images/gc_french_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="https://riflepaperco.com/item_images/gc_french_m.jpg" width="282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://riflepaperco.com/item/Assorted_French_Cards/243/c38" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't they just make you want to write someone a note? &amp;nbsp;I might have to tell Santa to stuff these in my stocking.&amp;nbsp;And speaking of the fat man and his busiest night of the year, &amp;nbsp;there are holiday cards, too. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://riflepaperco.com/item_images/hol_12_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="https://riflepaperco.com/item_images/hol_12_1.jpg" width="282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://riflepaperco.com/item/12_Days_of_Christmas_Card/125/c40"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://riflepaperco.com/item_images/gc_xmas_fave_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="https://riflepaperco.com/item_images/gc_xmas_fave_m.jpg" width="282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://riflepaperco.com/item/Favorite_Things_Card_/225/c5"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;So tell me, am I the last of a dying breed? Is the art of letter writing and note card sending dead? &amp;nbsp;Why don't you get yourself some new stationery to drop me a few lines and tell me what you think. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-1438190996854231191?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/1438190996854231191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=1438190996854231191&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/1438190996854231191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/1438190996854231191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/12/write-on.html' title='Write On'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dz_vS91KT64/Tt5KDV0cIqI/AAAAAAAAB4E/Ft--uXK5x9I/s72-c/IMG_0302.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-734794070578979366</id><published>2011-11-28T12:32:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T09:00:01.773-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='30 day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><title type='text'>Fun with Photography</title><content type='html'>So, it's that time of year when I need to take a picture of the girls for our annual Christmas card. Now that I've been accumulating all of this photography experience and knowledge, I really want to put it to good use. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years past, it used to be that I would battle the masses to the Picture People or Portrait Innovations to get a great shot. &amp;nbsp;That has proven, time and again, to be an exercise in insanity and aggravation. &amp;nbsp;There were two years that I can immediately recall where I just said, "Whatevs. . " and used some random shot from a good time we had at the playground. &amp;nbsp;Last year, when I was just getting comfortable with things like ISO and manual exposure, I did a pretty good job in getting the girls at their smiley best. &amp;nbsp;Remember these?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jxzkdTYp-_M/TtPGuR8cjMI/AAAAAAAAB10/fV7n_bHrlaE/s1600/DSC_0097.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jxzkdTYp-_M/TtPGuR8cjMI/AAAAAAAAB10/fV7n_bHrlaE/s320/DSC_0097.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PaAZA6eUYZs/TtPGvSCuzsI/AAAAAAAAB18/uthRZky7B8I/s1600/DSC_0138.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PaAZA6eUYZs/TtPGvSCuzsI/AAAAAAAAB18/uthRZky7B8I/s320/DSC_0138.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H1zdqQDTcpU/TtPGyVwWbtI/AAAAAAAAB2M/qOHHgl0pfuE/s1600/DSC_0153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H1zdqQDTcpU/TtPGyVwWbtI/AAAAAAAAB2M/qOHHgl0pfuE/s320/DSC_0153.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Pretty cute and I love the how the tree made a natural backdrop for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So fast forward to this year and I'm wondering how I'm going to improve upon last year's card. It's a personal challenge. I'm so weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was trolling around on Pinterest (what else is new), when I saw a few backdrop tutorials. There was one using some Christmas lights that gave off the effect a kind of snowy background. &amp;nbsp;Hmmm. . .I could do that. &amp;nbsp;So, I read up on the how-to's, got my supplies and decided to try it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I rigged up my backdrop support and crossbar. I hate how this thing just came in a bag with no instructions. I'm a college educated woman and yet, putting this thing together made me feel like I was blind in one eye and couldn't see out the other. &amp;nbsp;Still, I got it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CL0v4HiHZDU/TtPIrSmiYDI/AAAAAAAAB2s/SuQCnYBSnuk/s1600/rocking-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CL0v4HiHZDU/TtPIrSmiYDI/AAAAAAAAB2s/SuQCnYBSnuk/s320/rocking-5.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Then, I grabbed my Target queen sized white sheet (I spare no expense) and tacked that up on the bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HHy8Co4SeY0/TtPItv5yXbI/AAAAAAAAB20/bnCh77oxidY/s1600/rocking-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HHy8Co4SeY0/TtPItv5yXbI/AAAAAAAAB20/bnCh77oxidY/s320/rocking-6.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I used these nifty clamps, just like the pros use, to make sure there was no slippage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rAMYSsQ2Xng/TtPIvc4turI/AAAAAAAAB28/J5DgrMms9bk/s1600/rocking-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rAMYSsQ2Xng/TtPIvc4turI/AAAAAAAAB28/J5DgrMms9bk/s320/rocking-7.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;After that, I started threading my Dollar Tree twinkle lights across the bar and on the backdrop. &amp;nbsp;I had to fill in with the other twinkle lights that have been earmarked for our Christmas tree because, truth be told, the background was looking pretty thin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZP5nWgql624/TtPIzCa9WcI/AAAAAAAAB3M/i7kPuDDL4Y8/s1600/rocking-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZP5nWgql624/TtPIzCa9WcI/AAAAAAAAB3M/i7kPuDDL4Y8/s320/rocking-9.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tcmE-eDC15k/TtPI1YVYSGI/AAAAAAAAB3U/MIYY75mnMoQ/s1600/rocking-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tcmE-eDC15k/TtPI1YVYSGI/AAAAAAAAB3U/MIYY75mnMoQ/s320/rocking-10.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Mb0zw78JviE/TtPIwz5BSTI/AAAAAAAAB3E/Q6JD5bl_i5Y/s1600/rocking-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Mb0zw78JviE/TtPIwz5BSTI/AAAAAAAAB3E/Q6JD5bl_i5Y/s320/rocking-8.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let there be lights! It looks kind of sad, like Charlie Brown's Christmas tree, but I keep reminding myself that this is just a test. &amp;nbsp;Now that I look at it in the picture, I'm probably going to have to use the other sets of tree lights to really make this thing pop. &amp;nbsp;We usually get the lights strung on the green wire to blend into the tree, but now I'm seeing the utility of the white wire ones. Well, if the picture doesn't come out&amp;nbsp;way quite the I want it to, then, I'll upgrade to more fashionable lights. Besides, in my head, this is a tight, tight portrait shot, so really, whatever is on the sides doesn't matter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JgrFKyXqsO0/TtPI5mUJZCI/AAAAAAAAB3k/YyoyL-Aw-MM/s1600/rocking-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JgrFKyXqsO0/TtPI5mUJZCI/AAAAAAAAB3k/YyoyL-Aw-MM/s320/rocking-12.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. I got all my stuff in place and of course, I can't find my tripod. Still. &amp;nbsp;After that &lt;a href="http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/11/office-space-part-ii.html" target="_blank"&gt;big office clean-up&lt;/a&gt;, there are still some things that have yet to turn up. Maybe if I stop looking for it, that's when I'll find it. And maybe it really went out with the trash. &amp;nbsp;*le sigh*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the backdrop is set. The lights are up. The lights are on. Let's see if we can make this work. &amp;nbsp;My nikon is powered up with my nifty fifty lens in place. &amp;nbsp;I've got my ISO on 320, my shutter speed at 1/60 and my apeture at 1.8 for that nice, creamy bokeh. &amp;nbsp;Now, where's my model? &amp;nbsp;Oh, right. That would be me. And keep in mind, these are SOOC (straight out of the camera), so be kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8s1XP1tD1X8/TtPIl0XwfoI/AAAAAAAAB2U/O3Ry0TljH80/s1600/rocking-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8s1XP1tD1X8/TtPIl0XwfoI/AAAAAAAAB2U/O3Ry0TljH80/s320/rocking-2.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6xlQ0DTwN_o/TtPIoD-jnXI/AAAAAAAAB2c/RnAduwDWoh0/s1600/rocking-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6xlQ0DTwN_o/TtPIoD-jnXI/AAAAAAAAB2c/RnAduwDWoh0/s320/rocking-3.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Ooooh, not bad for a first try. &amp;nbsp;I think fiddled with some of my settings between the two shots, hence the blue tint on the first one. Plus it's a little dark. &amp;nbsp;And I've kind of got a people's eyebrow going on a bit in that one. &amp;nbsp;Anyway. . . I keep cutting off my head and my chin because my arms are only but so long. &amp;nbsp;Stupid tripod, where are you?! I can't work like this. &amp;nbsp;I need another model.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vfu7klfhm-4/TtPI7nm1lnI/AAAAAAAAB3s/zFnnetP1th0/s1600/rocking-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vfu7klfhm-4/TtPI7nm1lnI/AAAAAAAAB3s/zFnnetP1th0/s320/rocking-13.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z7Bo0kKmhPE/TtPI81c9zLI/AAAAAAAAB30/wz__cgEhUGU/s1600/rocking-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z7Bo0kKmhPE/TtPI81c9zLI/AAAAAAAAB30/wz__cgEhUGU/s320/rocking-14.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;What a diva, but she'll do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've still got some tweaking to do (I really want to blur out the strands and just see the bulbs). &amp;nbsp;Sure, it's a very amateur, very MacGyver type situation I've got going on, but I'm going to make it work for the Dixon Christmas Card 2011. Overall,&amp;nbsp;I'm going to say, mission accomplished here. &amp;nbsp;Now, to get the girls geared up in their holiday finery (read: clean shirt and combed hair) for the real deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you, dear reader? &amp;nbsp;Go wait by your &amp;nbsp;mailbox!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&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/6647037438141813038-734794070578979366?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/734794070578979366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=734794070578979366&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/734794070578979366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/734794070578979366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/11/fun-with-photography.html' title='Fun with Photography'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jxzkdTYp-_M/TtPGuR8cjMI/AAAAAAAAB10/fV7n_bHrlaE/s72-c/DSC_0097.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-5163218665503265405</id><published>2011-11-28T10:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T10:37:54.280-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><title type='text'>Dive Right In</title><content type='html'>One of the&amp;nbsp;neighbors&amp;nbsp;on our street is having a pool installed in their backyard!!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The weather hasn't yet turned frightfully frosty yet, and summer isn't that too distant of a memory, but now I've got warm weather, vacation and pools on the brain. &amp;nbsp;I'm thinking I might have to have those contractors measure out a nice in-ground set-up for us. . .after I trot over to the neighbors house with a nice beer bread or banana nut loaf, of course. &amp;nbsp;Gotta get in good now and make sure my seat under the cabana is reserved.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Don't these pools make you want to take a dip?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_8h9on69SXA/TtOpXy8-xQI/AAAAAAAAB1k/3TlofaUZlpI/s1600/430082574.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_8h9on69SXA/TtOpXy8-xQI/AAAAAAAAB1k/3TlofaUZlpI/s1600/430082574.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://jacquelynnicole.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ww0Ltss65eE/TtOpYBeKvxI/AAAAAAAAB1s/8YIwKjb3btg/s1600/561032194.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ww0Ltss65eE/TtOpYBeKvxI/AAAAAAAAB1s/8YIwKjb3btg/s1600/561032194.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://casamiaa.tumblr.com/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ei2u3i-BVzA/TtOmC_470QI/AAAAAAAAB1E/ZT2es2_Wu_w/s1600/263571044.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ei2u3i-BVzA/TtOmC_470QI/AAAAAAAAB1E/ZT2es2_Wu_w/s1600/263571044.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.piccsy.com/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fLzMt-OoyVU/TtOmDTcvcMI/AAAAAAAAB1M/Mhe6HaVzFF8/s1600/267014003.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fLzMt-OoyVU/TtOmDTcvcMI/AAAAAAAAB1M/Mhe6HaVzFF8/s1600/267014003.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://myfuturehome.tumblr.com/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fiQegSF2RYE/TtOnSMcThhI/AAAAAAAAB1U/KJumsEdCVio/s1600/429231387.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fiQegSF2RYE/TtOnSMcThhI/AAAAAAAAB1U/KJumsEdCVio/s1600/429231387.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.houzz.com/" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i-cdn.apartmenttherapy.com/uimages/ny/sirincepoolursula.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://i-cdn.apartmenttherapy.com/uimages/ny/sirincepoolursula.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i-cdn.apartmenttherapy.com/uimages/ny/sirincepoolursula.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/6647037438141813038-5163218665503265405?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/5163218665503265405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=5163218665503265405&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5163218665503265405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5163218665503265405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/11/dive-right-in.html' title='Dive Right In'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_8h9on69SXA/TtOpXy8-xQI/AAAAAAAAB1k/3TlofaUZlpI/s72-c/430082574.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-2277681289984451701</id><published>2011-11-23T10:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-24T07:18:12.599-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reminiscing'/><title type='text'>Giving Thanks</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.smallbitesonline.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2008/11/rockwell-thanksgiving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.smallbitesonline.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2008/11/rockwell-thanksgiving.jpg" width="249" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.smallbitesonline.com/?cat=13&amp;amp;paged=2" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Last year, just as in years' past, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade was on television while the family was in the kitchen prepping for the main event. &amp;nbsp;The girls would float in and out of the family room, pausing in front of the screen to take in the sight of marching bands, super sized floats, and the scores of cartoon characters inflated high in the sky over the crowds. &amp;nbsp;I, too, would check some things out when I heard the broadcasters mentioned a name or group that I was particularly interested in seeing.  &amp;nbsp;Somehow, between setting the table, shuffling pots and pans, and trying to sneak off with a book for a hot minute, I happened to catch the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Rockettes" target="_blank"&gt;Rockettes&lt;/a&gt; the same time that Morgan and Coever did their pass by the TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up, my grandmother used to tell me that she was the first Black Rockette way back in the day. &amp;nbsp;There wasn't any evidence to back up her claim. &amp;nbsp;There weren't any flyers, there weren't any photographs tucked into a worn photo album. &amp;nbsp;There wasn't anyone who could corroborate her story. &amp;nbsp;She just repeated it every year, especially around the holidays when the Rockettes were more visible during the parade and their holiday extravaganza at Radio City. &amp;nbsp;She was almost Pavlovian in her reaction. &amp;nbsp;Rockette's on TV? Here comes Gram, "I remember when I was Rockette, doing all those high kicks. " &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For years, I believed her. &amp;nbsp;Then with the cynicism that comes with early adulthood, I jumped onto Google one year to find out who indeed the first Black Rockette truly was. &amp;nbsp;Her name is Jennifer Jones and she made her debut in 1988. &amp;nbsp;Was I depressed at learning the truth? No, I was kind of proud. Gram had been consistently bestowing a gift on me year after year. &amp;nbsp;Sure, she wasn't the first, but that didn't mean that&lt;i&gt; I &lt;/i&gt;couldn't be if I wanted to. &amp;nbsp;Whatever I wanted to be, I could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year, when the girls and I caught the Rockette's doing their performance, I thought about Gram. I thought about her maintaining her status as "the first Black Rockette". &amp;nbsp;When those ladies lined up to do their iconic line kick, I found myself tearing up. &amp;nbsp; My throat grew thick with missing my gram, and the temptation to just whisper to the girls, "You know, your Great-Gram was a Rockette."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.baystatebanner.com/files/arts42-2010-12-16/arts42a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="189" src="http://www.baystatebanner.com/files/arts42-2010-12-16/arts42a.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.baystatebanner.com/arts42-2010-12-16" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I didn't tell them, of course. What with their access to Google and all things digital, they'd quickly figure things out. &amp;nbsp;I did tell them the story of how their Great-Gram Eleanor told me she had been a Rockette. &amp;nbsp;I tell them of&amp;nbsp;how she had a department store's worth of perfumes on her dresser, how she always said, "Hey, doll!" when she answered the phone. &amp;nbsp;I tell them that even though she passed away when Morgan was just a baby and that Coever never met her, she loves, loves, loves them dearly, and always will. I tell them how lucky I am to have had an adult relationship with my grandparents and how lucky they are, too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;This day, and always, I'm thankful for my family and my friends. I am thankful for the roof over my head, the clothes on my back, and the food in my belly. I am thankful for opening my eyes every morning, for walking on my own two feet. &amp;nbsp;I'm thankful for the people whose lives I've touched and whose lives have touched mine. I am thankful for the people whom I have never met, but work to ensure my safety and the safety of my family, friends and neighbors. &amp;nbsp;I'm thankful for all the things that I take for granted the other 364 days of the year and I'm thankful for all of the things that I often complain about as well. &amp;nbsp;Sometimes, I need a national holiday to remind me. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Or a Rockette's high kick in the pants.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-2277681289984451701?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/2277681289984451701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=2277681289984451701&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/2277681289984451701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/2277681289984451701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/11/giving-thanks.html' title='Giving Thanks'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-4182115313668199102</id><published>2011-11-20T15:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T11:45:30.925-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advice'/><title type='text'>Monday's Message</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c85MLCp16qA/TslgmelRh5I/AAAAAAAAB08/_AXH-6gGJr0/s1600/292724054_tGvl89lT_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c85MLCp16qA/TslgmelRh5I/AAAAAAAAB08/_AXH-6gGJr0/s1600/292724054_tGvl89lT_b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?q=subway+art&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;biw=1267&amp;amp;bih=539&amp;amp;tbm=isch&amp;amp;tbnid=nTa9yRUMr5abZM:&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://freshlymintedlibrarian.wordpress.com/2011/06/06/library-subway-art/&amp;amp;docid=GlZ0RL07eAKqKM&amp;amp;w=487&amp;amp;h=640&amp;amp;ei=dNCPTreBGKiFsgLRwOWqAQ&amp;amp;zoom=1&amp;amp;iact=hc&amp;amp;vpx=893&amp;amp;vpy=129&amp;amp;dur=38&amp;amp;hovh=257&amp;amp;hovw=196&amp;amp;tx=95&amp;amp;ty=132&amp;amp;page=6&amp;amp;tbnh=149&amp;amp;tbnw=129&amp;amp;start=62&amp;amp;ndsp=12&amp;amp;ved=1t:429,r:10,s:62"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;I have a stack of magazines that I have been toting from my nightstand to the car and back to my nightstand with an alarming regularity. Oprah, Parents, Parenting, Glamour, Real Simple, the J.Crew Holiday Catalog: they're all stuffed into a Whole Foods Tote bag that goes down the stairs, out the door, into the car in the morning. &amp;nbsp;Then, at the end of the day, out of the car, in the door and up the stairs. &amp;nbsp;I've got 30 minutes while the girls are in swimming lessons. I've got 45 minutes while the girls are at tutoring. I've got a handful of minutes in various carpool lines. &amp;nbsp;Have a I cracked a spine on any of the mags? Nope. &amp;nbsp;I keep thinking that in the midst of all of the to-ing and fro-ing that goes on, I'll have some time to leaf through the glossy pages and create inane wish-lists of celebrity endorsed product. &amp;nbsp;It hasn't happened.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;The public library has been blowing up my phone lately because several books that I on on hold are now available. &amp;nbsp;The messages come in from some unknown number and the urgency in the robotic voice makes me feel like I have to drop everything to book it over to the library so that my item doesn't evaporate back into the stacks. &amp;nbsp;"We will hold your item for three business days," the robotic librarian tells me. &amp;nbsp;What I hear, however, sounds like this, "&lt;i&gt;Three days, sucka! We ain't playin', so carry your a-double on over here before I like to give this book to someone else! &amp;nbsp;I ain't gonna call you again! *click*. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;I've already waited several weeks for the book; I really don't want to miss this window of availability and then end up at the end of the line again. &amp;nbsp;And wouldn't you know, all of my&amp;nbsp;books came in at once. &amp;nbsp;I sped on over to the library, tossing an armful of the girls' books into the maw of the book return, like an offering to an obscure literary pagan god. &amp;nbsp;Of the titles I picked up, I've burned through about three in ten days.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;During my weekly sojourn to Target, I picked up another book that I've been waiting to read. &amp;nbsp;I just couldn't outlast my position in the queue for "&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Recipe-Club-Tale-Food-Friendship/dp/B0057D9MFE/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&amp;amp;ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1321819651&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;The Hunger Game&lt;/a&gt;s". &amp;nbsp;Everything else that I've been reading, "&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Miss-Peregrines-Home-Peculiar-Children/dp/1594744769"&gt;Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children&lt;/a&gt;", "&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Uncoupling-Meg-Wolitzer/dp/B005K5DVO2/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&amp;amp;ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1321819628&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;The Uncoupling&lt;/a&gt;", "&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Recipe-Club-Tale-Food-Friendship/dp/B0057D9MFE/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&amp;amp;ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1321819651&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;The Recipe Club&lt;/a&gt;," &amp;nbsp;all of these titles were just place holders for this book that I have heard so much about. &amp;nbsp;Like Harry Potter and the Twilight series before it, I had heard chapter and verse (no pun intended) about how great this story is and how I just had to get my hands on a copy, immediately. &amp;nbsp;My no commitment book club read it, but the library copy I reserved never materialized in time. &amp;nbsp;If you've read it, please let me know. &amp;nbsp;And yes, I know there's a movie adaptation coming out soon with Lenny Kravitz (*swoon*) in one of the roles. &amp;nbsp;SN: for that alone, this book deserves a read.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Ideally, I'd be having a lie in with my book today, but responsibilities call. &amp;nbsp;I will, however, be swapping the tote of magazines for the comparatively compact novel. &amp;nbsp;Let the games begin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/1d/50/girl,reading,book,bed,colour,light-1d503d863f2bddeb6968eec12151c84c_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="273" src="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/1d/50/girl,reading,book,bed,colour,light-1d503d863f2bddeb6968eec12151c84c_h.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://vi.sualize.us/view/1d503d863f2bddeb6968eec12151c84c/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&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/6647037438141813038-4182115313668199102?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/4182115313668199102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=4182115313668199102&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/4182115313668199102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/4182115313668199102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/11/mondays-message_20.html' title='Monday&apos;s Message'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c85MLCp16qA/TslgmelRh5I/AAAAAAAAB08/_AXH-6gGJr0/s72-c/292724054_tGvl89lT_b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-9221382162937001899</id><published>2011-11-17T12:44:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-17T13:16:22.813-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'>Office Space, Part II</title><content type='html'>Per all of the requests, here are some photos of the &lt;a href="http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/11/office-space.html"&gt;office&lt;/a&gt;. &amp;nbsp;And SN: Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who reads this blog and to everyone who leaves great comments and feedback. I really appreciate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3v46r7c7W0M/TsVIIcU8N2I/AAAAAAAAB0E/dh9v7E3ZrKU/s1600/_DSC0324.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3v46r7c7W0M/TsVIIcU8N2I/AAAAAAAAB0E/dh9v7E3ZrKU/s320/_DSC0324.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LUgpD2_6LdU/TsVOAIH9umI/AAAAAAAAB00/kABroAFKCx4/s1600/_DSC0334.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LUgpD2_6LdU/TsVOAIH9umI/AAAAAAAAB00/kABroAFKCx4/s320/_DSC0334.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, so this is the right side of the office. &amp;nbsp;We've got the green accents in full effect with a wire mesh trash can that I scored from BB &amp;amp;B for $1.99. There's the paper shredder and the desk with all of my papers, pencils, and what not. &amp;nbsp;The desk is in the open position, but I can slide it shut so that it looks like a dresser. &amp;nbsp;It's pretty neat and a definite space saver. So the color palette up here is primarily white and green. &amp;nbsp;I started with my diploma (Tribe Pride!) and to complement the cherry on that frame, there are two pictures of Craig and myself from our trip to Spain a billion years ago. &amp;nbsp;Behind the chair is the first of many bookcases and to the right of that is one of the two wall cut-outs that is full to the brim with the stuff I didn't know where else to put. Over the first cut-out is Craig's fraternity certificate. Over the second cut-out (not pictured but just a full of stuff), is my sorority certificate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Here's a shot of my desk. &amp;nbsp;Trying to find some desk accessories has been a real hassle. At first, I went with some green ones from Target, but 1) they looked like someone had been chewing on them, 2) it was way too much green with the lamp right there and 3) it wasn't really what I wanted. &amp;nbsp;I saw this desk caddy at Pottery Barn, but once I got it home, it became clear that it was more of a French Vanilla than a white. &amp;nbsp;I go back and forth about that. I mean, everything doesn't have to matchy-match, but at the same time, I'm just not sure I like it. &amp;nbsp;I think I need to get some craft paint in the right shade of green and just sponge the desk caddy to give it some texture. &amp;nbsp;Hmmm. . .that's not a bad idea, actually.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Here's a better view of the bookshelf.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pcK2uImc7zY/TsVIPihmY6I/AAAAAAAAB0s/ED0DFb5SRhA/s1600/_DSC0339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pcK2uImc7zY/TsVIPihmY6I/AAAAAAAAB0s/ED0DFb5SRhA/s320/_DSC0339.JPG" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;We are some pretty avid readers. &amp;nbsp;After I had put this shelf unit together, I realized we were definitely going to need more. &amp;nbsp;Those shelves are tight, tight, tight. &amp;nbsp;To pull one book out, you've got to brace the rest of the unit and then do this wiggle-waggle-shimmy with the selected book so that the whole shelf doesn't blow up in your face once some space is made. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look at the shelf, I think of that Jerry Seinfeld bit where he's saying that people keep books like trophies to prove that they can read. &amp;nbsp;Why, yes, I can. And I read quite a bit. &amp;nbsp; Oooh, the lamp. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I found a pair of them on clearance at Target (love Tar-Jay). &amp;nbsp;I think I paid more for the lightbulbs than the lamps themselves. &amp;nbsp;And yes, that's a picture of my lovely pledge class to the left and my Centennial AKA Barbie to the right. I have to hide her up here because the girls are frothing at the mouth to take her out of the box and brush her hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UsjOSCvz3gQ/TsVIJhnJaNI/AAAAAAAAB0M/GXnbe3FreEc/s1600/_DSC0326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UsjOSCvz3gQ/TsVIJhnJaNI/AAAAAAAAB0M/GXnbe3FreEc/s320/_DSC0326.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;This is the left side of the office. &amp;nbsp;I really love the green photo boxes, not only because green is my favorite color, but because I feel SO organized when I look at them. &amp;nbsp;If I need a picture of one of the girls for a class project, I know exactly where to go. &amp;nbsp;I'm tempted to replace those books and candles on the left side with the myriad of photo albums that I have. &amp;nbsp;Still, the clean, streamlined look of just the white and green is really appealing. I also found that floor lamp at Target, which is the same color green as the other lamps. &amp;nbsp;I have yet to sneak up here with a cup of coffee and just rock it out in the glider with a good book, but that is definitely on my to-do list. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s1-Lk--DUug/TsVIN3S5eKI/AAAAAAAAB0k/MwKBigIUaoA/s1600/_DSC0333.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s1-Lk--DUug/TsVIN3S5eKI/AAAAAAAAB0k/MwKBigIUaoA/s320/_DSC0333.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Oh, Craig's Porsche collection! We're going to get you one that for the driveway, Craig, I promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;So, that's a mini tour of my&amp;nbsp;office. &amp;nbsp;Thanks for stopping by. &amp;nbsp;Oh! And if you have any suggestions for office decor, must-have desk-top accessories, or what have you, definitely let me know. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-9221382162937001899?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/9221382162937001899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=9221382162937001899&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/9221382162937001899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/9221382162937001899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/11/office-space-part-ii.html' title='Office Space, Part II'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3v46r7c7W0M/TsVIIcU8N2I/AAAAAAAAB0E/dh9v7E3ZrKU/s72-c/_DSC0324.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-2502646928411350350</id><published>2011-11-15T11:24:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T11:49:51.945-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='activities'/><title type='text'>Office Space</title><content type='html'>One of the things I like about our new house is that there is a room on the third floor that I have claimed as my own. I have an office! With a door that closes! &amp;nbsp;Woo-woo! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we moved, this coveted space became a wasteland for all of the post-move detritus. &amp;nbsp;Boxes of books, holiday decor, old children's clothes, my Stampin' Up! stuff, and more boxes of books. &amp;nbsp;There were piles of random electrical cords, computer attachments, and instruction manuals. &amp;nbsp;A VCR/DVD combo unit took up residence alongside a bag full of totebags. &amp;nbsp;Seriously, there was a big Nike gym bag full of assorted soft bags. &amp;nbsp;In the middle of this melee was our "computer desk" and chair. &amp;nbsp;I use the words computer desk lightly because in truth, it was just a table we scored at an office firesale many, many years ago. &amp;nbsp;I mean, give me a board and two saw horses and I could fashion a better desk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My goal has been to de-junk the office, get some real office furniture and truly make this place my own. &amp;nbsp;It's been a process, but I'm nearing the home stretch. I've gotten most, if not all of the boxes unpacked. Those that aren't or can't be until we can conjure up some more space in the attic have been artfully tucked into these little wall cut-outs in the room. &amp;nbsp;When it came time to get those things off of the floor and out of sight, I was stacking boxes like I was playing Tetris. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got a for real desk that I put together myself:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.homedecorators.com/images/items/medium/04445410.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="270" src="http://www.homedecorators.com/images/items/medium/04445410.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.homedecorators.com/P/Oxford_Hidden_Desk/410/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and I got a coordinating chair, that yes, I put together myself!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.homedecorators.com/images/items/large/l04249410.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.homedecorators.com/images/items/large/l04249410.jpg" width="228" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.homedecorators.com/P/Oxford_Adjustable-Height_Desk_Chair/210/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Talk about a labor of love. You know that construction is going to be time consuming when you make a mental note that there are more pouches of screws than letters in the alphabet (anyone see packet PP?). And there was in fact a piece missing from the box that the chair was delivered in, but I haven't fall out of it and it hasn't fallen to pieces, so I'm calling this a win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I scored some green accent lamps at Target, along with one of those 9-cube bookcases to house as many books as I can squeeze in there. &amp;nbsp;There's been some overflow, but for now, most are displayed and I can put my hands on what I'm looking for when I want to. &amp;nbsp;Plus, the top of the bookcase makes for a great display shelf of some of my sorority paraphernalia. &amp;nbsp;I think the last time it was displayed was probably when I crossed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also scoured through all kinds of Container Store and Hold Everything type of places until I found the right shade of green photo archival boxes. &amp;nbsp;Once and for all, I went through all of my loose photos, even the ones dating back past high school, and categorized them. &amp;nbsp;Opposite the wall-cut outs, there are some built in shelves. &amp;nbsp;In went the photo storage boxes (strategically placed) amongst some camera equipment, some books, and Craig's mini collection of die cast Porche 911's. &amp;nbsp;In my head, this is my office, but I deigned to give him a shelf so he feels included.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all the DIY of the chair and the desk, the unpacking of books, the place was looking kind of crusty and dusty. &amp;nbsp;So, I hauled the vacuum cleaner up the stairs and actually vacuumed. &amp;nbsp;You know, the vac and I have an on again, off again relationship, so this is a big deal. &amp;nbsp;Nothing beats seeing fresh vacuum tracks in the carpet, though, right? &amp;nbsp;Ahhhh. . . &amp;nbsp;the place is clean, airy, and ready for work. &amp;nbsp;And I really enjoy coming up here and putting in some work, be it to edit some photos, work on a blog post, hide from the children. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so nice and organized in here. &amp;nbsp;It's great, but I think I cleaned up &lt;i&gt;too &lt;/i&gt;well. &amp;nbsp;There are about half a dozen things I can't find: my tripod, my extra camera bag, my box of poetry books (because sometimes I really want to read some Langston Hughes), my Modelogic portfolio. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I have a sinking feeling that they're tucked in some kind of suspended animation in one of those wall cut outs, way behind the remaining boxes of stuff. &amp;nbsp;It's going to take a stick of dynamite to move that stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I don't need those things right now, afterall. . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-2502646928411350350?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/2502646928411350350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=2502646928411350350&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/2502646928411350350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/2502646928411350350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/11/office-space.html' title='Office Space'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-9211374791582521765</id><published>2011-11-11T08:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-11T09:03:41.445-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Recipe Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.gimmesomeoven.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/honey-beer-bread31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://www.gimmesomeoven.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/honey-beer-bread31.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://gimmesomeoven.com/honey-beer-bread/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Mmmm, warm bread. &amp;nbsp;Mmmm, warm beer bread. Even better, right? &amp;nbsp;I used to be addicted to the &lt;a href="http://www.tastefullysimple.com/"&gt;Tastefully Simple&lt;/a&gt; beer bread (best served cubed for dipping into Tastefully Simple dill dip), but after a while, I hated having to cough up enough interest in their other &amp;nbsp;items to make my order of beer bread a worthwhile purchase. &amp;nbsp;So, I took to Google and figured out how to make it myself. &amp;nbsp;Love that Google.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The recipe is really easy; the ingredients are things that you already have on hand:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;flour&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;sugar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;salt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;baking powder&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;beer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;butter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The one thing I had to invest in was a sifter, but you can score one of those at the Dollar Tree for -- you guessed it -- a dollar! And as it turns out, I used the sifter way more than I anticipated, so much so, I upgraded to a Bed, Bath, and Beyond one. &amp;nbsp;I know, big spender.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Anyway, since the weather has turned colder, I've been making more hearty fare for the family. &amp;nbsp;There's been chili, there's been sausage rotini bakes, and&lt;a href="http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/10/recipe-friday_28.html"&gt; ham and white bean stew&lt;/a&gt;. &amp;nbsp;The perfect accompaniment to all of these? Beer bread! &amp;nbsp;In part, the preponderance of beer bread also stems from the undrinkable 12 pack of Blue Moon Pumpkin Ale that I bought in September. &amp;nbsp;I mean, after that initial bottle, I was pretty much over it. &amp;nbsp;Craig doesn't really drink beer and if he does, he's going straight for the Red Stripe. My father and my father--in-law will crack open a Sam Adams, only if there's no Red Stripe to be found. &amp;nbsp;So, the Pumpkin Ale has been sitting, taking up valuable refrigerator real estate, until I started baking bread. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'm down to my last three bottles, trying to figure out if I can modify the Beer Can Chicken recipe to accommodate a bottle, when a note comes home from Coever's school. &amp;nbsp;Her class is celebrating Thanksgiving with a little party and wouldn't I want to sign up to bring in something tasty. &amp;nbsp;Among the options from which to choose -- bread! &amp;nbsp;Ding! Ding! Ding! So, I got rid of the last of that Pumpkin Ale and got my shine on for delivering some homemade baked goods. &amp;nbsp;Coever's class got two homemade loaves of buttery beer bread made with gluten free flour and no nuts (take that allergens). &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This week has been kind of crazy, so I wasn't able to get my Martha Stewart on and wrap the bread in hand made, filigree decorated paper, tied with raffia that I dried in the eaves of my attic and festooned with monogrammed gold painted cranberry clusters. &amp;nbsp;I'll save that for the Christmas holiday party.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Happy Friday, ya'll!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-9211374791582521765?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/9211374791582521765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=9211374791582521765&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/9211374791582521765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/9211374791582521765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/11/recipe-friday.html' title='Recipe Friday'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-3780707989353013281</id><published>2011-11-08T10:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T10:40:19.927-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my girls'/><title type='text'>Keep, Toss, Donate</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://blogonlinebiz.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/donations.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://blogonlinebiz.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/donations.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://blogonlinebiz.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/donations.png"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, we spent a good chunk of the day with Morgan and Coever, cleaning out their room and their playroom. &amp;nbsp;Both rooms were overrun with stuffed animals, half dressed Barbies and scores of scrap paper from arts and crafts projects in various stages of completion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we are coming up on the holiday season, Craig and I decided that before bringing in new toys, the girls should donate the toys that haven't been loved on in a while. &amp;nbsp;Believe me, there were many of those. &amp;nbsp;You know you've got a lot of stuff when the whole clean up process is peppered with , "Oh yeah, I remember that!" and "Oh, man! I forgot I had that!" Goodwill is going to receive several hefty bags of plushies in need of good homes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprisingly, Coever was the one who was tossing stuff into trash bags with reckless abandon. "Just get rid of it," she kept saying as she scooped up Barbie hairbrushes, stray Legos and un-matched dress up accessories. &amp;nbsp;I held up a mini Kai Lan toy that Coever had begged, begged, begged for. &amp;nbsp;"Toss it!" she sang, as the trash bag got fuller. &amp;nbsp;Morgan, however, was tearing up as she bade good-bye to every leftover goody-bag doo-dad&amp;nbsp;and toothless hair comb. &amp;nbsp;"But I -- I need this!" she'd exclaim as she caught Craig tossing a cracked magic wand into the trash. &amp;nbsp;"Oh! Oh! This is my favorite thing ever!"she cried. I held up a naked, headless Polly Pocket. &amp;nbsp;"Really?" I said, "Then where's her head?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crickets and tumbleweeds. &amp;nbsp;Into the trash with Polly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime later, we were upstairs in the playroom separating items into keep, donate, and toss piles. &amp;nbsp;The girls were sorting through a mound of stuffed toys. Each animal or dolly was thoughtfully examined, given a few squeezes and sometimes a kind word. &amp;nbsp;The girls danced them around on the floor or on one another's heads before relegating them to a pile. &amp;nbsp;As they got to the end, Morgan unearthed another one of Coever's highly desired Kai-Lan dolls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, Kai-Lan," Morgan intoned to the doll, stroking it sweetly on the head, &amp;nbsp;"We have some terrible news. &amp;nbsp;Your sister. . .she's been. . .donated."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-3780707989353013281?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/3780707989353013281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=3780707989353013281&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3780707989353013281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3780707989353013281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/11/keep-toss-donate.html' title='Keep, Toss, Donate'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-5029818392097181860</id><published>2011-11-07T07:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T07:33:47.845-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advice'/><title type='text'>Mondays Message</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--coxUY7C0f0/TrWQWAuPQ3I/AAAAAAAABzU/24v6ZDdqtTk/s1600/dashboard.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--coxUY7C0f0/TrWQWAuPQ3I/AAAAAAAABzU/24v6ZDdqtTk/s320/dashboard.jpeg" width="224" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.tumblr.com/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several months ago, my friend &lt;a href="http://www.denaliston.wordpress.com/"&gt;Dena&lt;/a&gt; posted the following message as her status update:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;A stranger stands next to me reading a letter. Turns to me and says, "I have to tell someone right away. &amp;nbsp;It's benign."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got chills when I read that; I get chills now. &amp;nbsp;I know I can through a whole day with blinders on to only what is most important to me. &amp;nbsp;I haven't held open the door for the person coming in a building behind me. I haven't returned the "Hi, how are you today?" when all I want to do is exchange/return/purchase my item and get on with my day. &amp;nbsp;I've wondered "What the hell is she looking at?" when some random chick at the Y catches my line of sight. &amp;nbsp;I put my focus on myself at the expense of kindness towards others. And I know better than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I catch myself being less than kind, &amp;nbsp;I think about what Dena experienced. I think about the above quote. &amp;nbsp;Try to be kind to at least one person you encounter today, because truly,&amp;nbsp;you have no idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6647037438141813038-5029818392097181860?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/5029818392097181860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=5029818392097181860&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5029818392097181860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5029818392097181860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/11/mondays-message.html' title='Mondays Message'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--coxUY7C0f0/TrWQWAuPQ3I/AAAAAAAABzU/24v6ZDdqtTk/s72-c/dashboard.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-8518100603754726123</id><published>2011-11-05T16:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-12-02T09:36:58.022-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='honesty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Spare a Dime</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/fe/1e/smile,attitude,life,inspiration,fun,no,comment-fe1e4326f57b8a74e2ad3d9576ed85bd_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/fe/1e/smile,attitude,life,inspiration,fun,no,comment-fe1e4326f57b8a74e2ad3d9576ed85bd_h.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://vi.sualize.us/view/fe1e4326f57b8a74e2ad3d9576ed85bd/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Anita, over at &lt;a href="http://www.btdas.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Beyond the Diapers and Spills&lt;/a&gt;, wrote a really thought provoking post about panhandlers and whether to give or not to give. &amp;nbsp;I struggle with this one, believe me. &amp;nbsp;I've been always been taught to think of my fellow man, to help those less fortunate, to give back to community. &amp;nbsp;For the most part, however, all of that giving has been on a much larger, anonymous scale. &amp;nbsp;As a Girl Scout, I we had coat drives, and we participated in the Angel Tree project. &amp;nbsp; I've done community service projects through my sorority like giving to the Foodbanks and&amp;nbsp;donating toiletries to the homeless. &amp;nbsp; Those are situations where there really isn't a person, a face, an outstretched hand imploring for help. &amp;nbsp;You're serving an idea, a cause and you feel good about having given your time and energy to that end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my daily route to pick Morgan up from school, I've noticed a guy holding a "Homeless Veteran" sign at the exit ramp off of the highway. &amp;nbsp;If it weren't for the camouflage rain parka and his low-riding, dirt smeared baseball cap, you might think it was a very lean, out of work Santa Claus. &amp;nbsp;He sits on this bucket day after day, holding his sign and waiting. &amp;nbsp;His position is at the foot of a traffic light, so when the light is red, cars have no choice but to idle right next to him. He sits on his bucket unless something is proffered. &amp;nbsp;While I wouldn't lean out of the car and hand him some money, I have been tempted to give him some of the snacks I usually have on hand. Considering I leave the house like Matthew Henson going on an expedition, there's always a snack in the car. I just haven't gotten up the guts to roll down the window and give it away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth be told, I'm scared.&amp;nbsp;I'm a suburbanite through and through. &amp;nbsp;I will cross the street, clutching my purse if I even think the Cub Scout coming towards me has a five o'clock shadow. &amp;nbsp;I don't think my fears are unfounded. This person may have a desperation that exceeds rational thought. &amp;nbsp; I mean, what if I roll down the window and he makes a grab for my purse? For me? What if he tries to get in the car? &amp;nbsp;Whipping a can of soda and a brown bag lunch at his head while I burn through the light probably undermines the whole charitable giving idea, you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I do ever muster up the guts to give something, I feel better about getting food than money because who knows what the money is going for. I'll admit it, I can be a Scrooge when it comes to parting with my dollars. I think everything should cost $20 or less and am always stung when it rings up otherwise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, I dropped the girls off at swimming lessons and carried myself over to the Starbucks drive-through for a late afternoon caffeine fix. &amp;nbsp;I pulled into the parking lot when this&amp;nbsp;well dressed guy in a Toyota or some such flags me down. &amp;nbsp;He angles his car such that I can't pull forward and then he rolls down his window, indicating for me to do the same. I pinch it down just low enough to stick out my nose and he lays on me this story: &amp;nbsp;He was from Farmville, lost on his way from a job interview, had no money for gas, had been to the gas station next to the S-bucks and they couldn't help him and blah, blah, blah. &amp;nbsp;I was about to say "Sorry, can't help you, " or &amp;nbsp;my standard, "I don't carry cash," which is often true, &amp;nbsp;but then, I saw there was a baby seat in back of his car. &amp;nbsp;No baby in it, just the car seat. &amp;nbsp;Call it maternal instinct, call it stupidity, &amp;nbsp;I forked over $5 and said, "Get home safely". &amp;nbsp;Then I wheeled into the drive through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was far from the stereotypical panhandler; he was well dressed, he was pleading his case using SAT words and his voice was breaking in desperation. &amp;nbsp;Or he was just a excellent actor. &amp;nbsp;Was getting up of of a Lincoln the worst part of my day? No. Didn't I still get my coffee? Yes. But I felt more like I'd lost $5 then having helped someone in need.&amp;nbsp; I think I just gave him the money so that I could get him out of my way and I could get my coffee. I didn't feel overwhelming good about myself for helping this stranger.&amp;nbsp;Part of me expected him to be in the &amp;nbsp;Starbucks ordering a Venti, sugar-free, non-fat, vanilla, soy, double shot, decaf, no foam, extra hot, Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha with light whip and extra syrup so that I could just say, "AHA! I knew!" Part of me was super relieved that he wasn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 13px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;I wasn't looking for thanks (he did give me several "God bless you's", though). &amp;nbsp;I wasn't looking for soul shining redemption for my myriad of foibles. &amp;nbsp;As I think about it, maybe the point of helping those less fortunate, of seeing them live and up close in dire straits is being - moved to act. The discomfort you feel spurs you into action. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But shouldn't doing a good deed make you feel. . . well, good? I'm sure there will be other opportunities for me to be a good Samaritan. I hope my conviction is restored when that time comes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-8518100603754726123?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/8518100603754726123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=8518100603754726123&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/8518100603754726123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/8518100603754726123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/11/spare-dime.html' title='Spare a Dime'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-8650279327827774517</id><published>2011-11-03T12:07:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-25T12:35:02.800-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Recipe Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6211/6351758635_692d5e243f_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6211/6351758635_692d5e243f_z.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.completelydelicious.com/2011/11/bacon-chocolate-scones.html" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Three words for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bacon.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chocolate.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Scones.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I die! &amp;nbsp;Gah! &amp;nbsp;How lucky am I that one of my blog readers thought enough of me and my love of all things bacon that she sent me this recipe? Talk about giving thanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had bacon on the brain lately, too.  I just heard this comic, Jim Gaffigan, do this bit about bacon that had me weak.  According to him, bacon is a super food.  "How do we make food taste better?" he asks his audience.  "We wrap it in bacon! If it weren't for bacon, we wouldn't even know what a water chestnut is!". Too true, Mr. Gaffigan, too true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit, I wasn't always a fan of the scone. In my experience, scones have been hard, dry, and something that necessitated a cup of Earl Gray tea in order to wash it down your throat. &amp;nbsp;Then, several years ago, at a baby shower for a friend of mine, I tried Bacon Cheddar Scones. Now, as you know, me and the cheese have an on again-off again relationship. It's mostly off, but I will deign to eat a few varieties. Okay, I really only eat mozzerella, but I'm &lt;i&gt;trying&lt;/i&gt;. I mean, baked brie with kahlua and pecans is still baked brie, right? Anyway, these Bacon Cheddar Scones were ridiculously good. &amp;nbsp;I had a mug full of baby shower punch nearby, I figured I'd be alright if the first bite was a cheese overload.&amp;nbsp;They weren't too cheesy. It was almost as if someone had just waved a hunk of sharp cheddar over the batter before baking them. &amp;nbsp;As far as texture went, they were crumbly, but a hard crumble, like one of those Stella D'Oro breakfast cookies. You know what I mean. &amp;nbsp;These things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.onsugar.com/files/ons1/307/3075777/28_2009/2f2709728cf38b34_073510001959.xlarge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://media.onsugar.com/files/ons1/307/3075777/28_2009/2f2709728cf38b34_073510001959.xlarge.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://cookinginpajamas.onsugar.com/tag/breakfast-treats" target="_blank"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Actually, now that I think about it, the Bacon Cheddar Scone was kind of like this. &amp;nbsp;A little bit sweet, a little dry, and a little crumbly. &amp;nbsp;All with some bacon-y goodness thrown in. &amp;nbsp;One of my girlfriends and I practically set up camp around the plate, happily munching while other guests "oohed" and "aahhed" over the mom-to-be's gifts. &amp;nbsp;When it was time to go, another friend said "Let's grab a bottle of water on the way out for the ride home," to which&amp;nbsp;my BCS addicted pal, "No! No, I can't take a drink. I just want to have this flavor in my mouth a little while longer."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Seriously. They were&lt;i&gt; that&lt;/i&gt; good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Since then, while I've thought longingly on those scones, I haven't made them. &amp;nbsp;I did make the &lt;a href="http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/10/recipe-friday_14.html" target="_blank"&gt;Maple Bacon Scones&lt;/a&gt; a few weeks ago, courtesy of the Fresh Market, but the strongest flavor profile was the butter and the maple from the mix. &amp;nbsp;Evidently, the only bacon used in that recipe was the one they photographed to go on the front of the box.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Bacon and chocolate I already know make a good pair, as evidenced from the bars of &lt;a href="http://www.vosgeschocolate.com/?gclid=CLuY-8SVzawCFYt-5QodrkkusA" target="_blank"&gt;Vosges&lt;/a&gt; Bacon Dark Chocolate bars that manage to make it into my grocery cart every few weeks. &amp;nbsp;Funny how that happens. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Anyway, I have a feeling that the Bacon Chocolate Scones will be making a debut in my kitchen in the near future. &amp;nbsp;And if you see me walking around looking parched or dehydrated, it's because, "I just want to have this flavor in my mouth a little while longer. . ."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-8650279327827774517?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/8650279327827774517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=8650279327827774517&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/8650279327827774517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/8650279327827774517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/11/recipe-friday_03.html' title='Recipe Friday'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6211/6351758635_692d5e243f_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-7700488974145364330</id><published>2011-11-03T12:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-03T12:07:11.135-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Om, nom, nom</title><content type='html'>Taco Thursdays is pretty constant in our house, so much so that I usually have the basics on hand to just prep veggies in the morning and brown the meat in the afternoon. &amp;nbsp;Last week, however,&amp;nbsp;I had nothing to pull a magic meal together except one whiskered old onion. &amp;nbsp;So, I headed to the store, where I inevitably threw in more stuff than was on my list, including some Tostitos. &amp;nbsp;Mmmmm. . .I have &amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;re-discovered&lt;/i&gt; Tostitos. &amp;nbsp;How they have escaped my shopping cart for so long is beyond me. I suppose that when I &amp;nbsp;notice&amp;nbsp;Morgan consistently crumbling up tortilla chips into her Chipotle soft taco, it might be worth it to bring tortilla chips into our Taco Thursdays. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, at the store, I threw in the taco stuff: tomatoes, onions, black beans, lettuce, guacamole and avocado. Oh, and the&amp;nbsp;mozzerella cheese; I know, but my girls like the mild mozz with their tacos. Call it Mexitalian fusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorite taco fixin's is some salsa fresca. I could eat that all day long and have been known to run my fingers around the edge of the plate to get the last few remnants of cilantro, lime juice and onion. &amp;nbsp;In a pinch, however, I've also dumped some mild Pace picante sauce into a bowl and thrown in some chopped up avocado, a squirt of lime juice and a pinch of salt. &amp;nbsp;*le sigh* or should it be *el sigh*? Either way, delicious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I was feeling very ambitious, so after I dropped of the kids, I hit the gym, and then I came home and just attacked the house. Full on cleaning like I was expecting company. &amp;nbsp;My countertops glisten, my faucets fingerprint-free, and there's a touch of Febreeze in the air. &amp;nbsp;And I realize, I'm starving. &amp;nbsp;It's not quite lunch time, but I'm ready to belly up to the trough, if you know what I mean. &amp;nbsp;I fling open the pantry and am sorely disappointed to find it less than well stocked. &amp;nbsp;Who keeps eating the food?! I push around a box of microwave popcorn from 1996, a jar of Spanish olives, and can of Stovetop until my hands alights upon the distinctive blue of the Tostitos bag. Whoop! Whoop! &amp;nbsp;Do you know what this means?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;1. &amp;nbsp;Yes, I hid the chips from my family. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;2. Snack time, baby!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the fridge! Where waiting inside is half of an avocado and a jar of Pace. Sometimes, the planets do align and all is right with the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/e5/24/e5248e9cad862cf0ac20d8274d9cb2db_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/e5/24/e5248e9cad862cf0ac20d8274d9cb2db_h.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://vi.sualize.us/view/e5248e9cad862cf0ac20d8274d9cb2db/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&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/6647037438141813038-7700488974145364330?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/7700488974145364330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=7700488974145364330&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/7700488974145364330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/7700488974145364330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/11/om-nom-nom.html' title='Om, nom, nom'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-5060678879147320323</id><published>2011-10-31T11:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-31T11:59:39.558-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advice'/><title type='text'>Monday's Message</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NRNve7q7RHY/Tq7A9NoH_kI/AAAAAAAABys/s1f3OpEkgDc/s1600/misspelling.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="307" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NRNve7q7RHY/Tq7A9NoH_kI/AAAAAAAABys/s1f3OpEkgDc/s320/misspelling.jpeg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.theoatmeal.com/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Oy! For the love of all things chocolate, please, please, please don't let another day go by without committing this to memory. Share it with your friends! Tell your wife! Tell your kids! Three different words with three different meanings; learn the difference between the spelling and the usage.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Like everyone else, I have a few pet peeves, but none grate on my nerves more than grammatical errors. Grammar, for those of you who tucked all that up on the shelf next to your Algebra II/Trig and graphing calculators, is the rules that govern words, clauses and phrases in a given language. It also includes spelling and punctuation, the evil twins of Expository Writing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;The fastest way to get your resume trashed,&amp;nbsp;your email deleted or your proposal passed over? Grammatical errors. &amp;nbsp;It comes across as incompetent, thoughtless, and lackadaisical. &amp;nbsp;It says to me that while you took the time to spellcheck, you let Word clean up your sentences, too, instead of proofreading it yourself.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I don't know where this intolerance of improper grammar comes from! Honestly, I wasn't rapped on the knuckles as a child for not knowing the difference between direct objects or proper use of&lt;i&gt; et cetera &lt;/i&gt;versus &lt;i&gt;exempli gratia&lt;/i&gt; (that's a whole 'nother post). &amp;nbsp; Misspelling of words that you should have mastered in third grade? That's my nails on a chalkboard. &amp;nbsp;Using apostrophe's like sprinkles on a cake? Ugh, kryptonite. &amp;nbsp;I just.can't.stand.poor.grammar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;As my kids grow up, I continue to impart values and morals to them to help them be compassionate and respectful adults. &amp;nbsp;I will groom them to be upstanding individuals, forward thinkers, and well-rounded young ladies.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;But. . . .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will cut them out of the will in a New York minute if their grammar is atrocious! Learn proper grammar, if not for yourself, at least do it for Grandpa!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5blNduwjEHo/Tq7EU_2xjoI/AAAAAAAABy0/dTXLm48oYJY/s1600/181112152_AS7DdcY4_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5blNduwjEHo/Tq7EU_2xjoI/AAAAAAAABy0/dTXLm48oYJY/s200/181112152_AS7DdcY4_b.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pinterest.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And yes, I did proof-read and spell-check this post.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-5060678879147320323?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/5060678879147320323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=5060678879147320323&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5060678879147320323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5060678879147320323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/10/mondays-message_31.html' title='Monday&apos;s Message'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NRNve7q7RHY/Tq7A9NoH_kI/AAAAAAAABys/s1f3OpEkgDc/s72-c/misspelling.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-5865944360939872028</id><published>2011-10-28T20:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T20:08:35.902-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feel good'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny stuff'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><title type='text'>Guilty</title><content type='html'>I'll admit it. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.nerdblerp.com/uploaded/2010/10/1287156767_pumpkin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://media.nerdblerp.com/uploaded/2010/10/1287156767_pumpkin.jpg" width="249" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?q=pumpkin+full+of+candy&amp;amp;start=33&amp;amp;num=10&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;client=safari&amp;amp;rls=en&amp;amp;biw=1208&amp;amp;bih=684&amp;amp;tbm=isch&amp;amp;tbnid=_amreK4-6T0Q0M:&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://www.nerdblerp.com/story/2010-10-15-friday-favorites-halloween-candy-edition&amp;amp;docid=qw8zImDMzQM04M&amp;amp;imgurl=http://media.nerdblerp.com/uploaded/2010/10/1287156767_pumpkin.jpg&amp;amp;w=623&amp;amp;h=800&amp;amp;ei=eUGrTrH1J-nY0QHhkbXBDw&amp;amp;zoom=1&amp;amp;iact=hc&amp;amp;vpx=243&amp;amp;vpy=129&amp;amp;dur=757&amp;amp;hovh=254&amp;amp;hovw=198&amp;amp;tx=108&amp;amp;ty=149&amp;amp;sig=101489989868677517150&amp;amp;sqi=2&amp;amp;page=3&amp;amp;tbnh=137&amp;amp;tbnw=107&amp;amp;ndsp=18&amp;amp;ved=1t:429,r:1,s:33"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I am well into the Halloween candy already. &amp;nbsp;I tried to wait until the last minute to pick up the treats, but I was out trying to multi-task and cross items off of my to-do list. &amp;nbsp;And the suggestions of buying candy I don't like, wouldn't deign to eat? Um, it's doubtful such a thing exists. &amp;nbsp;Besides, I don't want our house to be "&lt;i&gt;that house", &lt;/i&gt;the one that gives the crappy candy like Necco Wafers, Whoppers, or Flavored Tootsie Rools. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Yeesh! I might as well give out pennies and raisins.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Of course at the rate I'm going, that might be all that we've got left come Halloween night. Now there's a spooky thought!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-5865944360939872028?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/5865944360939872028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=5865944360939872028&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5865944360939872028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5865944360939872028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/10/guilty.html' title='Guilty'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-2370214309339130606</id><published>2011-10-28T14:03:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T14:03:54.190-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Recipe Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.foodandwine.com/images/sys/201110-r-white-bean-ham-stew.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.foodandwine.com/images/sys/201110-r-white-bean-ham-stew.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/white-bean-and-ham-stew"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;White Bean and Ham Stew&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I made this soup last week, actually, and just got around to saying goodbye to the last bowlful today. &amp;nbsp;Talk about some hearty peasant fare. &amp;nbsp;I had planned to serve the soup with some crusty French bread, but then decided to go full on homemade and make some beer-bread. You don't need the Tastefully Simple mix to make it either. &amp;nbsp;All you need is a flour sifter, flour, salt, baking powder and beer. Sift, mix, stir and ta-da! Yummy bread that can stand alone or serve as a wingman as you fish the last few potatoes and carrots out of your ham and white bean stew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the stew. &amp;nbsp;Two words: Ham Hocks. Or is that one word? Whatever. The recipe called for 3.5 lbs of hock of ham, which seemed like quite a bit. I mean, while my knowledge of cuts of pork is spotty at best, I did know that a ham hock is, technically, the butt. Not to be confused with pork butt, though. That's a whole 'nother animal. Anyway, in my head, close to 4 lbs. of pig butt was way more than I wanted to undertake. When I got to the meat department though, I was pleasantly surprised to see the ham hocks came in prepackaged portions, like little butt steaks. &amp;nbsp;It said right on the package "butt slices" *hee, hee*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At home, I soaked my beans, picked out the cruddy looking ones (of which there were quite a few), and peeled the veggies. &amp;nbsp;I felt very "Strega Nona" as my pot bubbled, my knife flashed over root vegetables and my hocks did their job flavoring the broth. &amp;nbsp;My mom, who had been visiting with my dad, came in to survey my work mentioned that she was looking forward to trying out this soup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's this?" she asked, stirring up the bean covered hocks. "Is that pork?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, my mom had this on again/off again relationship with pork. &amp;nbsp;The idea that they are bottom feeders, and kind of filthy sometimes saps her appetite for bacon, ribs, and pork chops. &amp;nbsp;A few months ago, she was watching this show (probably on A&amp;amp;E while she waited for &lt;i&gt;Hoarders&lt;/i&gt; to come on) and she learned that pigs, in their quest for satiety, will each just about anything. &amp;nbsp;Including snakes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how my mom feels about snakes:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/dL3ZIc5IL2w" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dL3ZIc5IL2w&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And I don't know why Tom Arnold was in that clip. I don't remember that!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So, knowing the those wrigglers are the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amuse-bouche"&gt;amuse bouche&lt;/a&gt; for pigs really put her on the no-pork list. &amp;nbsp;Couple that with the examination of the ham hock package ("Does that say, 'butt slices'?), it looked like she was going to be having PB&amp;amp;J with the kids. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My dad, Craig, and myself, however put the pork behind us (haha!) and hungrily lapped up the soup. &amp;nbsp;I will say that the hocks were on the salty side, so I now know what "country cured" means. &amp;nbsp;I'd probably make this again, but instead of chopping up the pork and lacing it into the stew, I'm going to take it out after it's flavored everything and then pull a rotisserie chicken and drop that in the pot instead. A tweak here, a tweak there. . . it'll be great. No but(ts) about it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Sorry, I couldn't resist.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&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/6647037438141813038-2370214309339130606?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/2370214309339130606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=2370214309339130606&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/2370214309339130606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/2370214309339130606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/10/recipe-friday_28.html' title='Recipe Friday'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/dL3ZIc5IL2w/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-510348846977368181</id><published>2011-10-24T11:19:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T11:19:31.643-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday's Message</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g2txVNMAwjg/TqDL66qvg_I/AAAAAAAAByg/6AmCN4lFPlQ/s1600/go+at+least+once.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="197" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g2txVNMAwjg/TqDL66qvg_I/AAAAAAAAByg/6AmCN4lFPlQ/s320/go+at+least+once.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bitsotruth.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2011-07-12T10%3A04%3A00-05%3A00&amp;amp;max-results=200"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I've been wanting to get the heck out of Dodge lately. &amp;nbsp;I don't know what that's all about, but I'd like to visit a place I've never been. &amp;nbsp;Venice, Italy. &amp;nbsp;Lisbon, Portugal. &amp;nbsp;Montreal, Quebec. &amp;nbsp;San Francisco, California. Somewhere, anywhere. I'm ready to pack my bags, get on a plane, and disembark in a place where my Fodor's is my traveling companion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where would you go?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-510348846977368181?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/510348846977368181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=510348846977368181&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/510348846977368181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/510348846977368181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/10/mondays-message_24.html' title='Monday&apos;s Message'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g2txVNMAwjg/TqDL66qvg_I/AAAAAAAAByg/6AmCN4lFPlQ/s72-c/go+at+least+once.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-8385748470981047850</id><published>2011-10-21T12:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-21T12:07:50.375-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Recipe Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EcDsh2TOgmY/Sc2lNJ0a4yI/AAAAAAAAAHw/8EKhTpxJm1A/s1600/Penne_with_tomato_coriander_sauce.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EcDsh2TOgmY/Sc2lNJ0a4yI/AAAAAAAAAHw/8EKhTpxJm1A/s320/Penne_with_tomato_coriander_sauce.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lulusrecipes.blogspot.com/2009/03/penne-with-tomatoes-olives-and-capers.html"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Penne with Tomatoes, Capers and Olives&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Mmmm, pasta, pasta, pasta! Talk about comfort food. A few weeks ago, I went to an event where they had a made to order pasta station as part of the food choices available. &amp;nbsp;It was incredible, if not slightly overwhelming. Between the fresh produce, the cured meats, the cheeses (which I declined to eat, but could still appreciate), how could you not just keep coming back for combo after combo until you blind someone when the button on your pants pops off at a terminal velocity?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The chef had a few pre-prepared options for those who couldn't decide where to start (e.g. newbies such as myself). &amp;nbsp;In one chafing dish, there was pappardelle (big, wide noodles) with chicken, mushrooms and alfredo. &amp;nbsp;In another dish, there was farfalle (bow tie) pasta that had been sauteed with mild Italian sausage, mushrooms, sliced Kalamata olives, capers and marinara. &amp;nbsp; Ding! Ding! Ding! &amp;nbsp;Winner in chafing dish two.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Of course, in a public setting, you don't want to belly up to the trough. &amp;nbsp;You have to comport yourself in a manner befitting the situation and the guests. So, I took a dollop of pasta, a little slice of bread and proceeded to hooverize the whole thing after the first delicious bite. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;It was hot, tangy, salty, and totally satisfying. &amp;nbsp;And all I could think was, "Why haven't I made this myself?" &amp;nbsp;I love all of those things: capers, sausage, olives, mushrooms-- well, not mushrooms. &amp;nbsp;Overall, this recipe had things that I readily keep on hand at home. &amp;nbsp;Since I couldn't really tie it on at this event, I told myself that I'd try my hand at this recipe when I had a chance.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Fast forward two weeks and I'm pouring over the recipe book for an easy, yet tasty dinner to serve to some guests. &amp;nbsp;Then I remember! Pasta with a few of my favorite things. &amp;nbsp;Now, I'm no a culinary genius when it comes to determining how much of something a recipe needs. &amp;nbsp;Sure, I know a quarter cup from a quarter teaspoon, but I couldn't tell you how many quarters of whatever you're going to need to make something taste worthwhile. &amp;nbsp;So, off to Google to plug in ingredients and hope for some solid hits.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Success! &amp;nbsp;There were lots of suggestions, however the recipe from Lulu's Recipes was the closest to what I was looking for. &amp;nbsp;I subbed out the mushrooms, and opted to leave out the sausage in favor of some lightly fried chicken breasts. We had a pseudo-chicken parmigiana going on. &amp;nbsp;And knowing my children the way that I do, I set aside some of the pasta before I tossed it with the sauce since I knew that Morgan and Coever were going to give me some static (e.g. "Um, I like noodles that are plain with butter, thank &lt;i&gt;you&lt;/i&gt;, very much.").&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Buttered noodles included, the dish was a success. &amp;nbsp;Everyone had seconds and I'm pretty sure an attempt was made for thirds. &amp;nbsp;It was even better the next day, once the flavors had time to marry, as my dad likes to say.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'm feeling pretty confident in my recipe choices as of late, so I'm going to up the ante for next week. &amp;nbsp;White Bean and Ham Stew, courtesy of Food and Wine Magazine. &amp;nbsp;Stay tuned!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&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/6647037438141813038-8385748470981047850?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/8385748470981047850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=8385748470981047850&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/8385748470981047850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/8385748470981047850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/10/recipe-friday_21.html' title='Recipe Friday'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EcDsh2TOgmY/Sc2lNJ0a4yI/AAAAAAAAAHw/8EKhTpxJm1A/s72-c/Penne_with_tomato_coriander_sauce.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-6275370063804516478</id><published>2011-10-17T10:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-17T10:35:02.033-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advice'/><title type='text'>Monday's Message</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/fe/91/fe915948fd2f618bcf6bc29a13485a14_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/fe/91/fe915948fd2f618bcf6bc29a13485a14_h.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://vi.sualize.us/view/fe915948fd2f618bcf6bc29a13485a14/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;This image and the message will come together in a bit. . .just bear with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;So, a couple of days ago, Craig and I had to go to this black-tie event downtown. &amp;nbsp;The day was one of the books, let me tell you. &amp;nbsp;I got the girls off to school, took a class, came home to clean up, had a newborn photoshoot, came home, met my parents, went to read at Morgan's school, got the girls from school, came home again, went on an audition with my parents and the girls, came home and got dressed to go back out for this shin-dig. &amp;nbsp;I was really doubting that I would be able to get myself together in a timely manner for this event. &amp;nbsp;Miracle of miracles, I had a clean dress, stocking without any runs, and some 5 minute shoes to go with. &amp;nbsp;I had recently purchased this awesome pearl necklace and bracelet set from my friend&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.stelladot.com/sites/tamtan"&gt;Tamy&lt;/a&gt;, a Stella and Dot super seller, and I have been wearing it with everything. It just goes with everything. The combo I whipped up for the black-tie event was no exception.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lGlU4IWr_jw/Tpw5H9EhIAI/AAAAAAAAByY/3yRKVVRDw5M/s1600/DSC_0200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lGlU4IWr_jw/Tpw5H9EhIAI/AAAAAAAAByY/3yRKVVRDw5M/s320/DSC_0200.jpg" width="256" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;I had my make-up right, I had the hair "did", and I had the dress on with room to breathe (Hallelujah)! &amp;nbsp;I was looking good and felt like I needed to share all of this fashion forward goodness with the masses. &amp;nbsp;So Craig snapped a picture and I turned to&amp;nbsp;FaceBook. I know, I know, but I like to think I don't do this very often, so I can show off just a little bit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Can I tell you, the response was AH-mazing?! &amp;nbsp;Oh my goodness, I got such great compliments. It was awesome! And yet, I had this overwhelming desire to reply to each one with "Thanks, but you know I don't always look like this" or "Thanks, but believe me, I'll be turning into a pumpkin at midnight."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;What's that all about? Why can't I just take a compliment for what it is and move on? Several years ago, I posted about this very same thing. &amp;nbsp;I was making excuses as to why I should not receive compliments. &amp;nbsp;For example, a typical exchange back then went like this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;You: "Wow, the last time I saw you, you were out to here (miming a beach ball tummy) pregnant. You look fantastic! And it's only been 3 months!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-6091980288706837509" style="line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 632px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Oh, thanks, but I worked out the whole pregnancy"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You: "What a sweet little girl you have. She is so polite!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Yeah, but she was SO bad yesterday, I thought we were going to have to exorcise the demons!"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See what I mean? What's up with that? Why can't I just take it for what it is?&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal;"&gt;Was it because I didn't deserve kind words? Was it because the giver was so blatantly full of crap, how could they expect me to accept their foolishness? No and no. &amp;nbsp; I think I was too conscientious of someone else's feelings that to just take it at face value was to be selfish, stuck-up or self-centered. &amp;nbsp;Bottomline: I didn't want to make you feel bad because you were trying to make me feel good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-6091980288706837509" style="line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 632px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-6091980288706837509" style="line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 632px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Oh, I just heard dozens of psychiatrists dusting off their couches. . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-6091980288706837509" style="line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 632px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-6091980288706837509" style="line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 632px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;A compliment is defined as an expression of praise, commendation, or admiration. It's meant to be taken as such. There is no qualifier that says you must explain to yourself or anyone else why you deserve that praise or admiration. I don't know if this is just unique to me or if it's a woman thing, but I don't think guys have this problem. I mean, have you ever seen an exchange like this?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-6091980288706837509" style="line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 632px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Jack: Dude, great coverage on the defense during that last play (swats teammates' butt&amp;nbsp;in a strong, masculine way&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Joe: I know, right?! I'm on fire today! I'm the man! (pumps fist in the air and then punches teammate in the face with a strong right hook).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Okay, I grossly exaggerated that, but you get the point, right? Men just take the compliment. Actually, it seems like that take it and then they embellish it! Like telling you, "Yes, I agree with my greatness and let me point out some other things for you, too." &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;n any event, regarding the receipt of compliments, the plan is to be gracious and accepting, consider each compliment a bite-sized morsel of something decadent and totally satisfying (it always comes back to food for me), because that's really what it is. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-6091980288706837509" style="line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 632px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-6091980288706837509" style="line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 632px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;The image above of the free compliments? Notice how the one highlighted item simply says, "Take one!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-6091980288706837509" style="position: relative; width: 632px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"&gt;Alright, I will!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-6275370063804516478?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/6275370063804516478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=6275370063804516478&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/6275370063804516478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/6275370063804516478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/10/mondays-message_17.html' title='Monday&apos;s Message'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lGlU4IWr_jw/Tpw5H9EhIAI/AAAAAAAAByY/3yRKVVRDw5M/s72-c/DSC_0200.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-1286294755169565869</id><published>2011-10-14T14:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T14:10:58.060-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Recipe Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="5" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="hw" style="font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;"&gt;rec·i·pe&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="pron" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(128, 158, 131); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; cursor: pointer;"&gt;(r&lt;img align="absbottom" src="http://img.tfd.com/hm/GIF/ebreve.gif" /&gt;s&lt;img align="absbottom" src="http://img.tfd.com/hm/GIF/prime.gif" /&gt;&lt;img align="absbottom" src="http://img.tfd.com/hm/GIF/schwa.gif" /&gt;-p&lt;img align="absbottom" src="http://img.tfd.com/hm/GIF/emacr.gif" /&gt;&lt;img align="absbottom" src="http://img.tfd.com/hm/GIF/lprime.gif" /&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="pseg"&gt;&lt;i&gt;n.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="ds-list" style="margin-left: 1cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;1.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;A set of directions with a list of ingredients for making or preparing something, especially food.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ds-list" style="margin-left: 1cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;2.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;A formula for or means to a desired end:&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="illustration" style="color: #226699; font-style: italic;"&gt;a recipe for success.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ds-list" style="margin-left: 1cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;3.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;A medical prescription.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thefreedictionary.com/recipe"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6FArRZZPXs0/Tph5x9gSRNI/AAAAAAAAByA/mFDpoIq-nVc/s1600/DSC_0214.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6FArRZZPXs0/Tph5x9gSRNI/AAAAAAAAByA/mFDpoIq-nVc/s400/DSC_0214.jpg" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;At first, I didn't think that this Magnificent Maple Bacon Scone mix counted as a recipe because there wasn't any measuring of flour, sugar, or salt on my part (though I did add some heavy whipping cream). &amp;nbsp;It was basically open box, mix, and bake, which as a set of instructions, constitute a recipe! Sometimes, it's a nice change of pace to have a three step endeavor than a multi-step task involving ingredients you can't pronounce and have to acquire in shops that also sell eye of newt and wing of bat.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;I was under the impression that scones were hard, dry, and flavorless, despite the fancy monikers they have (lavender rosemary or chai vanilla anyone?). &amp;nbsp;Still, maple + bacon? Two of my favorite flavors in a baked good? Hot ziggity pig!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Start to finish, the whole thing took 20 minutes. &amp;nbsp;I will say that the box is deceiving. &amp;nbsp;Look at that box, look at those bits o' bacon embedded in the scone. &amp;nbsp;That's all the bacon that you get. &amp;nbsp;There was n'er nada piece of pork in that mix! &amp;nbsp;Seriously, the only way you're getting bacon in these scones is if you fry some up and stud the dough with it before you bake it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;After you mix the dry mix with the cream, you get this tough kind of dough, which made me think these scones were probably going to be used as doorstops when they came out of the oven. &amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;was conservative in my cook time, keeping it to the lower end of the suggested range and it paid off. &amp;nbsp;Once they came out, all golden and smelling good, they remained soft.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tpmBYE75wcE/Tph5ykvjwYI/AAAAAAAAByI/WwpRAuFWcJk/s1600/DSC_0221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tpmBYE75wcE/Tph5ykvjwYI/AAAAAAAAByI/WwpRAuFWcJk/s320/DSC_0221.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;(these kind of have a gangsta lean going on here, don't they?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I slapped some butter on those little wedges and it was delightful. &amp;nbsp;I felt very British, very &lt;i&gt;Cheerio! God Save the Queen! Pip-pip!&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;These might not make it to Sunday brunch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NJnVL5zjsP4/Tph5z9Za_bI/AAAAAAAAByQ/a1GuW1KJnoo/s1600/DSC_0223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NJnVL5zjsP4/Tph5z9Za_bI/AAAAAAAAByQ/a1GuW1KJnoo/s320/DSC_0223.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Happy week-end, y'all!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-1286294755169565869?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/1286294755169565869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=1286294755169565869&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/1286294755169565869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/1286294755169565869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/10/recipe-friday_14.html' title='Recipe Friday'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6FArRZZPXs0/Tph5x9gSRNI/AAAAAAAAByA/mFDpoIq-nVc/s72-c/DSC_0214.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-2717927011231787741</id><published>2011-10-10T07:49:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-10T07:50:14.652-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='honesty'/><title type='text'>Monday's Message</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-06k6fRrpMuw/TpLZ3quYs2I/AAAAAAAABx8/VQgRtKYQxyY/s1600/280329071_1MCkdzCO_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-06k6fRrpMuw/TpLZ3quYs2I/AAAAAAAABx8/VQgRtKYQxyY/s320/280329071_1MCkdzCO_c.jpg" width="307" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://imgfave.com/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My dad says that my expectations of other people are too high, and that's why I'm consistently disappointed when things don't go the way I think they should. &amp;nbsp;I have a hard time just accepting this overly- pessimistic assessment of people, but could never point to a reason as to why it wasn't true or why it shouldn't be that way. &amp;nbsp;"&lt;i&gt;It's just not right. . .&lt;/i&gt;" and "&lt;i&gt;Why shouldn't I expect more from people. . .&lt;/i&gt;" -- those are pretty weak retorts. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;A couple of days ago, I found this quote and realized, &lt;i&gt;that's&lt;/i&gt; why my expectations are where they are. &amp;nbsp;I know what I'm willing to do. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;What about you?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-2717927011231787741?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/2717927011231787741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=2717927011231787741&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/2717927011231787741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/2717927011231787741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/10/mondays-message_10.html' title='Monday&apos;s Message'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-06k6fRrpMuw/TpLZ3quYs2I/AAAAAAAABx8/VQgRtKYQxyY/s72-c/280329071_1MCkdzCO_c.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-7153432406468388944</id><published>2011-10-07T15:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T15:52:21.589-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Recipe Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/sites/files/marthastewart.com/images/content/pub/everyday_food/2010Q4/med106155_1110_din_meatballs_hd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.marthastewart.com/sites/files/marthastewart.com/images/content/pub/everyday_food/2010Q4/med106155_1110_din_meatballs_hd.jpg" width="256" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/329035/asian-turkey-meatballs-with-carrot-rice"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Asian Turkey Meatballs with Carrot Rice&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;After the disappointment that was &lt;a href="http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/09/what-else-is-cooking.html"&gt;Avocado Fries&lt;/a&gt;, I had to get back into the kitchen and whip up something more pleasing to the tastebuds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a recipe that I was introduced to from my friend Tavya at one of our oenophilic book clubs. &amp;nbsp;Over the course of our bookclubs' existence, it has morphed from a few snacks shared over poignant discussion about the latest selection to a more Bacchanalian type revelry where the only thing we end up reading is the label on the wine bottle. &amp;nbsp;Ahhh, literature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress. &amp;nbsp;Last fall, Tavya graciously opened her home (and her wine bottles) to us, complete with a homemade Asian repast. &amp;nbsp;She and another friend had taken some Asian cooking classes at one of the local schools and decided to share their knowledge with us. &amp;nbsp;Enter the Asian Turkey Meatballs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm strictly a chicken and beef kind of girl. Turkey, pork, lamb -- eh, I'll eat it, but give me a steak or a chicken breast first and then another one later to wash out the taste. &amp;nbsp;I think my aversion to using turkey when beef is clearly indicated stems from my mother's attempts to "put one over" on us as kids. &amp;nbsp;Back before Jessica Seinfield was slipping pureed cauliflower into brownies, my own mother was subbing ground turkey for ground beef and telling us, "Really! These are the same tacos I made last week." I'm not saying my tastebuds are Eric Ripert sophisticated, but even I know the difference between mushed up meat, Old El Paso seasoning or not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like my turkey (when I deign to eat it, that is), either cut off the bird or sliced off a log emblazoned with the Boar's Head logo on it. &amp;nbsp;Ground turkey? Eh. &amp;nbsp;There's something about the bubble gum pink waves of meat laying in the styrofoam tray that makes my stomach do several half-gainers. &amp;nbsp;Then, when you cook it? It's not an odor, not an aroma, which implies something pleasant. It just gives off this whiff of poultry, just too much poultry. &amp;nbsp;I've been over-poultried; I can't season it up fast enough. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Tavya presented the meatballs with several dipping sauces, describing how she made them and promptly lost me when she said, "ground turkey". &amp;nbsp;Not one to be a bad guest, however, I loaded one on my plate with the other goodies and decided to give it at least a courtesy bite. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between animated discussion not centered around the book (yeah, I can't remember what it was), we drank and ate and ate and drank. After a while, I realized, my meatball was gone and I had been steadily spearing others from the serving tray. &amp;nbsp;They were delicious! And I'm even going to go as far as to say they were kinda healthy because it was. . .. turkey! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the recipe several days later and stocked up on the ingredients to try it out on Mo and Co. &amp;nbsp;When I got to the meat department at the store, I couldn't go all in with the ground turkey (old habits die hard), so I split the difference with some ground pork. &amp;nbsp;That was actually a good call because I was able to make enough meatballs for dinner that evening and freeze a whole bunch for dinners down the road. &amp;nbsp;What was that?! Menu planning?! I know, I'm just as surprised as you are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the meatballs were browned and cooking in the oven. I had some basmati rice with shaved carrots on the stove. I made of the &lt;a href="http://www.whatsgoodattraderjoes.com/2010/08/tjs-chicken-cilantro-mini-wontons.html"&gt;Trader Joe Cilantro Chicken Wontons&lt;/a&gt;, which if you don't know, you must educated yourself immediately. &amp;nbsp;I called the girls to dinner and hyped up the whole meal as "better than Chinese food" (dangerous, yes, but I was pretty proud of my culinary skills). &amp;nbsp;With a flourish, I handed them some kiddie chopsticks because if you're going to sell it, sell it all the way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk about clean plate club. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asian Turkey (and Pork) Meatballs? You're a welcome guest any time.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-7153432406468388944?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/7153432406468388944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=7153432406468388944&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/7153432406468388944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/7153432406468388944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/10/recipe-friday.html' title='Recipe Friday'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-240190774165517846</id><published>2011-10-06T11:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T11:23:59.695-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank you, Mr. Jobs</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/49/a4/apple,manzana,plateada-49a44050deb28bbe6d8e69d0b4e6fd1b_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/49/a4/apple,manzana,plateada-49a44050deb28bbe6d8e69d0b4e6fd1b_h.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://vi.sualize.us/view/49a44050deb28bbe6d8e69d0b4e6fd1b/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;How fortunate to have been witness to a great mind.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;How amazing to have been able to experience exceptional innovation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;How unbelievable it is to think about how we communicated before.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Thank you, Mr. Jobs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-240190774165517846?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/240190774165517846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=240190774165517846&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/240190774165517846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/240190774165517846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/10/thank-you-mr-jobs.html' title='Thank you, Mr. Jobs'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-1238543326154613755</id><published>2011-10-05T13:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T13:31:39.129-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No Compliments to the Chef</title><content type='html'>When I picked up Mo-Dizzle from school yesterday, I asked her how her day went. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, it was good," she said, buckling herself into her seat. &amp;nbsp;"I left you a note in my lunchbox about my sandwich, though."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Huh?" I asked, wheeling us out of the carpool lane and into traffic. &amp;nbsp;"What happened to your sandwich?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing, I just didn't eat it. &amp;nbsp;I left you a note about it." she repeated and then promptly severed communication by sticking her nose in a Magic Tree House Book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to the great unload from the car: backpacks, library books, assorted jackets, sweaters, and stray papers. &amp;nbsp; As girls hung up their stuff, &amp;nbsp;I opened up the lunchboxes. &amp;nbsp;In Morgan's lunchbox, I found the aforementioned note:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0rMfFi-yK4s/TouOXDPsmvI/AAAAAAAABx0/GYY0tNmNrW4/s1600/DSC_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0rMfFi-yK4s/TouOXDPsmvI/AAAAAAAABx0/GYY0tNmNrW4/s400/DSC_0001.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;"&lt;i&gt;I do not like crasty sandwichs&lt;/i&gt;."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;What the devil? What happened to her sandwich between last night when I made it and this afternoon when she was supposed to have eaten it? &amp;nbsp;I popped the top of the sandwich keeper to find this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eEdAXcDGvqc/TouO-bE1g5I/AAAAAAAABx4/vhQN2OQq5pI/s1600/DSC_0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eEdAXcDGvqc/TouO-bE1g5I/AAAAAAAABx4/vhQN2OQq5pI/s320/DSC_0008.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Unblemished (uneaten) PBJ&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;"Morgan!" I called, holding the "offending" sandwich out in front of me. "What's the matter with this? Why didn't you eat it?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(insert exasperated six-year old eye roll) &lt;/i&gt;"I don't like &lt;i&gt;crasty &lt;/i&gt;sandwiches! Next time, will you please cut off the crast?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Crast? &lt;i&gt;Crust&lt;/i&gt;! Cut off the crust! &amp;nbsp;Oh, good lord.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Request for &lt;i&gt;crast-less &lt;/i&gt;sandwiches duly noted. &amp;nbsp;And far be it from me to waste a perfectly good PBJ, so&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;guess who had a "&lt;i&gt;crast-less&lt;/i&gt;" PBJ for dinner?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Here's a hint: she's six years old and has a wicked eye roll.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&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/6647037438141813038-1238543326154613755?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/1238543326154613755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=1238543326154613755&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/1238543326154613755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/1238543326154613755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/10/no-compliments-to-chef.html' title='No Compliments to the Chef'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0rMfFi-yK4s/TouOXDPsmvI/AAAAAAAABx0/GYY0tNmNrW4/s72-c/DSC_0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-5110441080764061853</id><published>2011-10-05T13:30:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T13:30:30.814-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lunch</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.examiner.com/images/blog/replicate/EXID51428/images/chipotle-chicken-bowl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" src="http://www.examiner.com/images/blog/replicate/EXID51428/images/chipotle-chicken-bowl.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?q=chipotle+chicken+fajita+bowl&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;sa=X&amp;amp;biw=1462&amp;amp;bih=805&amp;amp;tbm=isch&amp;amp;tbnid=MDKdhoqQOXAfVM:&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://www.fairfaxunderground.com/forum/read/40/510699/511006.html&amp;amp;docid=zCQpBTICfh2oPM&amp;amp;w=450&amp;amp;h=337&amp;amp;ei=5pOMTuWtIdOHhQfKvYjeAw&amp;amp;zoom=1&amp;amp;iact=hc&amp;amp;vpx=99&amp;amp;vpy=153&amp;amp;dur=71&amp;amp;hovh=193&amp;amp;hovw=259&amp;amp;tx=106&amp;amp;ty=62&amp;amp;page=1&amp;amp;tbnh=144&amp;amp;tbnw=182&amp;amp;start=0&amp;amp;ndsp=27&amp;amp;ved=1t:429,r:0,s:0"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm embarassed to admit how often I have a Chicken Fajita Bowl for lunch. &amp;nbsp;Let's just say, I think I need a Chipotle-vention. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;. . .right after I finish this last bowl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-5110441080764061853?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/5110441080764061853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=5110441080764061853&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5110441080764061853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5110441080764061853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/10/lunch.html' title='Lunch'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-34247816468235217</id><published>2011-10-04T19:04:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-04T19:04:05.199-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday's Message</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I may be a day late (I'm bordering on two days actually), but the message is still poignant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8eAOr4zZhGo/ToXzMrdYZrI/AAAAAAAAF6o/3I9Wwg1d3Gg/s1600/how+to+be+happy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8eAOr4zZhGo/ToXzMrdYZrI/AAAAAAAAF6o/3I9Wwg1d3Gg/s1600/how+to+be+happy.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bitsotruth.blogspot.com/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;That is all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-34247816468235217?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/34247816468235217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=34247816468235217&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/34247816468235217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/34247816468235217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/10/mondays-message.html' title='Monday&apos;s Message'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8eAOr4zZhGo/ToXzMrdYZrI/AAAAAAAAF6o/3I9Wwg1d3Gg/s72-c/how+to+be+happy.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-1845411411465075727</id><published>2011-09-27T08:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T08:52:12.924-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><title type='text'>What Else is Cooking?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tGOsRH_hZvQ/TYG2pufsXmI/AAAAAAAAAro/hKQauKQt6dQ/s400/IMG_8652-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="308" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tGOsRH_hZvQ/TYG2pufsXmI/AAAAAAAAAro/hKQauKQt6dQ/s320/IMG_8652-2.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://adventurescooking.blogspot.com/2011/03/avocado-fries-with-cilantro-lemon.html"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Avocado Fries with Cilantro Lemon Dipping Sauce&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This recipe had all kinds of promise. &amp;nbsp;Avocado? Fries? Dipping Sauce? That's a triumvirate of awesome and yet, the whole thing just tasted wrong, wrong, wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The recipe was simple enough. I had this flawless "Slimcado" from the Fresh Market. &amp;nbsp;I'd never heard of Slimcado before. &amp;nbsp;I just grabbed a ripe looking avocado, but according to the label on the skin, the Florida Slimcado has less fat and calories than the California avocado. &amp;nbsp;Who knew?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sliced it, pitted it, peeled it and made it into respectable looking fries. &amp;nbsp;I dusted it with the breadcrumb and salt &amp;amp; pepper mixture, dredged it through some egg yolk, and threw it back into the crumbs before tossing it into the oil. &amp;nbsp;They came out a nice crisp-ity, crunch-ity golden brown. &amp;nbsp;Seriously, I could have taken the picture above, that's how true to form it looked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we sat down to lunch, Craig, the girls and I. &amp;nbsp;Coever took one look and said, "Uh. . .no." &amp;nbsp;Morgan was more adventurous, but after one bite declared, "I kind of like it and I kind of don't. More like don't."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, at least she tried it. &amp;nbsp;Craig and I ate a few pieces, which were quite nice, but it seemed like every second or third piece had a weird, bitter aftertaste. &amp;nbsp;At first, I thought it was just the pieces that I had been eating. Maybe my palate had been compromised after having lunched on peppery chicken wings and overly dressed salad. &amp;nbsp;Too many flavor combinations had sullied my ability to detect the freshness of the Slimcado. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope, not really . &amp;nbsp; When lunch was over, Craig and I were cleaning up. My hand hovered over the "fries" and we exchanged a glance. "Did some of yours taste. . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bitter," he finished for me. &amp;nbsp;Okay, then. I may have to follow-up with blogger who posted this to get to the bottom of the bitter. &amp;nbsp;Maybe my cooking temp was too high? Maybe my Slimcado was overripe? Maybe my breadcrumbs weren't seasoned well enough? Maybe it doesn't really matter. &amp;nbsp;I doubt I'll be trying it again any time soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's too bad, really. &amp;nbsp;I mean, you can fry an Oreo/Twinkie/pickle and they all taste good. &amp;nbsp;Oh, Slimcado, perhaps that's your way of telling us to leave you in your natural, green creamy goodness. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with a side of chips and some margaritas, of course.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&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/6647037438141813038-1845411411465075727?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/1845411411465075727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=1845411411465075727&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/1845411411465075727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/1845411411465075727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/09/what-else-is-cooking.html' title='What Else is Cooking?'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tGOsRH_hZvQ/TYG2pufsXmI/AAAAAAAAAro/hKQauKQt6dQ/s72-c/IMG_8652-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-6197296755036109786</id><published>2011-09-22T13:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-22T13:00:41.909-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='working out'/><title type='text'>Gross</title><content type='html'>Before starting with the kettlebells, I'd been hitting the Y to burn out a few miles on the treadmill or a few reps with the free weights. &amp;nbsp;It's not as an intense a work-out as I'd like, but I'm doing something because I'm a regular sweat-shop when it's all said and done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Given my propensity towards less than stellar body image, it's a surprise that I'm pretty cavalier when it comes to communal showers at the gym. &amp;nbsp;Honestly, I don't really think about it. I'm there to hose off, dry off and get on with my day. &amp;nbsp;There just happen to be a motley crue of women of varying ethnictities, ages, and body types walking around like they're in their own private homes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I definitely exercise some modesty and decorum when it comes to dressing, undressing and entering/exiting the showers. &amp;nbsp;I never, never, never engage someone in conversation in the shower and if repeatedly chatted up by someone, I look in their eyes, keep my answers brief and to the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Y has stall showers with curtains. &amp;nbsp;It's very reminiscent of dorm life, what with the number of people coming in and out, the hair dryers buzzing in the background and so on. &amp;nbsp;Most ladies wrap a towel around themselves, grab their toilette gear and shower up. &amp;nbsp;There are a few that go totally "bucket nekkid", and hey, good for them. &amp;nbsp;After inadvertently casting my eyes upon a woman so wrinkled, I wanted to run up to her with a hot iron, I quickly learned to focus my eyes on where the ceiling meets the wall or the wall meets the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The showers are very clean; there is a team of Y staffers in there to regularly scrub them down. &amp;nbsp;Still, it's not my shower at home, so I'm super careful not to lean up against any walls or curtains. &amp;nbsp;And I absolutely, positively wear some shower shoes. I've got a pair of flip flops that I keep in my gym bag for this express purpose. &amp;nbsp;They are gym shower shoes. That's it. And I wear them every.single.time. &amp;nbsp;No shoes? Not likely since they stay in the bag, but in the off chance that they weren't there, well then, sorry, John Q. Public. You're going have to deal with my funk until I can get home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Sadly, I am in the minority when it comes to this particular matter. &amp;nbsp;Scads of women roll through that place barefoot.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.foothealers.com/images/stories/80AFCC6B20A1565FE9E045DC62EEF9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.foothealers.com/images/stories/80AFCC6B20A1565FE9E045DC62EEF9.jpg" style="cursor: move;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?q=feet+shower&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;biw=1462&amp;amp;bih=805&amp;amp;tbm=isch&amp;amp;tbnid=4dl8EHbCGJLymM:&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://www.foothealers.com/about-us/foot-healers-blog/athletes-foot-ways-to-keep-your-feet-fungus-free.html&amp;amp;docid=KrSyL-boWB8nbM&amp;amp;w=300&amp;amp;h=270&amp;amp;ei=bGF7Tvy2DKbL0QHdn6HcAg&amp;amp;zoom=1&amp;amp;iact=hc&amp;amp;vpx=600&amp;amp;vpy=139&amp;amp;dur=2632&amp;amp;hovh=212&amp;amp;hovw=236&amp;amp;tx=112&amp;amp;ty=132&amp;amp;page=1&amp;amp;tbnh=135&amp;amp;tbnw=139&amp;amp;start=0&amp;amp;ndsp=28&amp;amp;ved=1t:429,r:3,s:0"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;On top of that, some of the older ladies leave the curtain open so they can continue their conversations while scrubbing up (and down. and parts in between). &amp;nbsp;I don't want to see your version of &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fZJjdeTZsas/TaC3RK38UCI/AAAAAAAABFw/6m8QfdO9spo/s1600/yoga.jpg"&gt;Royal Dancer&lt;/a&gt; as you try to get your bar of Dial between your first and second toes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;In the locker room, there's tile floor in the "wet areas" (toilets, shower, pool area) and there's carpet in the "dry areas" (lockers, ingress and egress, hair dryer stations). Both the wet and dry areas are clean, but not so clean that I'd pad around with nothing protecting my feet. &amp;nbsp;*shudder*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows what kind of germ-fest is going on around there. Sure, you want to wash all parts possible in the shower. &amp;nbsp;So, balance on one flip flopped foot and scrub the other. Switch. Repeat as necessary. What's the point of scrubbing your feet, and then walking out across the tiles and floor barefoot? You're just picking that junk right back up (and maybe a few other things, too). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*blech* and don't even get me started about dropping the soap or, God forbid, your towel on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-6197296755036109786?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/6197296755036109786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=6197296755036109786&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/6197296755036109786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/6197296755036109786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/09/gross.html' title='Gross'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-7272911393265578264</id><published>2011-09-21T10:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T10:56:38.483-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='just do it'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><title type='text'>#55</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6ytL6Y2WFKg/Tnn5hNqsvaI/AAAAAAAABxs/0_QtHuCPXkA/s1600/321593_244073275637178_116666891711151_748076_2879104_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6ytL6Y2WFKg/Tnn5hNqsvaI/AAAAAAAABxs/0_QtHuCPXkA/s1600/321593_244073275637178_116666891711151_748076_2879104_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why, yes, that &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;is&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; my big brother. &amp;nbsp;Season after season, still going strong. &amp;nbsp;I'm thinking his PR people opted to use this photo because in the midst of the action, he's just too freakin' fast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-7272911393265578264?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/7272911393265578264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=7272911393265578264&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/7272911393265578264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/7272911393265578264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/09/55.html' title='#55'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6ytL6Y2WFKg/Tnn5hNqsvaI/AAAAAAAABxs/0_QtHuCPXkA/s72-c/321593_244073275637178_116666891711151_748076_2879104_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-5587017760494654123</id><published>2011-09-20T12:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-20T12:05:27.738-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='venting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Waiting</title><content type='html'>I hate it when this happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a really sweet coupon from the Loft in the mail several weeks ago and I've dying to use it. &amp;nbsp;Fall is here; it's time to upgrade some sweaters, maybe throw in some new cords or something. &amp;nbsp;The weather is cooperating, making any purchase justifiable. &amp;nbsp;Throw in the coupon and it's practically a crime &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; to do some wardrobe maintenance. &amp;nbsp;Seriously, it's burning a hole in my pocket. Or at least, it would be if I kept it in my pocket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas, the coupon has been sitting in the bottom of my purse. &amp;nbsp;The expiration date creeps steadily closer as the temperatures fall a little lower. What's the problem you ask? Here's the problem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like any of the new stuff they've got out!&lt;br /&gt;I can't find any of things that Tim Gunn/Lloyd Boston/Stacy London say I need to round out my closet!&lt;br /&gt;I haven't found any of the new fall color schemes in the latest Loft collection!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seemingly, whenever I'm out with nary a cent or coupon to my name, that's of course, when I find exactly what I need in my size, cut, color, and style. &amp;nbsp;Black all purpose blazer? Perfect! &amp;nbsp;Debit card status? Not so much. When I'm feeling more Mr. Moneybags than Scrooge McDuck, I can't find a plain white tee-shirt to save my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'mon, Ann Taylor Loft! Our relationship is too longstanding for you to turn your camel cape wearing shoulder on me now. &amp;nbsp;It is a nice cape, but more your style than mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--T0sZWluX7o/Tni4xM941fI/AAAAAAAABxo/ApLObLUUeWI/s1600/img-thing.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--T0sZWluX7o/Tni4xM941fI/AAAAAAAABxo/ApLObLUUeWI/s1600/img-thing.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.loft.com/loft/catalog/productDetails.jsp?prodId=261469&amp;amp;colorExplode=false&amp;amp;skuId=90365164&amp;amp;catid=catl00009&amp;amp;productPageType=fullPriceProducts&amp;amp;defaultColor=7128&amp;amp;prodId=261469&amp;amp;cid=A0001"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Bring out something I can work with. &amp;nbsp;Preferably before September 30th.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-5587017760494654123?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/5587017760494654123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=5587017760494654123&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5587017760494654123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5587017760494654123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/09/waiting.html' title='Waiting'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--T0sZWluX7o/Tni4xM941fI/AAAAAAAABxo/ApLObLUUeWI/s72-c/img-thing.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-2055245702726395013</id><published>2011-09-19T12:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-19T12:06:52.027-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>What's Cooking</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;A few weeks ago, I came across several blogs that decided to participate in the Pinterest Challenge. &amp;nbsp;Basically, instead of spending copious amounts of time virtually pinboarding crafts, outfits and books, people were getting off their butts and actually making the crafts, coordinating the outfits and reading the books. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;What a great idea, right? My boards are bursting with cool stuff, hence the reason I pinned them. &amp;nbsp;So I went back over to Pinterest to pull out some of the ideas that I'd been really wanting to try. &amp;nbsp;Several hours and few dozen pins later, I had to pick the kids up from school.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Yeah, that idea went out the window. &amp;nbsp;My resolve, however, did not. &amp;nbsp;I figured I'd start small. I don't have a sewing machine, so some of the more fashion forward&amp;nbsp;ideas got back burnered. &amp;nbsp;I don't have saw-horses, a jig-saw, spray adhesive or 7 yards of fabric, so some other DIY projects got tabled. &amp;nbsp;What I do have, though, is a pretty decent kitchen, a working knowledge of most herbs and spices, and access to a Whole Food AND a Fresh Market. &amp;nbsp;My recipe board, a.k.a. Munch, Munch, Much, was about to be brought to life.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Recipe One:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSnmMPQIv4qekYAOEbOp4xu271sh9JzwvU8ziUjh4Xk8W1GP04WqQ" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSnmMPQIv4qekYAOEbOp4xu271sh9JzwvU8ziUjh4Xk8W1GP04WqQ" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.recipe.com/wacky-wonton-soup/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Wacky Wonton Soup&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'm not a big soup eater by any means, but when it comes to Hot and Sour Soup or Wonton Soup, I've got my spoon at the ready. &amp;nbsp;I've had this recipe around for a while; I ripped it out of a magazine a few years ago, &amp;nbsp;but never made it. &amp;nbsp;The ingredients are pretty straightforward, enough that I was sure the kids would eat it. &amp;nbsp; They both love Chinese food anyway, so if I dish it up right, they might never guess it's home made.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I got out my pots, my cutting boards, and my spices. Ginger, garlic, shredded spinach, scallions and frozen wontons (thank you, Trader Joe). &amp;nbsp;It seemed daunting at first, but now that I know what I'm doing? I can make it in minutes. &amp;nbsp;The kids loved it. Craig loved it. &amp;nbsp;He took his first slurp and gave me this "&lt;i&gt;Oh, is that right&lt;/i&gt;?" kind of look. &amp;nbsp;Yeah, I put my foot all up in it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Look at me, setting the bar all high for this project. Are we surprised?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Munch, munch, munch: 1-0&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Recipe Two:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img4.realsimple.com/images/1107/halibut-potatoes_300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://img4.realsimple.com/images/1107/halibut-potatoes_300.jpg" width="268" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.realsimple.com/food-recipes/browse-all-recipes/halibut-salt-vinegar-potatoes-00100000061927/index.html"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Grilled Halibut with Salt and Vinegar Potatoes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Me and fish? Eh, not so much. I'm more of a shellfish kind of girl if I'm going to eat it at all. &amp;nbsp;Anything else, it's gotta be fried within an inch of it's life or else it came it a can with a mermaid on the side. &amp;nbsp;Still, with all the emphasis on good and bad cholesterol, omega 3 fatty acids and so forth, a little fish once or twice a week couldn't hurt. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This was actually less involved than the soup because after seasoning the fish and potatoes with some pantry staples, I just threw it on the grill. &amp;nbsp;I wish my presentation had looked like the above photo; I had a little trouble with the grill marks on the fish. &amp;nbsp;Who knew halibut was so soft? &amp;nbsp;Even though I sprayed the grill plates, the fillets stuck fast like castaways to a life raft. &amp;nbsp;The greenery on top of the fish is arugula, which I knew Morgan and Coever would have no parts of, so they had broccoli. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Morgan said, "This is the best chicken I've ever tasted!" and I just let her roll with that. &amp;nbsp;Coever and her super finicky palate? She choked down a few bites of everything, dessert being the brass ring dangling in front of her. &amp;nbsp; I'll give her that the potatoes could have been more crispy, but everything else was pretty good. &amp;nbsp; I may have to consider this a loss, because while Craig did eat it, he wasn't trying to box up the leftovers for lunch the way he did with the soup.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Munch, munch, munch: 1-1&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Recipe 3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.williams-sonoma.com/wsimgs/ab/images/dp/recipe/201134/0011/img46l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.williams-sonoma.com/wsimgs/ab/images/dp/recipe/201134/0011/img46l.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.williams-sonoma.com/recipe/roasted-chicken-with-cipollini.html"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Roasted Chicken with Cipollini&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Last month, I was talking about how Chicken Piccata was my &lt;a href="http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/08/signature.html"&gt;signature&lt;/a&gt; dish for when we had company come over. &amp;nbsp;I was all set to make it last week-end when &lt;a href="http://andydawg.blogspot.com/"&gt;Andy Dawg's Mom &lt;/a&gt;and her hubby came over for dinner. &amp;nbsp;Then, I remembered my challenge and pulled out this William Sonoma recipe I'd been carting around. &amp;nbsp;I hope our guests didn't have their mouths set on Chicken Piccata. They're expecting a wee one any day now; maybe I'll bring it on by when they get home from the hospital.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Anyway, this recipe I can't really claim to have completed on my own because Craig did the bulk of the work. &amp;nbsp;Our day was jam packed with running around, so I did all of the prep early in the morning. &amp;nbsp;Thankfully, the butcher had removed the backbone from the chicken, per the recipes instructions, so that was one thing we didn't have to do. &amp;nbsp;The seasoning, marinating and so forth? That was all me. &amp;nbsp;The &amp;nbsp;roasting, basting, and general chicken maintenance? That was all Craig. &amp;nbsp;When it was all said and done, it was pretty tasty. &amp;nbsp;We served it up with some Rosemary Beer Bread, Onion Potatoes, and Roasted Carrots and Brussel Sprouts (I know, I know, I took a chance on the sprouts, but I think they're tasty). &amp;nbsp;Suffice it to say, everyone cleaned their plates at dinner. &amp;nbsp;Well, Coever decided to eat the crackers, cheese and salami from the appetizer tray, but her plate was clean in the end.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Munch, munch, munch: 2-1&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;What's next on the menu?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img4.realsimple.com/images/1006/ribs-marinated-flanken_300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://img4.realsimple.com/images/1006/ribs-marinated-flanken_300.jpg" width="268" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.realsimple.com/food-recipes/browse-all-recipes/spicy-soy-marinated-flanken-00000000034341/index.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Spicy Soy-Marinated Flanken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I didn't even know what flanken was when I first looked at this recipe. I saw meat with grill marks and that was good enough for me. &amp;nbsp;I went to the butcher at the Whole Foods, showed him the picture and he was like, "Oh yeah, we can cut that right up." He even suggested some marinades and side dishes that would go well with the meat. &amp;nbsp;So, I've got some ideas for what it about to be tomorrow night's dinner.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;As for tonight? It's looking like we're going back to basics. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Hello, tacos. . .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span id="goog_1980095939"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="goog_1980095940"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-2055245702726395013?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/2055245702726395013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=2055245702726395013&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/2055245702726395013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/2055245702726395013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/09/whats-cooking.html' title='What&apos;s Cooking'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-1075780342621853601</id><published>2011-09-16T10:16:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-16T10:16:35.046-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='aww HAYLE no'/><title type='text'>Customer Service</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lblHfZfzbYE/Thqk5MvoBpI/AAAAAAAAAg4/3Gz8uV_IbzI/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="314" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lblHfZfzbYE/Thqk5MvoBpI/AAAAAAAAAg4/3Gz8uV_IbzI/s320/image.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://live4fashion.blogspot.com/2011/07/tiffany-co.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiffany and Company had their grand opening at the &lt;a href="http://www.shopstonypoint.com/"&gt;Stony Point Fashion Park&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;on September 9th. &amp;nbsp;Seeing as it was my birthday just the day before, I thought I'd keep this party going one more day and roll on over. &amp;nbsp;I have&amp;nbsp;this necklace I wanted shortened and a pair of earrings that were missing some backs. &amp;nbsp;Really though, I was looking for a little more "Happy Birthday" to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I waited until early afternoon to make my visit, thinking that since Stony Point is close to Morgan's school, I'd peruse the shop, get my repairs and still be on time for afternoon carpool. &amp;nbsp; Let me tell you, when I got there, you'd have thought they were giving stuff away. &amp;nbsp;People (read:women) had been clearly waiting for this store for a long time. &amp;nbsp;I overheard one associate say that folks were lined up outside at 10am when the mall opened. &amp;nbsp; When I got there at 1pm, the crowd was still thick. &amp;nbsp;Flanking the entrance were two stacks of Tiffany boxes at least 8ft. tall. &amp;nbsp; People were posing with the stacked boxes, snapping Instagrams and what not. I saw one woman lean against the side of the store, her arms framing the Tiffany and Co. sign on the wall. &amp;nbsp;Her body language, her blissfully contented grin; &amp;nbsp;I just knew she was going to be uploading that photo trying to convince folks she'd jetted off to NYC for the afternoon or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. . .this nice associate named Kevin greeted me at the door. &amp;nbsp;He had this Daddy Warbucks mixed with the Secret Service vibe going on. &amp;nbsp;Bald pate, suit, tie, and the ear bud in-the-ear-coiled-wire-down-the-neck thing. &amp;nbsp;Guess they have to keep tabs on the merchandise. &amp;nbsp;I think every associate in that place had on some Tiffany jewelry of some kind. It got me to wondering if you have to buy it to work there or do they loan you some stuff while you're on the clock. &amp;nbsp;How about loaning me something like &lt;a href="http://www.tiffany.com/Engagement/Item.aspx?GroupSKU=GRP10055#f+1/0/0/0/0/0"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Kevin asks me how he could help me and I outline how I'd like my necklace shortened and my earring backs replaced. He confides that he's the shipment manager, but he'd be happy to get an associate (i.e. peon) to help me out. &amp;nbsp;He casts his eyes about, but since the place is at max capacity,&amp;nbsp;&lt;strike&gt;peons&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;associates are scrambling in every direction. &amp;nbsp;He does me the honor of helping me himself. &amp;nbsp;I also tell him that I had heard there was a&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.tiffany.com/Shopping/item.aspx?sku=19332853"&gt;camera charm&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;available. &amp;nbsp;What a nice little treat to self that would be, and would he be a dear and show it to me (I cross the threshold and suddenly I'm all Holly Golightly). &amp;nbsp;On his way to replace my earring back, he waylays an associate (let's call her Erin) who would show me where the Tiffany charms can be found. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erin turns to say hello and HOLY MOTHER OF PEARL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ol' girl has a freakin' Tom Selleck mustache hanging out of her nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not kidding you. &amp;nbsp;Nose hair. Nose hair so long, I could have braided it. &amp;nbsp;I could have braided it up into her unibrow or down into her mustache. Yes, she had ALL THAT. It was triumvirate of hair. &amp;nbsp;WHAT THE HELL?! This girl gave new meaning to the word hirsute. If that wasn't enough, when she smiled? **shudder** I think she'd been chewing butter covered rocks on her lunch break. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin promised me a swift return with my items while Erin would help me with the chain shortening and the charms. &amp;nbsp;So, I follow *NOSE HAIR* Erin to the counter where she proceeds to very ineptly try to help me. &amp;nbsp;First, she can't find the velvet covered sleeve you lay on the table to protect your jewelry. &amp;nbsp;*NOSE HAIR*&amp;nbsp;Then, she can't find her portfolio where she's supposed to record my information.&amp;nbsp;*NOSE HAIR*&amp;nbsp;I asked her to measure my chain to be sure of what I have before I start hacking off inches. &amp;nbsp;Guess what?&amp;nbsp;*NOSE HAIR*&amp;nbsp;She can't find the ruler.&amp;nbsp;When I ask her to show me a 16" and a 14" chain for comparison purposes, she brings me a link necklace that is so markedly different from what I have, I'm wondering if English is her second language. Or third.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*NOSE HAIR*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I've read articles and heard stories about how attractive people are treated better than less attractive people. &amp;nbsp;So, I did some self-checks before letting my irritation show. Truthfully, it wasn't her hairiness and poor dental hygiene that got me ticked. &amp;nbsp;She was just an ineffectual customer service provider. She didn't know where things were. She didn't know how to fill out the form. &amp;nbsp;She kept smiling and apologizing. &amp;nbsp;She was ready to walk away with my stuff and a smile before I prompted her with, "Would you like to take my information down for the repair?" To which she replied, "Oh. Yeah. Sorry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop smiling at me! Don't be sorry, be professional! Get me someone who knows what they're doing! Gah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, another associate came to her aid, but it took the two of them another 15 minutes to input the information and provide me with a receipt. &amp;nbsp;And poor Erin! Every time she came back to the counter to assure me that it would just be another minute, she flashed that "I-can't-believe-it's-not-butter" smile. &amp;nbsp;And she coughed up another half dozen or more apologies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin returned with my earrings, which he had polished to a shine so brilliant, I could see my pores in the reflection. &amp;nbsp;And talk about great customer service! When I asked what the fee was for replacing the earring back, he said, "Just come back and see us again soon." &amp;nbsp;Was he flirting? It was all I could do not to burble out an "Oh, you!" and put my hand teasingly on his arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erin, true to her word, brought the paperwork back. &amp;nbsp;She handed it to another associate, who then proceeded to outline what had been inputted and when I could expect to receive my necklace. &amp;nbsp;Erin stood behind her, nodding like a bobble-head. &amp;nbsp;Maybe it was her first day on the job. Maybe she was nervous. I know, I'm so imposing that even the most self confident of persons is rendered into a steaming pile of "uh. . .uh. . .uh . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure Erin is a very personable young lady who has a bright future at Tiffany and Co. &amp;nbsp;I'm sorry that I was so thoroughly blinded by her facial. . .situation, that I may have missed what a personable young lady she truly is. &amp;nbsp;Shame on me for passing judgement, I know. &amp;nbsp;I'm curious, though. &amp;nbsp;Have you ever made a snap decision about someone based on how they looked? Have you been less than pleasant if your server, clerk, customer service rep makes a leper look like the after picture from a Pro-Activ commercial?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-1075780342621853601?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/1075780342621853601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=1075780342621853601&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/1075780342621853601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/1075780342621853601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/09/customer-service.html' title='Customer Service'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lblHfZfzbYE/Thqk5MvoBpI/AAAAAAAAAg4/3Gz8uV_IbzI/s72-c/image.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-3937633502449767790</id><published>2011-09-14T11:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T11:19:49.251-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><title type='text'>Pumpkin</title><content type='html'>You know how &lt;a href="http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2010/09/falling-into-fall.html"&gt;I love the fall&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp;I really do &lt;a href="http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2009/11/fall-has-fallen.html"&gt;enjoy fall&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Labor Day has come and gone. &amp;nbsp;School has started. &amp;nbsp;September has effectively put the boots to summer, arriving with swollen clouds and breezes that make you think twice about sticking a cardigan into your bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coever's birthday was last Thursday and I thought that I would make a little treat for her classmates. &amp;nbsp;I'm trying to sneak a little bit of &lt;strike&gt;healthy&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;less sugary snacks into the mix. Instead of bringing in cupcakes, donut holes or popsicles (all of which were suggested by the teacher, incredibly), I opted for muffins. &amp;nbsp;My first thought was banana nut muffins with some cream cheese frosting, but that might as well be a cupcake. &amp;nbsp;Then I remembered the potential for nut allergies in the class. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What to do? What to do? I seemed to remember that I had another muffin mix of some kind tucked away in the pantry.&amp;nbsp;So, I started digging and I found this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uuI83vCHJP4/TmiaD6sWNsI/AAAAAAAABxY/lGHtsHqk_7k/s1600/DSC_0121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uuI83vCHJP4/TmiaD6sWNsI/AAAAAAAABxY/lGHtsHqk_7k/s320/DSC_0121.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trader Joe's Pumpkin Bread and Muffin Mix!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;How did I not bake this the minute I brought it home?&amp;nbsp;I got to measuring and mixing, prepping and pouring. &amp;nbsp;I lined the two muffin pans for an even 24, enough for each kid in the class. &amp;nbsp;I broke out my awesome-sauce batter dispenser and got to filling. &amp;nbsp;And then. . .there was only enough batter for 19 muffins. &amp;nbsp;C'mon, Trader Joe!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose in a way that was a saving grace. &amp;nbsp;When I flipped the box over to find out what the yield is supposed to be, I saw where it said "This product was made on equipment with&lt;b&gt; milk, whey&lt;/b&gt; and &lt;b&gt;treenuts&lt;/b&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the 19 muffins that did get made came out great. Craig and the girls will definitely attest to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qm1oXM1aCHI/TmiaCGcq1JI/AAAAAAAABxM/yu5ppl4orb0/s1600/DSC_0091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qm1oXM1aCHI/TmiaCGcq1JI/AAAAAAAABxM/yu5ppl4orb0/s320/DSC_0091.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Let me rewind for a second. &amp;nbsp;When I thought about making the muffins in the first place, I did a mental recall to see if I had enough milk, butter, eggs, or whatever to get the job done. &amp;nbsp;I was a few sticks short on butter, so I rolled over to the grocery store and what did I spy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Pumpkin Spice K Cups!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AI81qe9LM74/Tmj_tBnLDLI/AAAAAAAABxc/IMHdHviiB8o/s1600/DSC_0132-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AI81qe9LM74/Tmj_tBnLDLI/AAAAAAAABxc/IMHdHviiB8o/s320/DSC_0132-1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Shut the front door!&amp;nbsp;Now, I don't have to become a seasonal Starbucks junkie. Well, maybe just one every now and again. It's not like I can put the Keurig in my car or something. I'm just sayin'. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Temperatures are dropping. Appearances of all things pumpkin are rising. &amp;nbsp;How sweet it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-3937633502449767790?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/3937633502449767790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=3937633502449767790&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3937633502449767790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3937633502449767790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/09/pumpkin.html' title='Pumpkin'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uuI83vCHJP4/TmiaD6sWNsI/AAAAAAAABxY/lGHtsHqk_7k/s72-c/DSC_0121.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-3814876255430293621</id><published>2011-09-09T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T12:00:26.553-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my girls'/><title type='text'>Too Much Birthday?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://wwwdelivery.superstock.com/WI/223/1598/PreviewComp/SuperStock_1598R-176842.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" src="http://wwwdelivery.superstock.com/WI/223/1598/PreviewComp/SuperStock_1598R-176842.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?q=birthday+party+mess&amp;amp;num=10&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;client=safari&amp;amp;rls=en&amp;amp;biw=1188&amp;amp;bih=648&amp;amp;tbm=isch&amp;amp;tbnid=JemJ_GNehvVIvM:&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://www.superstock.com/stock-photos-images/1598R-176842&amp;amp;docid=bAeV8I2FtOnBmM&amp;amp;w=350&amp;amp;h=262&amp;amp;ei=FTJqTszSHue00AHHo838BA&amp;amp;zoom=1&amp;amp;iact=hc&amp;amp;vpx=289&amp;amp;vpy=103&amp;amp;dur=1003&amp;amp;hovh=194&amp;amp;hovw=260&amp;amp;tx=150&amp;amp;ty=60&amp;amp;sqi=2&amp;amp;page=1&amp;amp;tbnh=157&amp;amp;tbnw=209&amp;amp;start=0&amp;amp;ndsp=15&amp;amp;ved=1t:429,r:1,s:0"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;When I was a kid, my birthday was &lt;i&gt;my&lt;/i&gt; special day. No one else in the family had a September birthday. &amp;nbsp;Since it fell on, or the day after, the first day of school, my parents tried to make it very special for me. &amp;nbsp;I had a birthday party at McDonald's once (this is like 1984), I had a party at Showbiz Pizza and one at Chuck E. Cheese, naturally. &amp;nbsp;When I turned 16, my parents took me and 16 of my girlfriends to a Mongolian Bar-B-Que and then back to the house. &amp;nbsp;There was cake, ice cream and presents (my first VS bra, thanks Daphne!).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chronologically, the girls are two years apart in age. &amp;nbsp;On the calendar, however, their birthdays are a mere two weeks apart. &amp;nbsp;Throw in indulgent grandparents, excited aunties and uncles, and loving parents -- there's a whole lot of celebrating going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year just as in the years past, there have been multiple celebrations between August 23rd (Morgan) and September 8th (me and Coever). &amp;nbsp;Gone are the days of getting fêted &lt;i&gt;on&lt;/i&gt; your birthday. We're celebrating the day of, the day after, the day before your sister's and the day after that because we can't all coordinate to celebrate on the actual day. Cards and gifts come trickling in from August 20th through September 12th. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One gift has become three, five or more. &amp;nbsp;Mo wants to know what Co has. &amp;nbsp;I'm doling out cake ballz for breakfast and trying to to say "yes" instead of "no" because,&lt;i&gt; Hey, it's her birthday&lt;/i&gt;! &amp;nbsp;Co is asking for a 7 layer cake and some gold foil covered chocolate coins. &amp;nbsp;Mo is digging into a gift bag and wondering where is her makeup and some earrings. Co requests pizza for her special birthday dinner, with a side of sushi for Mo. &amp;nbsp;My phone is ringing with well-wishers and it's not even 7:15 in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of years ago, I decided that to get things under control, we're saving the big, pony-ride-bounce-house-face-painters-limo-ride type celebrations for milestone numbers like 5, 10, 16, and 21. &amp;nbsp;Morgan tried to work 18 in there, but I may still be recovering from her 16th birthday bash if I know how my daughter operates. &amp;nbsp;Her ideal party, for any occasion, think&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;MTV's My Super Sweet 16&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;minus the bratty, whiny, snotty kids. &amp;nbsp;Just big location, big to-do, big dresses (she does love a costume change). &amp;nbsp;Blessedly, I've got many a year before I even need to start &lt;i&gt;thinking&lt;/i&gt; about that. &amp;nbsp;Then, instead of "&lt;a href="http://www.google.com/search?client=safari&amp;amp;rls=en&amp;amp;q=antoine+dodson+youtube&amp;amp;ie=UTF-8&amp;amp;oe=UTF-8"&gt;Hide yo' kids&lt;/a&gt;", it'll be "Hide yo' checkbook".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will say, though, the back-to-back birthdays has been a good time. &amp;nbsp;It's nice getting the family together to celebrate our girls, who are pretty inseparable on most days that end in "y". &amp;nbsp;I really enjoy the &lt;a href="http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/08/six.html"&gt;bathing suit&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/09/four.html"&gt;dress projects&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;that I started with them. &amp;nbsp;I love to see how they've grown right before my eyes. &amp;nbsp;I hope they will get a kick out of it, too, especially when I present their respective collages and outfits to them for their 21st birthdays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;So,&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.pearlscupcakeshoppe.com/"&gt;Pearl's cupcakes&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;have been eaten. The cake ballz are but a sugar coated memory. The presents have been opened, played with, and discarded to the playroom wasteland of forgotten toys. &amp;nbsp;Birthday celebrations are complete, at least for this week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Craig turn **koff*koff* on September 29th.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/6647037438141813038-3814876255430293621?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/3814876255430293621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=3814876255430293621&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3814876255430293621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3814876255430293621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/09/too-much-birthday.html' title='Too Much Birthday?'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-413924908692784570</id><published>2011-09-08T06:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T06:15:43.640-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my girls'/><title type='text'>Four</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #eeeeee; font-family: 'Josefin Slab'; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;September 8, 2007&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;3:27am&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;7 lbs. 0 oz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;21.5 inches long&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Catherine Coever&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Coever&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Coever-Beezus&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Coever-Biscuit&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Coever B.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Catherine, my Catherine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Winge&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Winjus-Ninjus&lt;br /&gt;Snack Monster&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Angry Chicken&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I love you &lt;i&gt;t-h-i-s &amp;nbsp;(arms stretched out wide)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;much and forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;"As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Happy 4th Birthday to &lt;i&gt;my&lt;/i&gt; little birthday present.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PeOgEatLGuk/TmbJjVe3gzI/AAAAAAAABxI/4QqdSDTvP9A/s1600/DressCo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="285" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PeOgEatLGuk/TmbJjVe3gzI/AAAAAAAABxI/4QqdSDTvP9A/s400/DressCo.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: CENTER;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="-moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; border: 0px none; padding: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-413924908692784570?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/413924908692784570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=413924908692784570&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/413924908692784570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/413924908692784570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/09/four.html' title='Four'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PeOgEatLGuk/TmbJjVe3gzI/AAAAAAAABxI/4QqdSDTvP9A/s72-c/DressCo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-6226614433220359897</id><published>2011-09-07T12:19:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-07T12:20:19.517-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><title type='text'>A Request</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3658/3306151750_94bc2eaf9b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="195" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3658/3306151750_94bc2eaf9b.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Rain, rain, go away.&lt;br /&gt;Come again another day.&lt;br /&gt;I don't have any cool Hunter boots to wear, I can't find my raincoat, and my umbrella is pretty holey (and I don't mean blessed by the Pope).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-6226614433220359897?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/6226614433220359897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=6226614433220359897&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/6226614433220359897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/6226614433220359897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/09/request.html' title='A Request'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3658/3306151750_94bc2eaf9b_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-8673787527202955288</id><published>2011-09-06T12:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T12:40:03.123-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my girls'/><title type='text'>Back To School: Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It finally arrived.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;The first day of first grade for Morgan.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BHvrDgQhh2U/TmY9rHbtr2I/AAAAAAAABxA/NdWJhWY488c/s1600/med.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BHvrDgQhh2U/TmY9rHbtr2I/AAAAAAAABxA/NdWJhWY488c/s320/med.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Look at that smile! She was super excited last night, so going to bed posed a bit of a challenge. She and Coever were talking, singing, and giggling well past their bedtime. &amp;nbsp;When I went to check on them around 9:30, Coever was face down and drooling onto her Hello Kitty Pillow; Morgan was trying to shove her flashlight and Magic Tree House book under her pillow. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;"You should be asleep," I gently chided her, withdrawing the literary contraband.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;"I'm just too excited to sleep!" she said. &amp;nbsp;"I'm ready to go. Right now, I'm ready." &amp;nbsp;That's really encouraging to hear. &amp;nbsp;After all the build-up of back-to-school only to have to wait another week before it can actually start? Talk about taking the wind out of your sails. &amp;nbsp;Yet, the eve before she crosses the threshold into true grade school, Morgan has an assuredness and calm below her surface excitement that belies her six years. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I had hoped for a bright, sunny day on which to send her off, but the spatter-pattering of rain on the roof proved to be a more soothing way to get going. &amp;nbsp;There was no rushing and bustling. &amp;nbsp; Breakfast was a&amp;nbsp;lackadaisical&amp;nbsp;affair of Special K, fruit and juice.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Her backpack stood sentry at the front door.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Lunch had been made the night before. &amp;nbsp;Her back to school outfit had been carefully selected and adorned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BHvrDgQhh2U/TmY9rHbtr2I/AAAAAAAABxA/NdWJhWY488c/s1600/med.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bBwIiMt5D6I/TmY9p4jtGqI/AAAAAAAABw4/SKvbo-YypNo/s1600/med-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bBwIiMt5D6I/TmY9p4jtGqI/AAAAAAAABw4/SKvbo-YypNo/s320/med-3.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JG0VwTxb0PA/TmY9qsWSXbI/AAAAAAAABw8/TOob9n4lrVs/s1600/med-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JG0VwTxb0PA/TmY9qsWSXbI/AAAAAAAABw8/TOob9n4lrVs/s320/med-4.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Yeah, those boots are killer, and when I first showed them to her, she couldn't wait to tromp through the house in them. &amp;nbsp;The clouds and rain prevented us from snapping the first day pics outside, but it didn't sap Morgan's sunny disposition as she dropped her backpack to strike a pose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;"Yia-Yia, Pop-Pop!" she called to my parents, who are in town visiting, "Come look at my 1st grade pose!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, she's ready to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some moms I know are going to be grappling with tears and nervous tummies (their own, not their kiddos's) as they navigate carpool. &amp;nbsp;Other moms will barely bring the car to a rolling stop before kicking Jr. out to the curb ("Tuck your head! Tuck your head!"). &amp;nbsp; I'd like to think I'm going to fall somewhere in the middle of the two extremes. &amp;nbsp;I'm looking forward to mornings of uninterrupted time to work, but I'm going to miss the random hugs and kisses the girls pepper me with as they skitter from one room to the next dressed up in all manner of frills and scarves. &amp;nbsp;I'll &lt;strike&gt;enjoy&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;appreciate running errands where I only have to unbuckle myself and can use a basket, &amp;nbsp;but I'll miss the running dialogue that comes with two little imaginations at the helm of the race-car shopping cart. &amp;nbsp;The begging for fruitsnacks, ice cream, popcorn, free samples from the deli department and of course, multiple trips to the bathroom? &amp;nbsp;Not gonna miss that, but I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to think I've provided both girls with a pretty awesome summer, one that they've thoroughly enjoyed and memories of which will last them well into the school year. &amp;nbsp;I wouldn't say that the first day of school snuck up on us -- c'mon, we've been doing a countdown calendar since the &lt;i&gt;last&lt;/i&gt; day of school -- but it's hard to believe it's already here. My girls are growing up and I'm amazed at who they've become in such a short period of time. &amp;nbsp;I mean, what did I &lt;i&gt;think &lt;/i&gt;was going happen if I loved on them, nurtured them, encouraged them, and worked on making them thoughtful, independent, young ladies with strong character?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two little ladies ready for anything, including the first day of school.&lt;br /&gt;Hold on while I pat myself on the back (&lt;i&gt;kidding, kidding). (no, I'm not). (no, I'm kidding).(sort of).&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS.&amp;nbsp;If you have a chance, &lt;a href="http://www2.timesdispatch.com/lifestyles/2011/sep/04/tdflair01-in-my-shoes-kindergarten-friend-or-foe-ar-1277526/?referer=http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Ftimesdispatch.com%2Far%2F1277526%2F&amp;amp;h=HAQD4HoJSAQCC9j1EAGvyloBCL1RIsOx3DRpTCi1kH3bRIg&amp;amp;shorturl=http://bit.ly/qMrVKz"&gt;check out my friend Libby's&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;thoughts on sending her little boy off to kindergarten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-8673787527202955288?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/8673787527202955288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=8673787527202955288&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/8673787527202955288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/8673787527202955288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/09/back-to-school-part-2.html' title='Back To School: Part 2'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BHvrDgQhh2U/TmY9rHbtr2I/AAAAAAAABxA/NdWJhWY488c/s72-c/med.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-7286154482247755695</id><published>2011-09-01T19:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-01T19:18:39.155-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='working out'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='activities'/><title type='text'>Something New</title><content type='html'>I've gotten bored with running. &amp;nbsp;I came up with a pretty good circuit around the neighborhood, but now, I'm getting tired of passing the same ol' mailboxes and what not. &amp;nbsp;Don't even get me started on the Y. I mean, I really like the Zumba classes that I've been taking, but on the off days, trying to get on a treadmill is like standing in line for bread during the Depression. &amp;nbsp;I burn more calories trying to will people off the machines than I do actually moving my bod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been driving&amp;nbsp;around town&amp;nbsp;(&lt;i&gt;quelle surprise&lt;/i&gt;), and I kept passing the shopping center up the block from our house. &amp;nbsp;I noticed that one of the end units is undergoing some kind of renovation. &amp;nbsp;"Another restaurant," I mused. &amp;nbsp;On one of my runs, which takes me past said shopping center, I saw they'd hung a banner in the window: &lt;a href="http://www.richmondkettlebellclub.com/"&gt;www.richmondkettlebellclub.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmmm. . .consider my curiosity piqued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I visited the website, and after a quick read through of the various tabs. &amp;nbsp;Here's my Cliff-Noted version: Russian based physical training program involving a cannonball with a handle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://aiki.pbworks.com/f/kettlebells.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://aiki.pbworks.com/f/kettlebells.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://aiki.pbworks.com/w/page/1594498/Kettlebells"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I'm totally all over that. And yes, I know, I know, I'm tardy to the party. &amp;nbsp;But, like with my forays into Pilates, P90X and Zumba, better late than never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called them up and inquired about their free trial class, which I will be trying out this Saturday. &amp;nbsp;Sunday, I'll probably be trying out Ben-Gay and Icy-Hot in various applications. &amp;nbsp;No pain, no gain, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-7286154482247755695?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/7286154482247755695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=7286154482247755695&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/7286154482247755695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/7286154482247755695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/09/something-new.html' title='Something New'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-2236034276465925094</id><published>2011-09-01T15:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-01T15:32:45.839-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my girls'/><title type='text'>Back to School</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;It's that time of year again . . .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/c4/f9/cartoon,children,cutsie,school,days-c4f9866ddf384a17470be94ec81bc4b3_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="250" src="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/c4/f9/cartoon,children,cutsie,school,days-c4f9866ddf384a17470be94ec81bc4b3_h.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://vi.sualize.us/view/c4f9866ddf384a17470be94ec81bc4b3/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I don't know who's more excited, me or. . .no, it's me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's &lt;i&gt;totally&lt;/i&gt; me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love back to school. I always have. I love a new packet of lined paper, new workbooks. &amp;nbsp;I love a new Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper with a Sailor Moon spring-loaded pencil case and an Aladdin lunch box. &amp;nbsp;Yes, I did have all of those things, and yes, I was a high school sophomore at the time. &amp;nbsp;Ahhh, youth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past two weeks have been nothing but the express train to CrazyTown. &amp;nbsp;As the summer drew to a close, we were inundated with back-to-back Back to School preparation. &amp;nbsp;The girls will be going to different schools this year, which means, each school has had their own new family orientation, &amp;nbsp;new student orientation, new school/new buddy program orientation, and all matters of activities to get us all &lt;strike&gt;oriented&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;acclimated. &amp;nbsp;There's all this build-up and &lt;i&gt;rah-rah&lt;/i&gt; leading up to the first day of school. &amp;nbsp;The girls were literally crackling with excitement and anticipation. I was steadily crossing off calendar days until THE day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Irene happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One downed tree and 5 days without power later: &amp;nbsp;Morgan has missed her originally scheduled first day. She's on summer vacation for another week. &amp;nbsp;If I had a little sound bite of that trumpet triplet -- you know, &lt;i&gt;waa, waa, waa -- &lt;/i&gt;I'd definitely insert it here. &amp;nbsp;The silver lining here is more quality time with my first born before she is fully immersed in the rigors of first grade. &amp;nbsp;Her enthusiasm, however, is beginning to deflate like a left-over birthday balloon. &amp;nbsp; She's gone as far as to remix the They Might Be Giants Song "&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m3Kgj6EiZtw"&gt;I Never Go to Work&lt;/a&gt;" as "I Never Go to School". &amp;nbsp;Wonderful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coever, however, was washed, fed and out the door for her scheduled first day, September 1st.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-50ipttMHb6E/Tl_XPpInkAI/AAAAAAAABwc/Wua-olaA3bo/s1600/bts-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-50ipttMHb6E/Tl_XPpInkAI/AAAAAAAABwc/Wua-olaA3bo/s320/bts-12.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh yeah, that's today. I'm so giddy, I'm floating in my seat a little.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Just as in other first-day-of-school experiences we've had, she was all smiles and "Bye, Mom. Bye!" as we left her in her teacher's capable hands. &amp;nbsp;Let's hope this good cheer carries her well beyond the first day, the first week, even. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tr4CKHa-res/Tl_cAiGTyNI/AAAAAAAABwg/y0t06cYmR8E/s1600/bts-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tr4CKHa-res/Tl_cAiGTyNI/AAAAAAAABwg/y0t06cYmR8E/s320/bts-5.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Marking the occasion.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ABgaTA03gSU/Tl_cBVt_3-I/AAAAAAAABwo/EGhCnIeUBW0/s1600/bts-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ABgaTA03gSU/Tl_cBVt_3-I/AAAAAAAABwo/EGhCnIeUBW0/s320/bts-14.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Afterschool. &amp;nbsp;Still smiling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yQDd-UnMtnc/Tl_cCOQ0v2I/AAAAAAAABww/e0sQaBG2NVk/s1600/bts-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yQDd-UnMtnc/Tl_cCOQ0v2I/AAAAAAAABww/e0sQaBG2NVk/s320/bts-20.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;"Whaddya mean I gotta go back tomorrow?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-2236034276465925094?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/2236034276465925094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=2236034276465925094&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/2236034276465925094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/2236034276465925094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/09/back-to-school.html' title='Back to School'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-50ipttMHb6E/Tl_XPpInkAI/AAAAAAAABwc/Wua-olaA3bo/s72-c/bts-12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-7806835468372368376</id><published>2011-09-01T11:25:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-01T11:25:49.086-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let There Be Light</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/c5/91/bokeh,city,lights,%D8%AA%D8%A7%D8%B1,%D8%B4%D9%87%D8%B1,city,lights-c59170dee6a18996b67ccf75cff9dae1_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="207" src="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/c5/91/bokeh,city,lights,%D8%AA%D8%A7%D8%B1,%D8%B4%D9%87%D8%B1,city,lights-c59170dee6a18996b67ccf75cff9dae1_h.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://vi.sualize.us/view/c59170dee6a18996b67ccf75cff9dae1/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After five days of cold showers, grilled food, and the continuous rumble of generators, &amp;nbsp;at 8:27 pm last night, there was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Craig and I were so excited we were high-fiving like we won the Super Bowl. &amp;nbsp;Imagine, two grown folks skipping (yes, we skipped) through the house, turning on lights and flipping switches just because we wanted to see the lights comes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, little blog, how I've missed you.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Electricity, you fickle mistress, I promise never to take you for granted again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-7806835468372368376?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/7806835468372368376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=7806835468372368376&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/7806835468372368376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/7806835468372368376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/09/let-there-be-light.html' title='Let There Be Light'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-3350784056685313360</id><published>2011-08-26T10:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T10:45:02.134-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankfully Prepared</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3341/3563912840_23a0fdeccd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3341/3563912840_23a0fdeccd.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://vi.sualize.us/view/82922dcde7215eb09b36fb172abf716e/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;What a week this has been! First the earthquake, and now, Irene is steadily making her way up the east coast, threatening to wreak havoc on the shoreline, homes and the general state of&amp;nbsp;lackadaisicalness&amp;nbsp;that comes with the end of summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've lived through our share of hurricanes, no'r easters, and even previous Richmond earthquake. We watched Katrina ravage Louisiana. We watched Haiti and Japan get hammered. &amp;nbsp;We even rode out one storm on a cruise ship after (Gabriel? Gabrielle? Gaston!) decided man-handle Florida a bit, tacking on an extra day or two of us floating at sea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then, I've often said to Craig, "We should have an emergency kit," to which he agrees and then we both go about the business of doing whatever it was we were doing the moment before I opened my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my recent issue of Parents magazine last week and there was an article in it about -- you guessed it -- emergency preparedness kits. &amp;nbsp;I ripped it out, waved it under Craig's nose and said, "We need to to this!" and he agreed. &amp;nbsp;And then we both got on our laptops, him working on his Fantasy Football league, and me, trolling through Pinterest, the silence punctuated with the occasional "Oooh" from my end of the couch and a "C'mon man!" from his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the earthquake, I doubled my resolve to get the kit together and went as far as to make a list of what to put in. &amp;nbsp;Craig agreed, yet again, and we planned to start putting things together this week-end. &amp;nbsp;Irene decided to become more than just a tropical storm, subtly pressuring us to put up or shut up as far as supplies go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I went out, just like every other over-zealous storm-a-phobe and stocked up. &amp;nbsp;I don't have everything on my list -- Wal-Mart looked like it had been pillaged and burned -- but I made a sizeable dent. There's gas in the car, and let me tell you, navigating around anxious drivers on cell phones while trying to wheedle their giant Suburbans and Yukons into a grocery store gas station does not make for a fun time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got home in one piece. I unloaded the groceries, the precious batteries and waterproof matches, the propane tank, all of these things, while my stomach rumbled with hunger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of a sudden I was just struck with how fortunate I am. &amp;nbsp;I live in a place where there are weather alert systems tracking and broadcasting the path of the storm. I live in a place where I can just get in my car -- I have a car! -- and go to the store to pick up what I need to keep my family safe and well. &amp;nbsp;I have a home that's sturdy and comfortable. There is food in my fridge so that when my "tummy is so grumbly" (to quote Coever), I can just pluck out something good. I don't have to worry about where did it come from? How fresh is it? Is there enough for everyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind scrolled through the images I had seen from the news networks coverage of various storms and&amp;nbsp;tragedies&amp;nbsp;past. &amp;nbsp;I was struck at the juxtaposition of where I was -- safely ensconced in my kitchen/livingroom/far away from where it was. &amp;nbsp;Talk about an eye opener.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as people prepare to batten down their hatches for whatever may come, I'll be doing the same. &amp;nbsp;If Irene decides to slap us around a bit or totally pummel us, we're ready. &amp;nbsp;And if it happens to just be some rain storms or nothing at all, I'm not going to complain that I was ready for nothing. &amp;nbsp;What a waste of energy and why wish for a tragedy? &amp;nbsp;I've got my supplies, thankful that I was able to get them, even, but I really hope I don't have to use them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever type of weather you get, wherever you are, be safe and be thankful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-3350784056685313360?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/3350784056685313360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=3350784056685313360&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3350784056685313360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3350784056685313360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/08/thankfully-prepared.html' title='Thankfully Prepared'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3341/3563912840_23a0fdeccd_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-8281165029920565862</id><published>2011-08-23T06:19:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T06:19:23.056-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my girls'/><title type='text'>Six</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;August 23, 2005&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;12:39am&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;7 lbs. 10 oz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;21 inches long&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Morgan Elizabeth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Morgs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Morgasboard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Morg-goo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Morgan-Schmoo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Morga-lou&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Lou&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I love you to the moon and back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I love you always and forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;"As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Happy 6th birthday to my sweet-faced girl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P-m4yMAyXuk/TlMAGMx0dJI/AAAAAAAABv0/wdF1vhwK06E/s1600/Lr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P-m4yMAyXuk/TlMAGMx0dJI/AAAAAAAABv0/wdF1vhwK06E/s400/Lr.jpg" width="355" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: CENTER;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-8281165029920565862?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/8281165029920565862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=8281165029920565862&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/8281165029920565862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/8281165029920565862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/08/six.html' title='Six'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P-m4yMAyXuk/TlMAGMx0dJI/AAAAAAAABv0/wdF1vhwK06E/s72-c/Lr.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-6874700922815526818</id><published>2011-08-19T11:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-19T11:40:19.672-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Signature</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;I can't remember if it was Tim Gunn or Lloyd Boston who, when detailing the top wardrobe essentials, insisted that every woman must have a signature item of their very own. Think&amp;nbsp;&lt;strike&gt;Posh Spice&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;Victoria Beckham and her sky high stilettos. &amp;nbsp;Anna Wintour&amp;nbsp;and her iconic bob. Mariah Carey and her butterflies. &amp;nbsp;Remember when Janet Jackson wore the hoop earring with the key in it all the time? I know, I'm dating myself here, but still, it was her signature.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;In another attempt at self-improvement, I've decided to become more purposeful in my the choices that I make when it comes to things that I enjoy. I'm creatively choosing things that make me feel good about myself, that subtly leave the impression that, "Hilary was here."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;A lot of books that I've read often describe the protagonist associating a particular fragrance with an important person in their life. &amp;nbsp;My neighbor told me that her grandmother always wore Chanel No. 5 and whenever she smells it, she's instantly transported back to being six years old, watching her grandma spray her pulse points and behind her ears. &amp;nbsp;One of my favorite uncles wears Grey Flannel and I've been known to cruise through the men's fragrance aisle for quick sniff to boost my mood. &amp;nbsp;Over the years, I've tried a number of scents: Clinique: Happy, Liz Claiborne: Caylx, Anna Sui: Secret Wish, even one of Britney Spears less nausea inducing perfumes (yeah, I admit it). &amp;nbsp;Recently, I've hit upon this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://reviewperfumes.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/1.0495736119E+14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://reviewperfumes.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/1.0495736119E+14.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="223" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?q=chanel+mademoiselle+perfume&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;client=safari&amp;amp;rls=en&amp;amp;biw=1188&amp;amp;bih=648&amp;amp;tbm=isch&amp;amp;tbnid=pnskfIGetii0sM:&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://www.reviewperfumes.com/chanel/coco-mademoiselle-eau-de-toilette&amp;amp;docid=s1uEfpjYHRCz7M&amp;amp;w=300&amp;amp;h=430&amp;amp;ei=ok1OTqiSLqHz0gHD5dzcDA&amp;amp;zoom=1&amp;amp;iact=hc&amp;amp;vpx=362&amp;amp;vpy=267&amp;amp;dur=59&amp;amp;hovh=269&amp;amp;hovw=187&amp;amp;tx=107&amp;amp;ty=183&amp;amp;page=1&amp;amp;tbnh=112&amp;amp;tbnw=78&amp;amp;start=0&amp;amp;ndsp=24&amp;amp;ved=1t:429,r:10,s:0"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;It's light, but it stays with me throughout the day. &amp;nbsp;And who doesn't need a little Chanel in their life?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;When it comes to food, I've got a savory signature dish and a sweet signature dish, both of which I could probably make with my eyes closed. &amp;nbsp;For something fool-proof and delicious, my dinner dish is chicken piccata with capers served with garlic vermicelli and roasted broccoli.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img4.myrecipes.com/i/recipes/ck/06/09/chicken-caper-ck-1227898-x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://img4.myrecipes.com/i/recipes/ck/06/09/chicken-caper-ck-1227898-x.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myrecipes.com/recipe/chicken-piccata-with-capers-10000001227898/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;I love to whip this out when my parents come to visit or if we're having guests over for the first time. It looks complicated, tastes great, and there is never any leftovers.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;And of course, a great meal deserves a great dessert. &amp;nbsp;As my Rockbridge neighbors and others in the circle of the trust know, it's all about the cake ballz! Yes, with a "Z", 'cause that's how I roll.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bakerella.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/cakeballs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://www.bakerella.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/cakeballs.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?q=cake+balls&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;client=safari&amp;amp;sa=N&amp;amp;rls=en&amp;amp;biw=1188&amp;amp;bih=648&amp;amp;tbm=isch&amp;amp;tbnid=chehROVqqlCdaM:&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://www.bakerella.com/category/pops-bites/cake-balls/&amp;amp;docid=wOUZkNCLOqsyVM&amp;amp;w=480&amp;amp;h=320&amp;amp;ei=SUxOTqWjE5S50AGHyIjtBg&amp;amp;zoom=1&amp;amp;iact=hc&amp;amp;vpx=145&amp;amp;vpy=142&amp;amp;dur=751&amp;amp;hovh=183&amp;amp;hovw=275&amp;amp;tx=145&amp;amp;ty=51&amp;amp;page=1&amp;amp;tbnh=153&amp;amp;tbnw=196&amp;amp;start=0&amp;amp;ndsp=14&amp;amp;ved=1t:429,r:0,s:0"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Mine, sadly, have not a spherical as this, but I think their more lumpy, nugget like appearance is way more charming. &amp;nbsp; I'm only looking at it long enough to say, "Ooohh, cake ballz," and then it disappears, anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;When it comes to accessories, I usually like the way they look on other people. &amp;nbsp;The ropes of pearls and beads, the sleeves of bangles, the carefully placed hair clips? I find them all very cute, but when I try them out - -not all at once -- the effect is more reminiscent of me playing in my grandma's overstuffed closets. &amp;nbsp;This summer, as I rotated through my uniform of layered tanks and skirts, I kept thinking that my outfits were missing something. &amp;nbsp;My other necklaces felt too clunky or just "not right". &amp;nbsp;A friend of mine came over wearing her own initial around her neck, and I had an "aha!" moment. &amp;nbsp;I have one of those! Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so Karen Sue, consider yourself flattered. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xja8eJCWr8s/Tk59KVPziLI/AAAAAAAABvc/lCKs4fewdsk/s1600/DSC_0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xja8eJCWr8s/Tk59KVPziLI/AAAAAAAABvc/lCKs4fewdsk/s320/DSC_0006.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feteography.com/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Fastening the "H" necklace makes me feel finished, &amp;nbsp;like what my English professor described as "the box clicking shut"when you come to the end of strong piece of writing. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;So, how do you leave your mark in the world, be it the kitchen, the workplace, the bedroom (yes,&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.sexandthesouthernbelle.com/"&gt;Mocha Peach&lt;/a&gt;, I'm looking at you!)? However you it, I hope it's with a flourish.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&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/6647037438141813038-6874700922815526818?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/6874700922815526818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=6874700922815526818&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/6874700922815526818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/6874700922815526818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/08/signature.html' title='Signature'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xja8eJCWr8s/Tk59KVPziLI/AAAAAAAABvc/lCKs4fewdsk/s72-c/DSC_0006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-4245608655111835296</id><published>2011-08-15T12:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-15T12:25:50.677-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dress-up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my girls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='princesses'/><title type='text'>Who's the Fairest?</title><content type='html'>For as much as I want to stick pins in my eyes at another toy, game, movie, person, place or thing involving princesses and dress up (I believe you would call my condition "overload"), I couldn't resist these two charmers the other day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vaAtoRoGUjI/TklFtlkduCI/AAAAAAAABvE/Yi7VmVtF7LI/s1600/DSC_0088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vaAtoRoGUjI/TklFtlkduCI/AAAAAAAABvE/Yi7VmVtF7LI/s320/DSC_0088.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RAG4u1Rch5o/TklFvfYgDiI/AAAAAAAABvM/lIrSxNwcrh4/s1600/DSC_0090.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RAG4u1Rch5o/TklFvfYgDiI/AAAAAAAABvM/lIrSxNwcrh4/s320/DSC_0090.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Enough with the pictures. It's time to play.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eKEDq_AnAhM/TklFxWRNDZI/AAAAAAAABvU/IPcQNChj04Q/s1600/DSC_0101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eKEDq_AnAhM/TklFxWRNDZI/AAAAAAAABvU/IPcQNChj04Q/s320/DSC_0101.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;And yes, that is a Batman cape Morgan is rocking. &amp;nbsp;A crime fighting princess? I can get with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZfcUeLBm_jA/TklFyAQqgMI/AAAAAAAABvY/o3U7MyvR_BA/s1600/DSC_0103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZfcUeLBm_jA/TklFyAQqgMI/AAAAAAAABvY/o3U7MyvR_BA/s320/DSC_0103.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&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/6647037438141813038-4245608655111835296?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/4245608655111835296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=4245608655111835296&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/4245608655111835296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/4245608655111835296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/08/whos-fairest.html' title='Who&apos;s the Fairest?'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vaAtoRoGUjI/TklFtlkduCI/AAAAAAAABvE/Yi7VmVtF7LI/s72-c/DSC_0088.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-5232566989411341140</id><published>2011-08-15T11:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-15T11:40:17.722-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='projects'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crafts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><title type='text'>Keys of Life</title><content type='html'>So, you know how I've put myself on an indefinite leave of absence from Pinterest, right? I was pinning more than I was doing, despite my overwhelming desire to make my home look like any of the pinboards that have "dream home", "my house", "house crush", and "home decor" as a title. &amp;nbsp;I still have a tab live in my browser, but I hold firm and just let the parenthetical tracker of pins tick right on along. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did, however, get off my duff long enough to snap some photos of my shadowbox and key hook combo that I rigged up. &amp;nbsp;Inspiration came from a post on &lt;a href="http://www.younghouselove.com/2010/07/wedding-week-iii-love-the-perfect-accessory/"&gt;Young House Love&lt;/a&gt; and the hooks came from &lt;a href="http://www.adodsons.com/"&gt;A.Dodsons&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;before we left Norfolk. &amp;nbsp;There were a few false starts, namely how to MacGvyer a nice background onto the shadowbox, without compromising the effect of the keys. I wanted something to complement the butternut squash color we've got on the walls in the kitchen. Finding a crisp, granny smith apple green shade of cardstock wasn't hard to do. It was the measuring and cutting that had me feeling like I was in some kind of architectural design class. &amp;nbsp;I needed a drafting board, box cutter and a compass to get it to the right dimensions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another fun part? Getting the keys to adhere. &amp;nbsp;I tried push pins, glue dots, Liquid Nails, Gorilla Glue, and a scrapbooking tape runner. &amp;nbsp;The pins were too obvious. &amp;nbsp;Glue dots just didn't have the strength to bear the weight of the keys. &amp;nbsp;Liquid Nails was too messy and bled through the paper. &amp;nbsp;Gorilla Glue? Well, let's say the bottle had crusted shut and when I pried the top off, the glue was adhered to the sides of the bottle. Seriously, like someone straight out of a John Hughes movie, I peered into the viscous opening and then (dummy) gave the bottle a hefty squeeze. &amp;nbsp;Jets of glue shot up into the air and landed on the counter, the walls, the floor. &amp;nbsp;Thankfully, my eyes and other facial orifices were spared, but the laundry room has had a decidedly sticky quality going on the last few day. &amp;nbsp;In any event, would you believe it's the tape runner that's worked the best? &amp;nbsp;There have been a few times since it's been completed that we've heard a little "plink" as a key catapults itself off the backing and into the bottom of the box, so I'm going to give it one more coat. &amp;nbsp;Or just put a piece of duct tape over it. &amp;nbsp;Whatever works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My handwriting is passable, but when faced with unlined paper, my words tend to drift up towards the sky. &amp;nbsp;I had been tempted to print out the addresses on label, cut them out, and adhere them with glue dots to the backing, but I realized, my less than perfect penmanship adds a subtle charm to this whole project. &amp;nbsp;Plus, the girls were biting at my ankles demanding snack, so clearly I had come to the end of my allotted crafting time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the constant tacky tread on the laundry room floor, despite the remnants of glue dot backing peppering my work area, and despite my first grade printing (or maybe because of it), &amp;nbsp;when I see what I've created, I never fail to smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q-vY1csMifo/Tkk8smfnPrI/AAAAAAAABu0/19okHXqb16M/s1600/DSC_0327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q-vY1csMifo/Tkk8smfnPrI/AAAAAAAABu0/19okHXqb16M/s320/DSC_0327.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-korc4DxoZ6I/Tkk8uLGGWRI/AAAAAAAABu8/M6pWxI_h7F4/s1600/DSC_0333.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-korc4DxoZ6I/Tkk8uLGGWRI/AAAAAAAABu8/M6pWxI_h7F4/s320/DSC_0333.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Amf-Qxb1Y7A/Tkk8uv_QNrI/AAAAAAAABvA/Gt2MOqRTEDc/s1600/DSC_0334.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Amf-Qxb1Y7A/Tkk8uv_QNrI/AAAAAAAABvA/Gt2MOqRTEDc/s320/DSC_0334.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-5232566989411341140?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/5232566989411341140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=5232566989411341140&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5232566989411341140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/5232566989411341140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/08/keys-of-life.html' title='Keys of Life'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q-vY1csMifo/Tkk8smfnPrI/AAAAAAAABu0/19okHXqb16M/s72-c/DSC_0327.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-3591907934516799248</id><published>2011-08-10T19:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T19:59:59.123-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny stuff'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Dreams Really Do Come True</title><content type='html'>A few months ago, Claire over at &lt;a href="http://www.gibsonking.blogspot.com/"&gt;GibsonKing&lt;/a&gt; wrote a post about &lt;a href="http://gibsonking.blogspot.com/2011/05/chocolove-xoxox.html"&gt;chocolate&lt;/a&gt;. &amp;nbsp;Mmmm, chocolate. &amp;nbsp;I followed the crumbs through the posts and was introduced to a particularly mmm-inducing chocolate: Dark Chocolate and Sea Salt by Lindt. &amp;nbsp;It's so good, I ran all the way to Chesapeake, rang my parents doorbell and slapped my mother in the face when she answered. &amp;nbsp;Then I shoved a piece of chocolate in her mouth and ran back to Richmond. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really that good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or at least, I thought I had met my chocolate match until I was at the Fresh Market the other day. I had a list, but you know how it goes. You're in the store, feeling kind of hungry, getting cranky about tossing bunches of veggies and sacks of fruit in your cart. &amp;nbsp;You look at the rows of cut meat, the piles of fresh fish and think, "If Martha can, why can't I?" &amp;nbsp;and then you remember why and turn down the prepared foods aisle. &amp;nbsp;But I digress. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was making the rounds in the store, scooting by the bulk nuts and candy aisle when I realized that I hadn't had any chocolate in a while. &amp;nbsp;I had eaten through my last bar of Lindt two weeks prior. &amp;nbsp;Lord knows I like a little taste of sweet after dinner and two squares was enough to keep my most ferocious cravings at bay. . . at least until morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I wheel on up to the display of fine chocolates and what do my eyes rest upon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cardullos.com/images/generate/600/0/VosgesDark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.cardullos.com/images/generate/600/0/VosgesDark.jpg" width="259" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.vosgeschocolate.com/product/mos_dark_chocolate_bacon_bar/exotic_candy_bars"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Holy Mother of Pearl and Shut the Front Door.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Chocolate. Bacon. I had no idea this combination had been missing from my life until I actually held it in my hands. &amp;nbsp;Seriously, I was so blown, I took a picture of it with my phone and posted it to Facebook. &amp;nbsp;Yes, I have become one of those people. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Blessedly, this particular bar did not disappoint, and when I returned home from the slap fest down in Chesapeake, I graciously shared some if with Craig. He wasn't nearly as taken, but it's all good. &amp;nbsp;So much more for me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-3591907934516799248?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/3591907934516799248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=3591907934516799248&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3591907934516799248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3591907934516799248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/08/dreams-really-do-come-true.html' title='Dreams Really Do Come True'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-2860748979680493410</id><published>2011-08-10T19:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T19:40:12.230-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my girls'/><title type='text'>Like Pulling Teeth</title><content type='html'>So, Morgan lost her first tooth last week. &amp;nbsp;As luck would have it, the little tooth next door is planning to make its exit any day now. &amp;nbsp;At first, the second wiggler didn't look like it had any wishes to vacate the premises as it was holding firmly to the gums. &amp;nbsp;A few days later, however, things looked decidedly different. I wouldn't say it was hanging by a thread, but I kept seeing it swirl away down the bathroom sink after a vigorus brushing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morgan has been doing tree climbing camp this week with &lt;a href="http://www.riversideoutfitters.net/ROCamps.html"&gt;Riverside Outfitters&lt;/a&gt;. &amp;nbsp;Over the last few days, she's been outside, climbing, identifying trees, zip lining and tomorrow, they're going kayaking in the James River. &amp;nbsp;How cool, right? As a precaution, I packed a little Ziploc baggie with her name on it in case the aforementioned tooth decides, "Hey, this particular copse of deciduous trees is an ideal spot for me take my leave," &amp;nbsp;(insert groan here). &amp;nbsp;Thankfully, when I picked her up today, she still had her tooth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon, Morgan was feeling particularly adventurous and was more than willing to let me try my hand at plucking out the tooth. I am SO excited that she is losing teeth. I made a special trip to the bank and got some Sacajawea dollars to leave instead of just some ol' dog-eared G.W.'s. &amp;nbsp;I think this is another way in which she is growing up, something so obvious and visual. &amp;nbsp;I mean, seeing her learn to read, learn to swim, posing questions like, "What are sanitary napkins and why shouldn't I flush them down the toilet" when we are in a public bathroom -- I mean, those are fleeting instances. &amp;nbsp;The loss of teeth and the resulting gap, the absence of something from infancy making way for something of her adulthood; it is just so poignant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another mother and I were talking the other day about the whole Tooth Fairy racket and so on. &amp;nbsp;This mother went on to say how she was afraid her daughter, whose tooth was dangling by a thread, would swallow the tooth in her sleep. &amp;nbsp;She didn't want to scare her little girl by saying as much and so she suggested that they work together to extract the tooth before the girl went to sleep. &amp;nbsp;Basically, she reached in, gave it a yank and *poink!* (or some other sound effect), out it came. &amp;nbsp;The major take away for me from that story, though, was how the mother said, repeatedly, "I had to earn her trust." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we take for granted that our kids trust us. &amp;nbsp;Of course they do," we think, "We're their parents!" &amp;nbsp;But again, I think about how the loss of teeth, the growing up that comes with it, also reminds us that our kids are growing up more than just physically, right before our eyes. &amp;nbsp;We're asking them to trust us with their minds, bodies, spirits. &amp;nbsp;The total package is just as precious as when it was first delivered into our waiting arms as it is now. I think we owe it to our kids to ask them to trust us, not just assume that &amp;nbsp;they blindly will and do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, tonight at dinner, just as I've done at every meal, I asked Morgan about her tooth. "Tooth-watch" we've been calling it. &amp;nbsp;"Still there," she tells me, giving it a jiggle. &amp;nbsp;"You just have to be patient, Mommy." &amp;nbsp;Talk about the student becoming the teacher. &amp;nbsp; And since I'm not impatient and more giddy about the Tooth Fairy coming, giddy still to see my Morga-lou grow up right in front of my eyes, I offer to tie a piece of string to the tooth and the other end to a doorknob and see where that gets us. &amp;nbsp;But first, I preface the whole thing with, "If you trust me. . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suffice it to say, after several valiant attempts, the tooth is still firmly in her mouth. &amp;nbsp;Not for lack of trying. &amp;nbsp;Morgan dutifully allowed me to tie, re-tie, tie again, and give it another tie until I couldn't take it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I WANT THAT TOOTH OUT!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xJsYuGEFbIw/TW7k4iutscI/AAAAAAAAEuI/GXaY-f7ewLE/tooth_fairy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="250" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xJsYuGEFbIw/TW7k4iutscI/AAAAAAAAEuI/GXaY-f7ewLE/tooth_fairy.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?q=tie+tooth+to+doorknob&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;client=safari&amp;amp;rls=en&amp;amp;biw=989&amp;amp;bih=540&amp;amp;tbm=isch&amp;amp;tbnid=WeDVugYRxgdNTM:&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://beneaththerowantree.blogspot.com/2011/03/milestones-losing-tooth-tooth-fairy.html&amp;amp;docid=iK53JKzkguvQhM&amp;amp;w=440&amp;amp;h=345&amp;amp;ei=QBZDTrj5D83OgAfNjeWgCQ&amp;amp;zoom=1&amp;amp;iact=hc&amp;amp;vpx=289&amp;amp;vpy=230&amp;amp;dur=53&amp;amp;hovh=238&amp;amp;hovw=304&amp;amp;tx=121&amp;amp;ty=124&amp;amp;page=1&amp;amp;tbnh=112&amp;amp;tbnw=143&amp;amp;start=0&amp;amp;ndsp=15&amp;amp;ved=1t:429,r:6,s:0"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Don't think I didn't consider this method. . .&lt;/div&gt;But patience is a virtue and trust is more easily lost than gained, so we tossed away the thread and had some ice cream sandwiches. I was secretly hoping she'd bite down hard and that tooth would come flying out. &amp;nbsp;Or maybe, while she was brushing her teeth before bed, I'd hear a surprised shriek and the pounding of footsteps on the stairs, "It's out! It's out!" Alas, they're just up there screeching and running around naked like extras from "&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lord-Flies-Anniversary-William-Golding/dp/0399529209/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1313018827&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;Lord of the Flies&lt;/a&gt;". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These Sacajawea dollars are burning a hole in my pocket!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how Morgan would feel about corn-on-the-cob for breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-2860748979680493410?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/2860748979680493410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=2860748979680493410&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/2860748979680493410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/2860748979680493410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/08/like-pulling-teeth.html' title='Like Pulling Teeth'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xJsYuGEFbIw/TW7k4iutscI/AAAAAAAAEuI/GXaY-f7ewLE/s72-c/tooth_fairy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-6106407929355338128</id><published>2011-08-08T21:40:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T21:42:05.497-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><title type='text'>Take 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xy6A40B1ZFA/TkCPSeOMKaI/AAAAAAAABuw/8HxEn5a0Xvg/s1600/a_woman_asleep_in_a_hammock_09li0071cl.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="223" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xy6A40B1ZFA/TkCPSeOMKaI/AAAAAAAABuw/8HxEn5a0Xvg/s320/a_woman_asleep_in_a_hammock_09li0071cl.jpeg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.visualphotos.com/image/2x4365014/a_woman_asleep_in_a_hammock"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I haven't been around in a few days. &amp;nbsp;Not only have I been neglecting my own blog, I've skipped out on my favorite bloggers, too. I'm going to have some serious catching up to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What it comes down to is that &amp;nbsp;I have been playing taxi service to two very scheduled little girls. &amp;nbsp;To and from camp, to the pool, to the grocery store, to the Y, back to the grocery store, to the library and all points in between has left my literal and figurative gas tank drained. &amp;nbsp;I'm slightly cross eyed writing this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, a little respite is in my future. It may not include a poolside hammock and a good book, but so long as I don't have to get behind the wheel and navigate drop-off and pick-up lanes, I'll be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-6106407929355338128?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/6106407929355338128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=6106407929355338128&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/6106407929355338128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/6106407929355338128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/08/source-i-know-i-havent-been-around-in.html' title='Take 5'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xy6A40B1ZFA/TkCPSeOMKaI/AAAAAAAABuw/8HxEn5a0Xvg/s72-c/a_woman_asleep_in_a_hammock_09li0071cl.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-7615460916989803084</id><published>2011-08-03T21:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T21:06:34.484-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='-'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><title type='text'>Odds and Ends</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.paintinghere.com/UploadPic/Rene%20Magritte-/big/The%20Son%20of%20Man.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.paintinghere.com/UploadPic/Rene%20Magritte-/big/The%20Son%20of%20Man.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?q=magritte+son+of+man&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;client=safari&amp;amp;rls=en&amp;amp;biw=1188&amp;amp;bih=648&amp;amp;tbm=isch&amp;amp;tbnid=4vn81XNq2NC0lM:&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://www.paintinghere.com/painting/The_Son_of_Man_5289.html&amp;amp;docid=JA-e87veIiUiBM&amp;amp;w=450&amp;amp;h=600&amp;amp;ei=Ne05Tp23G8fbgQfXm7XPBg&amp;amp;zoom=1&amp;amp;iact=hc&amp;amp;vpx=144&amp;amp;vpy=103&amp;amp;dur=666&amp;amp;hovh=259&amp;amp;hovw=194&amp;amp;tx=105&amp;amp;ty=138&amp;amp;page=1&amp;amp;tbnh=151&amp;amp;tbnw=113&amp;amp;start=0&amp;amp;ndsp=20&amp;amp;ved=1t:429,r:0,s:0"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our kitchen has been painted a color called "Apple Crisp", which is a cross between a rich orange and smooth brown. It sounds hideous, I know, but it's really quite stunning. &amp;nbsp;I found a shadow box in a complementary frame that has two rows of 4 granny smith apples in it. Against the wall, it's just stunning. The apples make me think of Magritte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;I have been reaching deep into the recesses of my how-to bag of tricks as we get settled into our new digs. &amp;nbsp;We've re-painted and re-organized. &amp;nbsp;Craig and I have tag teamed the bathrooms, switching out hardware, hinges, and the like. &amp;nbsp;I even upgraded my relationship with the regular ol' Philips and flat head screwdrivers to a borderline obsessive one with the Black and Decker cordless drill. &amp;nbsp;I'm all about the screwing and the drilling. &amp;nbsp;As in home repairs, HOME REPAIRS, you filthy folks!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a house to decorate has me trolling all kinds of DIY blogs for inspiration. I'm trying to repurpose as much as I can instead of calling Pottery Barn and having them send the entire fall catalog, next day air. &amp;nbsp;Monograms have caught my eye and I'm thinking of doing&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://decorandthedog.blogspot.com/2011/08/washer-monogram.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;to include in a collection of images over our bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of trolling on DIY blogs, I really think I need a "pintervention". &amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.pinterest.com/"&gt;This site &lt;/a&gt;is ridiculously addictive. No matter how much I try to dress it up under the guise of "research for home projects", it's the biggest time suck since FaceBook. &amp;nbsp;*le sigh* I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I haven't totally jumped on the &lt;a href="http://www.younghouselove.com/2011/07/another-unsuccessful-attempt-to-keep-it-cool/"&gt;Pinterest Challenge &lt;/a&gt;bandwagon, I have tried &lt;a href="http://www.younghouselove.com/2010/07/wedding-week-iii-love-the-perfect-accessory/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. &amp;nbsp;It came out really well. I found a frame similar to the shadow box with the apples and mounted my keys on an apple green mat. &amp;nbsp;I hung it on the wall and below it, I hung up these typeset letter hooks that spell out our last name. &amp;nbsp;I scored those from &lt;a href="http://www.adodsons.com/"&gt;A. Dodso&lt;/a&gt;n before we left Norfolk. &amp;nbsp;The whole thing makes me feel very accomplished and somewhat design savvy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this creativity leaves me hungry, so when I've gotten the munchies lately, I've been trying to reach for something a little better for me. &amp;nbsp;I tried &lt;a href="http://www.kashi.com/products/tlc_fruit_grain_bars_pumpkin_pecan"&gt;these bars&lt;/a&gt; on a whim and my mouth has been thanking me ever since! It's like a preview of fall with every bite. And you know how I love fall!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;It's been so hot and the plants have been suffering. I switched my routine from watering when I remember (oops) to watering first thing in the morning. In the afternoons, though, the soil is kind of dusty, like elephant knees. &amp;nbsp;I don't want to overwater the plants, but I fear they'll crumble after they survived the move and the re-potting. &amp;nbsp;I flipped open my Real Simple and ta-da! &amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://picklesandpersimmons.tumblr.com/post/8110392891/real-simple-ice-advice"&gt;Ice cubes&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;as a soil soaker.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;All of doors in the interior of the house are equipped with locks. You know, it ensures privacy and also that the girls will get into some kind of high squealing foolishness thwarting my ability to stop them. &amp;nbsp;Somehow or another the girls locked themselves &lt;i&gt;out&lt;/i&gt; of their room. &amp;nbsp;They were playing so nicely on the landing for a good half an hour before it occurred to me to just ask them what they were doing out there.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;"We're locked out," Morgan said, simply enough. &amp;nbsp;I jiggled the handle and yep, it was stuck fast. Thinking quickly, I got out the drill piece from my new best friend, the Black and Decker Cordless Drill. &amp;nbsp;I chose the thinnest bit I could find, popped it in the lock and with a few well placed wiggles -- *click* -- open sesame. &amp;nbsp;I have to admit, I felt really cool having jimmied open the lock in like two seconds. &amp;nbsp;The girls were duly impressed, too, which is very cool. &amp;nbsp;I love looking like a superhero in their eyes.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-7615460916989803084?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/7615460916989803084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=7615460916989803084&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/7615460916989803084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/7615460916989803084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/08/odds-and-ends.html' title='Odds and Ends'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-596302495192283682</id><published>2011-07-31T19:50:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T19:40:27.786-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my girls'/><title type='text'>You Can't Handle the Tooth</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Last week, the girls were visiting their grands. &amp;nbsp;The second day of their visit, we checked in and Morgan announced, "And guess what &amp;nbsp;I have a loose tooth?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I send my baby away with a full set of firmly secured chompers. Two days and one state line later, they've come unmoored!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I suppose it is about time, though I am kind of surprised. Maybe two months ago, Morgan had complained that her teeth had been hurting her. &amp;nbsp;This went on few a few days until I thought, "Maybe she has a cavity!" I whisked her to the dentist, the ironically named, Dr. Morgan (seriously). &amp;nbsp;Dr. Morgan checked out my Morgan and attributed the oral distress to growing pains. &amp;nbsp;Basically, her adult teeth were making their presence known, but weren't quite ready to evict the baby tooth squatters.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;"It's going to be some time before they get wiggly," Dr. Morgan said in parting. &amp;nbsp;"Probably nothing until the fall or winter." &amp;nbsp;I made a mental note to myself and them promptly moved on to the next thing that needed my attention.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The kids in kindergarten had teeth falling out like they'd been knocked in the mouth with a hammer&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;à&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;la Tom and Jerry. &amp;nbsp;It seemed like everyday Morgan came home with a story of how someone had a wiggly tooth or their tooth fell out in class. &amp;nbsp;Morgan was desperate to join the ranks, but her teeth remained staunchly in place. &amp;nbsp;Her classmates were turning six, some even seven, in rapid succession while Morgan remained 5.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I told her that kids grow at different speeds, just like kids have different birthdays. &amp;nbsp;We talked about different people grow older at different times, hitting development milestones at different times. She asked me if that's why I wore a bra and had hair in places other than my head, but I delicately redirected the conversation back to teeth. She understood, but wasn't happy about it. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;But back to our original conversation. &amp;nbsp;It wasn't until after I hung up the phone that I thought to remind her that the Tooth Fairy only comes to the house where you live, not where you lose the tooth! I know, that's so bad, but I really wanted to share this experience with her. &amp;nbsp;I remember what it was like to lose a tooth. I had a special, heart shaped pillow with the words "For the Tooth Fairy" embroidered on it. &amp;nbsp;There was a small pocket in which to slip the tooth in exchange for monetary gains, usually nothing more than a quarter or so. &amp;nbsp;I don't know what happened to that pillow, but I had seen this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://officeofthetoothfairy.com/images/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="160" src="http://officeofthetoothfairy.com/images/images.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://officeofthetoothfairy.com/"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;It's an official Tooth Fairy Kit! What the what?! How awesome is that? It comes with a letterpress Certificate of Record for filing with your local Tooth Fairy and sweet cloth deposit bag for your teeth! I had planned to get one for Morgan when her tooth was loose, but after our conversation, I all but had one FedExed to the house. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I was surprised enough when she told me her tooth was loose. &amp;nbsp;Imagine my surprise when we picked her up and learned she actually has &lt;i&gt;two&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;loose teeth! They're right next to each other and I guess her tongue couldn't tell the difference.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;For all her talk about wanting to loose teeth, however, Morgan does not want any assistance with having them come out. She prefers &lt;i&gt;au naturale&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;I guess, and would rather wait for them to jump out on their own rather than have me apply my ministrations involving thread and doorknobs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Morgan already knows that it's the parents that supply the funds for the tooth. &amp;nbsp;That information came courtesy of kindergarten, as well as the truth about Santa and the Easter Bunny. &amp;nbsp; I'm hoping she's hung on to a particle of that childhood innocence and has a scrap of doubt about the veracity of what she's heard. &amp;nbsp;Wouldn't it be nice to think there's some magic left? &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Whether the teeth fall out or are "coaxed"&amp;nbsp;out,&amp;nbsp;I should probably Google what the going rate on baby teeth is these days. I have a feeling, there's been significant inflation over the years. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-596302495192283682?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/596302495192283682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=596302495192283682&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/596302495192283682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/596302495192283682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/07/you-cant-handle-tooth.html' title='You Can&apos;t Handle the Tooth'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-3628123276993605534</id><published>2011-07-28T19:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-28T19:23:41.567-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='honesty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>30 Minutes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.making-jewelry-now.com/images/vintage-clock-250x166.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://www.making-jewelry-now.com/images/vintage-clock-250x166.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.making-jewelry-now.com/vintage-items-for-jewelry-making.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Half an hour.&lt;br /&gt;30 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;1800 seconds.&lt;br /&gt;It seems that everything I do happens in increments that do not exceed this length.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time it takes to get ready for swimming lessons after breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;Length of swimming lessons.&lt;br /&gt;How long we have between the end of swimming lessons and the start of story time at the library.&lt;br /&gt;Story time at the library lasts how long.&lt;br /&gt;How long it takes to make, eat and clean up lunch.&lt;br /&gt;Length of one episode of Olivia on Nick Jr. (also known as Mommy's Quiet Time)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet, how long has it taken me to write this short, simple post?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About three times as long as it takes me to do everything else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-3628123276993605534?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/3628123276993605534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=3628123276993605534&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3628123276993605534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/3628123276993605534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/07/30.html' title='30 Minutes'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-4825890108010676334</id><published>2011-07-26T19:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-26T19:37:23.262-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><title type='text'>Feeling Boxed In</title><content type='html'>Moving really forces you to take inventory of all of the things you own and decide really and truly which things matter most. At first, everything is significant. Every scrap of paper scribbled by a toddler hand. &amp;nbsp;A vase from a floral arrangement five years past gets wrapped in bubble wrap. That magazine with the scallop and bacon recipe you plan to try gets saved, that {insert ill fitting piece of clothing} you vow to fit into once again, even the boots that are too small for your feet -- but hey! you never know -- goes into a carefully taped, clearly marked box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, it gets to be the night before the move and all hell breaks loose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You take the shovel out of the shed and just start scooping junk into boxes, taping them with scotch tape and writing "misc." in a broken crayon across the top. &amp;nbsp;Garlic powder, yesterday's gym clothes, two cereal boxes, a half torn permission slip from last fall, and a canister of Clorox wipes in one box. Swiffer pads, the Keurig, the telephone, taco seasoning and two boxes of tampons go into another. In the end, stuff has multiplied despite your vain attempts to either box it or trash it. &amp;nbsp;Stuff is everywhere and stuff is no where you'd expect it to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've successfully moved in, though. &amp;nbsp;Of course, &amp;nbsp;if you define success by putting all the randomly labeled, who-the-hell-knows-what's-in-here boxes on the uppermost floors and out of sight, then yes, we have achieved it in spades. &amp;nbsp; I had a dream, that one day, as a veteran of moving, I'd conquer the last minute chaos and discover the orderliness that comes a well-thought out move. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up and discovered the children had wrapped themselves in packing tape because they were playing "Curse of the Egyptian Mummy". &amp;nbsp;While they'd had the foresight to leave their noses and eyes uncovered, they had forgotten to tape up their mouths. "Just like really mummies," I said, wrapping it around their lips. . . but I digress. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the business of the boxes and boxes. &amp;nbsp;It's been three weeks since the move and all of the more carefully labeled boxes have been unpacked. Our dishes are out. Our clothes are put away. &amp;nbsp;The cable is in. &amp;nbsp;Yet, boxes remain and I'm breaking out in hives over it. &amp;nbsp;I can't find anything! I don't even know what I'm looking for! &amp;nbsp;I've got a large tote bag with a very primitive filing system in place so that I can keep all the medical records, summer enrichment enrollment forms, photography contracts, and the latest issue of Real Simple at my fingertips. &amp;nbsp;This ain't going to work much longer. &amp;nbsp;We have an office, one of the boons of this new house, however, it looks like that warehouse scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://0.gvt0.com/vi/q6-rQ6Jay6w/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/q6-rQ6Jay6w&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/q6-rQ6Jay6w&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's exactly like that, especially when I ask Craig who's going to shift all those boxes around. &amp;nbsp;I need boxes out and office furniture in. &amp;nbsp;I need some organization! &amp;nbsp;I aspire to that state of bliss I get when I look at images like this,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://images.marthastewart.com/images/content/pub/ms_living/2010Q2//mld105713_0510_homeoffice2_xl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://images.marthastewart.com/images/content/pub/ms_living/2010Q2//mld105713_0510_homeoffice2_xl.jpg" width="256" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/photogallery/superneutral-decorating-ideas#slide_9"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and this. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.homeofficereviews.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/Home-Office-Interior-Design-Ideas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="250" src="http://www.homeofficereviews.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/Home-Office-Interior-Design-Ideas.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.homeofficereviews.net/2011/05/08/home-office-interior-design-ideas/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(source)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;and this. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://images.marthastewart.com/images/content/pub/ms_living/2008Q2//mla103724_0408_shared01_xl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://images.marthastewart.com/images/content/pub/ms_living/2008Q2//mla103724_0408_shared01_xl.jpg" width="256" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/photogallery/desk-ideas#slide_5"&gt;(source)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I&amp;nbsp;keep thinking, if I just get 1) a desk, 2) an empty room in which to put it and 3) some really cute desktop accessories to go with, &amp;nbsp;I will achieve it.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Success! Independent wealth! A personal chef!&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martha_Stewart_Living_Omnimedia"&gt; Omnimedia&lt;/a&gt;! 20-20 vision!&amp;nbsp;They will all be mine! {insert evil laugh here}.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-4825890108010676334?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/4825890108010676334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=4825890108010676334&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/4825890108010676334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/4825890108010676334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/07/feeling-boxed-in.html' title='Feeling Boxed In'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-390599456645926431</id><published>2011-07-25T21:58:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T21:59:07.342-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Popsicles</title><content type='html'>A visit to the nation's capital.&lt;br /&gt;One of the hottest days on record.&lt;br /&gt;That certainly deserves a cool, patriotic treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VRhVBdfZeMk/Ti4XYyvrQBI/AAAAAAAABt0/r4C9mq99wU4/s1600/DSC_0282.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VRhVBdfZeMk/Ti4XYyvrQBI/AAAAAAAABt0/r4C9mq99wU4/s400/DSC_0282.jpg" width="263" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VRhVBdfZeMk/Ti4XYyvrQBI/AAAAAAAABt0/r4C9mq99wU4/s1600/DSC_0282.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JMMa2H197yY/Ti4XZx109ZI/AAAAAAAABt4/Zj0mAKIrPg0/s1600/DSC_0284.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JMMa2H197yY/Ti4XZx109ZI/AAAAAAAABt4/Zj0mAKIrPg0/s400/DSC_0284.jpg" width="264" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oNpo2rmMZmQ/Ti4Xa6ii6gI/AAAAAAAABt8/OqS5_fyivv8/s1600/DSC_0287.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oNpo2rmMZmQ/Ti4Xa6ii6gI/AAAAAAAABt8/OqS5_fyivv8/s400/DSC_0287.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tj7v4OpUlFU/Ti4Xc8cjn8I/AAAAAAAABuE/r97hiiPHVCQ/s1600/DSC_0295.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tj7v4OpUlFU/Ti4Xc8cjn8I/AAAAAAAABuE/r97hiiPHVCQ/s400/DSC_0295.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Somehow, Morgan was able to rim her lips with the cherry flavored portion of her pop in order to achieve that berry stained lip effect that's trending for this summer. &amp;nbsp;Always fashion forward, that one.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yXqTQOLbz94/Ti4Xf015cmI/AAAAAAAABuI/8a1IT2SBigo/s1600/DSC_0298.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yXqTQOLbz94/Ti4Xf015cmI/AAAAAAAABuI/8a1IT2SBigo/s400/DSC_0298.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Coever had a more practical approach,&amp;nbsp;namely "popsicle to mouth; repeat".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YuU-Vk4FRps/Ti4XhzzyhdI/AAAAAAAABuQ/NXYfTGNm1uc/s1600/DSC_0301.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YuU-Vk4FRps/Ti4XhzzyhdI/AAAAAAAABuQ/NXYfTGNm1uc/s400/DSC_0301.jpg" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Miraculously, most of it ended up in her mouth, save for this tiny drip on her knee. It was so hot, we weren't just sweating; sweat was flinging itself off of our bodies in search of cooler places to reside. &amp;nbsp;It's not surprising that the red, white and blue colored ice became a blurple-ish soup faster than they could get it in their mouths.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;It looks like they've been eating Smurfs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iKYcwJjCAoY/Ti4ajVFj4sI/AAAAAAAABus/b6AUcCwbDUk/s1600/DSC_0312-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iKYcwJjCAoY/Ti4ajVFj4sI/AAAAAAAABus/b6AUcCwbDUk/s320/DSC_0312-1.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zTo_qQBPc3U/Ti4aDHhkJ4I/AAAAAAAABuo/8FNDZL_tQvA/s1600/DSC_0306.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zTo_qQBPc3U/Ti4aDHhkJ4I/AAAAAAAABuo/8FNDZL_tQvA/s320/DSC_0306.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6647037438141813038-390599456645926431?l=hilarywithonel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/feeds/390599456645926431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6647037438141813038&amp;postID=390599456645926431&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/390599456645926431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6647037438141813038/posts/default/390599456645926431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/07/popsicles.html' title='Popsicles'/><author><name>Hilary</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10047619856144475098</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VRhVBdfZeMk/Ti4XYyvrQBI/AAAAAAAABt0/r4C9mq99wU4/s72-c/DSC_0282.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6647037438141813038.post-471015089392215825</id><published>2011-07-23T22:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T22:04:53.847-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mermaids'/><title type='text'>Painted Walls, Happy Girls</title><content type='html'>When we broke the news to the girls that we were leaving Norfolk for Richmond, Morgan was particularly vocal in her reluctance to leave. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She listed all of the reasons she didn't want to leave Norfolk, why Richmond wouldn't be any fun, and all possible scenarios that would render her post-kindergarten summer the worst on record. &amp;nbsp;Not easily swayed by the drama she puts forth, seeing as she does so on a regular basis, Craig and I heaped reason after reason why a move would in fact be a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wasn't buying it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Craig resorted the one, true &lt;s&gt;trick&lt;/s&gt;&amp;nbsp;tool every parent calls upon at one point or another: bribery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We told the girls that with a move to a new house comes a new room for them to decorate. &amp;nbsp;Ever the skeptic, Morgan asked, "Decorate however we want?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within reason, we assured her, but certainly, think of the possibilities. &amp;nbsp;Craig enumerated all the ways they could make their new room their own. &amp;nbsp;He mentioned hanging up the &lt;a href="http://www.homespunart.com/art/default.php?cPath=40_76&amp;amp;osCsid=093f4df20427c8ebeb4927f8d9011bbb"&gt;Norfolk Mermaid poster&lt;/a&gt; we had framed, putting up&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://hilarywithonel.blogspot.com/2011/07/home-sweet-home.html"&gt;canopy beds&lt;/a&gt;. Then he pulled out the big gun: a mermaid mural on the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, Morgan heard that and well, it was done deal. &amp;nbsp;For days thereafter, "When are we going to Richmond and when are we getting the mural painted on the wall?" became her constant call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we boxed up the Norfolk house day after day, as the movers came and carted stuff onto the truck, she kept reminding Coever, ". . and when we get to Richmond, we're going to get a mural of mermaids on the wall! I'm so excited!" She'd clench her hands together up under her chin and bounce on her toes in anticipation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we rolled up to the new digs, you can imagine what she said. When she and Coever raced up the stairs to their room, you can imagine what she said, immediately followed by, "Well, where is it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, Craig had been in touch with several artists, trying to obtain the best one for the project. We decided that when the girls spent a week with his parents this summer, we'd get it done while they were gone and it would be ready to surprise them when they came home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is exactly what we did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F-hruKBM5X0/Titz7c3DfAI/AAAAAAAABsw/IjaMeHuiaUo/s1600/DSC_0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F-hruKBM5X0/Titz7c3DfAI/AAAAAAAABsw/IjaMeHuiaUo/s400/DSC_0008.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Morgan and Coever as mermaids&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-svmIWaGOmuA/Titz-mUc8BI/AAAAAAAABs8/y5JzgseuFeE/s1600/DSC_0017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-svmIWaGOmuA/Titz-mUc8BI/AAAAAAAABs8/y5JzgseuFeE/s400/DSC_0017.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I love the detailing of the puffs and the eyes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TJaLhK6v1vM/Titz8Ny5osI/AAAAAAAABs0/4mpFNsLcD5k/s1600/DSC_0012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TJaLhK6v1vM/Titz8Ny5osI/AAAAAAAABs0/4mpFNsLcD5k/s400/DSC_0012.jpg" width="265" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-slhzpqD8ONM/Titz9sVq2yI/AAAAAAAABs4/pjljjuJb_Vs/s1600/DSC_0015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-slhzpqD8ONM/Titz9sVq2yI/AAAAAAAABs4/pjljjuJb_Vs/s400/DSC_0015.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Many thanks to &lt;a href="http://www.freewebs.com/emizart/"&gt;Emily Z.&lt;/a&gt; for the great design and speedy work!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YaJ_Q0RqWiA/Tit8YnplH5I/AAAAAAAABtM/NR6mMnYKNnM/s1600/DSC_0393.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YaJ_Q0RqWiA/Tit8YnplH5I/AAAAAAAABtM/NR6mMnYKNnM/s400/DSC_0393.jpg" width="243" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vMZFS-JKK5U/Tit8ZQCbKpI/AAAAAAAABtQ/EpI4SWTphP0/s1600/DSC_0395.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vMZFS-JKK5U/Tit8ZQCbKpI/AAAAAAAABtQ/EpI4SWTphP0/s400/DSC_0395.jpg" width="253" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DQg2FOyryR0/Tit8aCBZzFI/AAAAAAAABtU/UhsR2CoxRa4/s1600/DSC_03
