<?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-2622010290556427840</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:29:35.187-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sands Through the Hourglass</title><subtitle type='html'>The Days of My Life...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>48</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-2478288659224522812</id><published>2009-01-31T16:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T16:48:03.729-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Sister Beckie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SYTvcgqHpJI/AAAAAAAAAO0/H9VMwEj-cwk/s1600-h/IMG_1552.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 360px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SYTvcgqHpJI/AAAAAAAAAO0/H9VMwEj-cwk/s400/IMG_1552.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297622334776517778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is my sister Beckie. I could add the words "In law" here, but it doesn't mean anything anymore. Because Beckie has become a true sister to me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Beckie was my first sister that came by way of marriage. I've learned so much from her. She is a pillar of patience and love. She is hard working, creative, clever, and brave. She is quiet and maybe she thinks that I don't notice her, but I do, and I see how much humility and love she has for my family and me. She braves the boisterous family and she reminds us to be kind and true to ourselves.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Beckie gave me blogging and family cookbooks and love. She even welcomed me to her house on Christmas Day with a few hour's notice and put us up for the night. But mostly, she also gave me my first niece, my first nephew and then another nephew and another niece. She lets me play with her kids in pools and on floors. She lets me change their diapers and walk them to sleep. She lets me absorb myself in them when I am around, and for that, I will eternally be thankful to Beckie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today is Beckie's birthday. I'm pretty sure she's a lot younger than I am. But I'm so glad she was born.   She's taught me so much and in spite of some differing opinions in life, she shows me her love and I am so glad to call her my sister. I love you, Beckie. I'm glad your last name is the same as mine, and I'm glad that our family is forever, because I want to be with you for that long.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-2478288659224522812?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/2478288659224522812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=2478288659224522812' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/2478288659224522812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/2478288659224522812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-sister-beckie.html' title='My Sister Beckie'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SYTvcgqHpJI/AAAAAAAAAO0/H9VMwEj-cwk/s72-c/IMG_1552.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-3694727053751014505</id><published>2009-01-22T11:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T11:41:47.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Time to Begin Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SXjL6wT-SVI/AAAAAAAAAOE/nkqI7ibFkgY/s1600-h/callie_inaug_11a%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294205572235544914" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 264px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SXjL6wT-SVI/AAAAAAAAAOE/nkqI7ibFkgY/s400/callie_inaug_11a%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SXjL6qddX4I/AAAAAAAAAN8/KBCESBEG730/s1600-h/callie_inaug_09%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294205570664718210" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 264px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SXjL6qddX4I/AAAAAAAAAN8/KBCESBEG730/s400/callie_inaug_09%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hello dear ones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Forgive me for dropping off the face of the planet for awhile there. But, I promise I'm back and I'm better than ever!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Although January falls in the middle of the school year for me, and although it's the middle of winter, for some reason January is also a time for beginnings. A new year, Terms of Office begin in January, and for me: A new chance to begin this blog again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In honor of all that is new this year, I am posting photographs from behind the scenes with President Obama on Tuesday. I'm gearing up and centering myself like him and I hope that we all renew ourselves and come out better on the other side. &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/2622010290556427840-3694727053751014505?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/3694727053751014505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=3694727053751014505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/3694727053751014505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/3694727053751014505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-time-to-begin-again.html' title='It&apos;s Time to Begin Again'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SXjL6wT-SVI/AAAAAAAAAOE/nkqI7ibFkgY/s72-c/callie_inaug_11a%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-8426955748367222813</id><published>2008-12-13T11:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T12:20:10.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Cookie Roundup!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SUQY7GEWecI/AAAAAAAAAN0/Z59BOctVOJ8/s1600-h/3009956843_f68511ae36.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 305px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SUQY7GEWecI/AAAAAAAAAN0/Z59BOctVOJ8/s400/3009956843_f68511ae36.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279372066705275330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhh. I'm so sorry I'm tardy on this one. I've been under the weather in a big way- think 2 trips to the Dr, a few prescriptions, and some time off work. Luckily, I'm up a little today, only a few hours late for this post. Sorry...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is my Christmas Cookie:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These are the sugar cookies of my childhood. My mother got this recipe as a teenager and made it for us every Christmas. Here it is:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Old Fashioned Sugar Cookies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 c shortening&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5 c flour&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1/2 tsp salt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1/2 tsp baking soda&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4 tsp baking powder&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 c sugar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 c brown sugar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 tsp vanilla&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 eggs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 cup sour cream&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1/2 tsp cinnamon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1/4 tsp nutmeg&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mix well all ingredients. Chill 2 to 3 hours at least. Roll and cut into decorative shapes. Bake at 350 degrees until edges are lightly browned. Do not overcook. Frost or decorate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is my sister-in-law's fabulous easy, secret frosting recipe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jello Frosting&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1/4 c Jello powder (use the color/flavor you need)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1/4 c boiling water&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6 Tablespoons butter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 lb. powdered sugar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dissolve the jello into the water. Add the butter. Then add the powdered sugar until it reaches spreading consistency.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Decorate and enjoy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Holidays!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the next recipe check out Critter Creations. Click &lt;a href="http://www.critterscreations.com/"&gt;here&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/2622010290556427840-8426955748367222813?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/8426955748367222813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=8426955748367222813' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/8426955748367222813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/8426955748367222813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-cookie-roundup.html' title='Christmas Cookie Roundup!'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SUQY7GEWecI/AAAAAAAAAN0/Z59BOctVOJ8/s72-c/3009956843_f68511ae36.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-1538184525527360770</id><published>2008-11-30T16:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T19:05:45.678-08:00</updated><title type='text'>30 Posts in 30 Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STNTAD375WI/AAAAAAAAANs/O7zNS3OGdJ0/s1600-h/nablo1108.didit.120x240.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 122px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STNTAD375WI/AAAAAAAAANs/O7zNS3OGdJ0/s400/nablo1108.didit.120x240.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274650849086006626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Thank you, thank you ladies and gentlemen! No, please sit down, really, I don't deserve such applause! I'd like to give a special sound out to the following people who helped make this event possible: First, to Beckie for helping me get this whole ball rolling and for your ongoing support. I love you, Beckie and I'm so glad I can call you sister. Next, to Kaleena who sat next to me and encouraged me and tutored me several times this past  month. I appreciate your help and love and support also. Also, a special thank you to my daughter Taylor for all you've done to allow me access to the computer when I know you'd rather have had access. Also for all the good supply of blog posts that you've given me lately, a special and loving thank you. No thank you would be complete without a huge shout out of gratitude, love and more love to Daniel who has suffered through my feeble writing attempts, late nights at the computer and a consistent drop off in my ability to complete any household tasks. I love you, sweetie, and i appreciate you buying the laptop that sits on the kitchen table that I use to post. :*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Finally, a great big hug and kiss to all the readers who read my blog. All 8 of you! I love you and I love your comments. Thank you!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STM22qhWpNI/AAAAAAAAANk/bN1rAUt1fpk/s1600-h/IMG_0958.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STM22qhWpNI/AAAAAAAAANk/bN1rAUt1fpk/s400/IMG_0958.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274619901336003794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;See this look? I melt with this look. I love Daniel! He's so fun and charming and can make me laugh just as hard as I did when I met him 19 years ago in the middle of the night in the parking lot. He's looking at our daughter, Taylor, and he's just got the pizza dinner that he spoiled us with. He drives 5 hours a day and works 8 hours so he can support us and be with us, even if for a few minutes. I do love this man...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STM21xbNiuI/AAAAAAAAANc/qL-BFPe9ryY/s1600-h/IMG_0960.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STM21xbNiuI/AAAAAAAAANc/qL-BFPe9ryY/s400/IMG_0960.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274619886009420514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Today I went to lunch with these 2 ladies: Karen and Sally. Doesn't this look like we are about to spend more than 2 hours laughing, crying, having fun and eating great food? Thanks, Sally! I love my friends!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STM21aoT68I/AAAAAAAAANU/NCCqrfVtXHk/s1600-h/IMG_0956.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STM21aoT68I/AAAAAAAAANU/NCCqrfVtXHk/s400/IMG_0956.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274619879890348994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There's that guy Daniel again. I sure do love him. He's the kind of guy that you want on your side. He's the one that makes me laugh and feel good being around. He's also the guy who makes me a better person by being around him and knowing him. How lucky can a girl be?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STM21P59aEI/AAAAAAAAANM/Nthxv8j0HRw/s1600-h/IMG_0953.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STM21P59aEI/AAAAAAAAANM/Nthxv8j0HRw/s400/IMG_0953.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274619877011580994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I've been hanging out with these 2 for 9 years now. The one on the right, Taylor, I've known for about 13 years. In spite of everything I adore her and love her so much. And Katie, well, Katie is like another daughter to me. Except I don't have to pay for her orthodontia. (Taylor hates this photo, btw)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STM20qeswAI/AAAAAAAAANE/mB0sn0bQQM8/s1600-h/IMG_0950.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STM20qeswAI/AAAAAAAAANE/mB0sn0bQQM8/s400/IMG_0950.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274619866965131266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I went to the Aquarium yesterday with this fun group of people. The Chemers Family. Sorry I posted the blurry one. I have some others that I'll email to the family if they leave me a note in the comment section with their email address. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tonight's the night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've completed 30 posts in 30 days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for coming along for the ride!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've shared a lot these past 30 days. Did I find my blogging voice? Sometimes. Sometimes I did not. And I had a few moments of writers block. I've learned a lot about blogging and I've also found that I literally CRAVE comments. I've tried to be better about leaving comments on other blogs that I stalk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For now though, let me raise my glass in salutations and gratitude to all the readers out there: Thank you for hanging on through this crazy month and thank you for being kind and loyal in spite of my ramblings. I salute you, readers, for getting through the last month! Cheers!&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/2622010290556427840-1538184525527360770?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/1538184525527360770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=1538184525527360770' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/1538184525527360770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/1538184525527360770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/30-posts-in-30-days_30.html' title='30 Posts in 30 Days'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STNTAD375WI/AAAAAAAAANs/O7zNS3OGdJ0/s72-c/nablo1108.didit.120x240.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-4427503945377087745</id><published>2008-11-29T20:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T21:42:25.193-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflections</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STInprtXl0I/AAAAAAAAAM8/IxXMt0As99E/s1600-h/housewife-773019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 387px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STInprtXl0I/AAAAAAAAAM8/IxXMt0As99E/s400/housewife-773019.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274321710665406274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, it's almost the end of 2008. I just got another year older. It's an interesting time in which we live, isn't it? It makes me want to sit down and really assess my life. What's right with it? What's wrong with it? What's in my future? What have I done well and what do I still need to learn? Where have I been and where am I going? &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only problem is that as I sit down to do this, my mind doesn't know where to start. I instantly start thinking of all of my friends and family who might be reading this and I can't stop thinking of all of you. There are some of you that I miss so terribly that my heart hurts just thinking about it. There are some of you that I am filled with regret about things I should have told you or should have not told you. There are some that I have just seen or will likely see within the week. And here's what I'm thinking: It's all of you that still hang in there with me and are willing to glance at my bizarre writing/thoughts on occasion that really make my life meaningful. All of you are the ones who add the brushstrokes to my life that make it what it is. And I want you all to know that of all the things I'm thankful for, you all are on the top of the list.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But would you like to know what I still need to learn?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. To balance a checkbook&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. To prioritize&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. To live fully&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. To stop feeling like I disappoint certain people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. To learn how to live with my adorable 12 year old daughter all the time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. To keep in better touch with all of  you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. To change my own windshield wipers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. To stop procrastinating.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. To stop worrying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. To remember this list!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are there things you still need to learn? Things that you want to share for me to help me take stock of my life? Feel free to leave a comment!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-4427503945377087745?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/4427503945377087745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=4427503945377087745' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/4427503945377087745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/4427503945377087745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/reflections.html' title='Reflections'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STInprtXl0I/AAAAAAAAAM8/IxXMt0As99E/s72-c/housewife-773019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-5601935023653864439</id><published>2008-11-29T10:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T10:09:56.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What On Earth?!?!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STGFao9cTDI/AAAAAAAAAM0/5Dw-P5-FecU/s1600-h/images-8.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 81px; height: 130px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STGFao9cTDI/AAAAAAAAAM0/5Dw-P5-FecU/s400/images-8.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274143331345779762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just like that, it comes to me this morning that I totally forgot to post yesterday. I mean, really??? I drove across Utah, Nevada and California exhausted, and managed to still write a few lines going each way. I have gotten up in the middle of the night to post. And then, it's the day after Thanksgiving and then it's a holiday weekend and I just forget until this morning???? What is going on with me?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will tell you all a secret. I think I know what happened to me. I allowed myself to get lost in a book and it was all I could do to come up for dinner and the next thing I knew it was today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The book I've been engrossed in is _The Story of Edgar Sawtelle_. It's the Oprah book. And I know what you're thinking...but really, this was a GREAT book. And at the end, I just had to sit there and think and think and think. (I don't want to hear any jokes about that...)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But here is what else I did yesterday: I went to the mall. Not to shop. Not to contribute to our nations failing economy. No. I went to see Twilight again with my gal pals AGAIN. At 10:45 AM! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I took a nap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Consider it a late birthday present to myself. I indulged in almost all my favorite things!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going to post twice today to make it up to myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And here's another weird thing: My birthday post date says 11/26. But it was 11/27. Promise.&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/2622010290556427840-5601935023653864439?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/5601935023653864439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=5601935023653864439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/5601935023653864439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/5601935023653864439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-on-earth.html' title='What On Earth?!?!?!'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/STGFao9cTDI/AAAAAAAAAM0/5Dw-P5-FecU/s72-c/images-8.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-346334806758628120</id><published>2008-11-26T13:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T11:07:40.484-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Because it's my birthday, Thanksgiving, and I won't have time to really post, here's one I made for today. Happy Thanksgiving, dear ones!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Here's what the signs around my office should/could read: &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;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SS3IL9Nx4JI/AAAAAAAAAMs/2HHKlXumdY8/s1600-h/3040422457_40cecabe15_o%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273090846457192594" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 335px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SS3IL9Nx4JI/AAAAAAAAAMs/2HHKlXumdY8/s400/3040422457_40cecabe15_o%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SS3ILvMlqcI/AAAAAAAAAMk/9NyDuQKYYGA/s1600-h/3041261740_76e9ce405e_o%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273090842694101442" style="WIDTH: 279px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SS3ILvMlqcI/AAAAAAAAAMk/9NyDuQKYYGA/s400/3041261740_76e9ce405e_o%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SS3HTS5_74I/AAAAAAAAAMU/UYM4n6jkMoQ/s1600-h/3041263368_a41f461e03_o%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273089873027264386" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 335px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SS3HTS5_74I/AAAAAAAAAMU/UYM4n6jkMoQ/s400/3041263368_a41f461e03_o%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SS3HTGlT7yI/AAAAAAAAAMM/twjcpLIr6Ig/s1600-h/3040422257_8a238ff97b_o%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273089869719269154" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 335px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SS3HTGlT7yI/AAAAAAAAAMM/twjcpLIr6Ig/s400/3040422257_8a238ff97b_o%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SS3HTGRQgaI/AAAAAAAAAME/9gIno7JJnHw/s1600-h/3041260892_1bb7e072ee_o%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273089869635158434" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 335px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SS3HTGRQgaI/AAAAAAAAAME/9gIno7JJnHw/s400/3041260892_1bb7e072ee_o%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SS3HSvW0riI/AAAAAAAAAL0/9i7kfMf6rKw/s1600-h/3040420931_cd9434b77a_o%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273089863484485154" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 335px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SS3HSvW0riI/AAAAAAAAAL0/9i7kfMf6rKw/s400/3040420931_cd9434b77a_o%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Special Thanks go the Pioneer Woman from whom I borrowed these images.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I would actually love to work where they had enough of a sense of humor to actually post these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-346334806758628120?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/346334806758628120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=346334806758628120' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/346334806758628120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/346334806758628120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/because-its-my-birthday-thanksgiving.html' title='Because it&apos;s my birthday, Thanksgiving, and I won&apos;t have time to really post, here&apos;s one I made for today. Happy Thanksgiving, dear ones!'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SS3IL9Nx4JI/AAAAAAAAAMs/2HHKlXumdY8/s72-c/3040422457_40cecabe15_o%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-1841298285367544663</id><published>2008-11-26T13:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T13:56:08.995-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here it really is!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style='background-color:#e9e9e9; width: 425px;'&gt;&lt;object id='A166610' quality='high' data='http://aka.zero.jibjab.com/client/zero/ClientZero_EmbedViewer.swf?external_make_id=sepz6gqUX2uCX2jB&amp;service=sendables.jibjab.com&amp;partnerID=JibJab' pluginspage='http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' wmode='transparent' height='319' width='425'&gt;&lt;param name='wmode' value='transparent'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='movie' value='http://aka.zero.jibjab.com/client/zero/ClientZero_EmbedViewer.swf?external_make_id=sepz6gqUX2uCX2jB&amp;service=sendables.jibjab.com'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='scaleMode' value='showAll'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='quality' value='high'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='allowNetworking' value='all'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='allowFullScreen' value='true' /&gt;&lt;param name='FlashVars' value='external_make_id=sepz6gqUX2uCX2jB&amp;service=sendables.jibjab.com'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='allowScriptAccess' value='always'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style='text-align:center; width:435px; margin-top:6px;'&gt;Try JibJab Sendables® &lt;a href='http://sendables.jibjab.com/sendables'&gt;eCards&lt;/a&gt; today!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTIyNzczNjUyNTI2NSZwdD*xMjI3NzM2NTU4NzAzJnA9MTkxMTMxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTImdD*mbz*5YjZiN2E5M2Q2Yzg*OGM3OTk3ZWRlZWRmNDk3OGQzZg==.gif" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-1841298285367544663?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/1841298285367544663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=1841298285367544663' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/1841298285367544663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/1841298285367544663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/here-it-really-is.html' title='Here it really is!'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-6870206036444554475</id><published>2008-11-26T13:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T09:26:52.674-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Look at Me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="WIDTH: 425px; BACKGROUND-COLOR: #e9e9e9"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="VISIBILITY: hidden; WIDTH: 0px; HEIGHT: 0px" height="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTIyNzczNDA2MzUzMSZwdD*xMjI3NzM*Mzc1NTkzJnA9MTkxMTMxJmQ9MzAzJm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTImdD*mbz*5YjZiN2E5M2Q2Yzg*OGM3OTk3ZWRlZWRmNDk3OGQzZg==.gif" width="0" border="0" /&gt; Special thanks to Marie B. for putting this together. Look at me! Well, not that closely...I'm wearing the famous green scarf that's since been sent on to Claudia Perry in Utah! I believe that picture was taken in Chinatown, San Francisco last spring. You could listen to this over and over while you're preparing your Thanksgiving Dinner! I know I will...just kidding.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy Thanksgiving Eve, everyone!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-6870206036444554475?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/6870206036444554475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=6870206036444554475' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/6870206036444554475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/6870206036444554475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/look-at-me.html' title='Look at Me!'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-7232799221674860128</id><published>2008-11-24T21:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T18:26:49.764-08:00</updated><title type='text'>National Day of Listening</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSuMHVq2K4I/AAAAAAAAALs/VbGhJhIMoAs/s1600-h/rotate.php.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 252px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSuMHVq2K4I/AAAAAAAAALs/VbGhJhIMoAs/s400/rotate.php.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272461846471125890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See that little box on the side of the blog? The one that says, "National Day of Listening"? See that picture above that reminds us that Listening is the greatest gift?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you push &lt;a href="http://www.storycorps.net/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; you will be taken to the StoryCorps  site and can find out about the Day of Listening. There, you can hear really cool stories that will make you laugh, cry and be in awe. The amazing thing is, is that these are stories told by ordinary people like you and me. You will learn about a cool project that people are trying to do this year: LISTEN to the stories of others. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The idea is this: The day after Thanksgiving, you set aside about 45 minutes with a loved one, you go into a quiet area and you interview them. Ideally, you record the interview and then you have a cherished memory for the future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You will find such interview questions as:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What was the happiest moment of your life?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What are you most proud of?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What are the most important lessons you've learned in life?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is your earliest memory?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How would you like to be remembered?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When in life have you felt most alone?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How has your life been different than what you'd imagined?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is there anything that you've never told me but want to tell me now?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is there something about me that you've always wanted to know but have never asked?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who has been the kindest to you in your life?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are other questions that you can look at for the specific relationship you have with the interviewee. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love this idea, and I hope that everyone in my family does it and records them and then we make one big family CD with memories and interviews. I think it's a great idea to give a gift that really only costs a CD, listening and time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What other interview questions do you think would make a good interview? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Listening is an Act of Love...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By listening to the stories of others, you tell them that they matter and won't ever be forgotten. It may be the most meaningful time you spend this year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Think about participating!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/2622010290556427840-7232799221674860128?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/7232799221674860128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=7232799221674860128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/7232799221674860128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/7232799221674860128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/national-day-of-listening.html' title='National Day of Listening'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSuMHVq2K4I/AAAAAAAAALs/VbGhJhIMoAs/s72-c/rotate.php.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-4810335753335064122</id><published>2008-11-24T19:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T20:13:45.512-08:00</updated><title type='text'>39 Lessons Learned</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSt6t4kgXsI/AAAAAAAAALk/z4gYnNriCd4/s1600-h/lessons+learned.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 316px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSt6t4kgXsI/AAAAAAAAALk/z4gYnNriCd4/s400/lessons+learned.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272442717465501378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm pretty sure I've had that same lesson somewhere along the way!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Dear Great Aunt Grace sent me an Email this week with some lessons learned from life. Because I'm gettin' ready to roll on out of my 30s soon, I thought I'd share some of the lessons I've learned:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Life isn't fair, and that can be a good thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. When insisting you're right, you make someone else wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Crying with someone is better than crying alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. After you give birth, your bladder somehow moves to behind your eyes, causing such embarrassing leaks called tears over things you swore you'd never cry over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Being 12 sucks most of the time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Being the parent of 12 year old sucks sometimes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. Reading a good book all day is never a wasted day. Reading a bad book is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. When you compare yourself to others there will always be people above and people below. It isn't worth it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. Never make major decisions about your life after 10 PM.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. A good night's sleep can change your whole view.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11. 2 wrongs don't make a right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;12. If a job isn't worth doing your best at, it isn't worth doing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;13. Being competitive can push you harder. Also, it can be a pain in the hiney.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;14. You can be poor, but you don't have to be messy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;15. Wood floors cleaned with Murphy's Oil Soap is a fabulous smell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;16. That which does not kill us, makes us stronger.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;17. Deep breathing can get you through some tough moments.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;18. Get rid of anything in your life that isn't useful, beautiful, or joyful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;19. Every night is a good night for eating dinner by candlelight- you'll look better, feel better and save $ on electricity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;20. Cloth napkins just make more sense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;21. Only you can make you happy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;22. You can only change yourself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;23. When faced with a tough moment, ask yourself, "In 5 years will this matter?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;24. Holding a grudge is heavy work- let them go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;25. Time heals almost everything. Really.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;26. Good or bad- change is constant in life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;27. Your family will miss you when you're gone. Your work won't. Remember that and live your life accordingly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;28. Practice Random Acts of Kindness&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;29. Live life! Don't just sit back and watch. You only get one life- make it memorable!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;30. When you're feeling down: Get up, Dress up, and Show Up!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;31. Look people in the eyes when you're with them. Listen to what they're really saying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;32. They who laugh, last.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;33. Insurance is the one thing you can't buy when you need it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;34. Well behaved women rarely  make history.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;35. Talk to people around you. You'd be surprised what you can learn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;36. Everyone has something to offer. Look and listen with your heart. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;37. It's better to be poor and happy than to be well paid and miserable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;38. Facebook could be called Crackbook.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;39. If you find yourself with an empty heart, fill it with flowers you give to yourself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But maybe in the end it's like the cartoon said: Some of the lessons you teach aren't the lessons learned. Any lessons you've all learned that you want to share in the comments?&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/2622010290556427840-4810335753335064122?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/4810335753335064122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=4810335753335064122' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/4810335753335064122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/4810335753335064122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/39-lessons-learned.html' title='39 Lessons Learned'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSt6t4kgXsI/AAAAAAAAALk/z4gYnNriCd4/s72-c/lessons+learned.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-4009775064084303924</id><published>2008-11-23T18:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T20:07:39.280-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No Time Like The Present</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSohaF5BhHI/AAAAAAAAAK0/rgt3CDlJG8c/s1600-h/GetAttachment.aspx.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 317px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSohaF5BhHI/AAAAAAAAAK0/rgt3CDlJG8c/s400/GetAttachment.aspx.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272063045932254322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm ready for a new look. I'd like to be thinner, have fewer lines in my forehead and be taller. None of those will change before I turn 39 in a few days. But- one thing I can do is get a new haircut. I'd like to get a new look, because I've had basically the same hair since the first Bush Administration. Don't believe me? That picture up above was taken in approximately 1988. My permed hair was held back with a pencil. Nice purple pompom slippers, eh? Actually, I'm not sure what part of this picture is the best part. Please be kind, the 80s did strange things to all of us.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSoiOY3je8I/AAAAAAAAAK8/pRmqV9Oe_pk/s320/images-8.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272063944379562946" style="cursor: pointer; width: 128px; height: 84px; " /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've always been a big fan of this look. But I've also just been a big fan of Amelie. Bangs? Do I dare go for the bangs? They seem like such a commitment, and you know I'm a commitment-phobe on several levels.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used to have bangs.  Here I am in the 1970s with bangs:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSooDZkbg-I/AAAAAAAAALc/XbDvbdCGLmY/s400/s1246840376_30220287_3582.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272070352658990050" style="cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 121px; " /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Special thanks to my friend Chaunine whom I borrowed this picture from. We were cuties swimming at Sherwood Hills. This photo was taken 1st or 2nd grade, circa 1977.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm also thinking about some sort of compromise with this kind of look:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSojZAV5lRI/AAAAAAAAALM/4HBlGRhC0yA/s320/4777_6901_hargitay-mariska-02-1x.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272065226286142738" style="cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 136px; " /&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSojY2xGb1I/AAAAAAAAALE/6uRW25iq76I/s320/4773_6893_hargitay-mariska-01-1x.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272065223715876690" style="cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 136px; " /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know....Is it too much like my hair for the past million years? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe I should just go Sinead O'Connor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm in agony, I can't decide! What do you all think? Please help me!&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/2622010290556427840-4009775064084303924?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/4009775064084303924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=4009775064084303924' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/4009775064084303924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/4009775064084303924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/no-time-like-present.html' title='No Time Like The Present'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSohaF5BhHI/AAAAAAAAAK0/rgt3CDlJG8c/s72-c/GetAttachment.aspx.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-8715911764891504832</id><published>2008-11-22T20:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T20:42:17.507-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSjept4NIuI/AAAAAAAAAKs/xID5YG04h7Y/s1600-h/images-4.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 124px; height: 93px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSjept4NIuI/AAAAAAAAAKs/xID5YG04h7Y/s400/images-4.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271708172108505826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mmmm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSjeptyTCZI/AAAAAAAAAKk/mA3j1i71Bi8/s1600-h/images-3.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 92px; height: 135px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSjeptyTCZI/AAAAAAAAAKk/mA3j1i71Bi8/s400/images-3.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271708172083726738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So Far So Good!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSjepaPhERI/AAAAAAAAAKc/sQtdNhwNnQE/s1600-h/images-2.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 88px; height: 129px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSjepaPhERI/AAAAAAAAAKc/sQtdNhwNnQE/s400/images-2.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271708166837571858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Huh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSjepEBhZaI/AAAAAAAAAKU/rVTyUCY8S_8/s1600-h/images-1.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 79px; height: 110px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSjepEBhZaI/AAAAAAAAAKU/rVTyUCY8S_8/s400/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271708160873293218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This  movie's _how_ old?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what Saturday Night is looking like at my house:&lt;div&gt;Taylor's sick with a cold. Daniel has to go to work early tomorrow morning, and I didn't get enough done today. It's cold, it's dark.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what do we do?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We watch old movies. Are they classics? You decide: First we watched Oceans Eleven. Then we watched Max Dugan Returns. And now we're starting The Gods Must Be Crazy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm pretty sure WE'RE the crazy ones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I've included pictures, including some scrumptious pictures from Oceans Eleven that should make this lame post up to you.&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/2622010290556427840-8715911764891504832?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/8715911764891504832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=8715911764891504832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/8715911764891504832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/8715911764891504832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/saturday-night.html' title='Saturday Night'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSjept4NIuI/AAAAAAAAAKs/xID5YG04h7Y/s72-c/images-4.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-2469347195312777472</id><published>2008-11-21T21:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T21:22:48.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Twilight</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSeWVTVQFqI/AAAAAAAAAKM/9HjSjljrLNM/s1600-h/twilight_movie-7171.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSeWVTVQFqI/AAAAAAAAAKM/9HjSjljrLNM/s400/twilight_movie-7171.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271347181571282594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just getting home from seeing the new flick _Twilight_.&lt;div&gt;It was a crap movie but I loved it. I loved it when Edward kissed Bella. I loved the cheesiness of the movie. I loved the storyline. I even will confess to enjoying the main characters. I thought Jacob was much cuter in the movie than I had imagined him. But was anyone else distracted by the Columbia River in the background instead of the Pacific Ocean? And how cool was Stephenie Meyer's cameo in the cafe? Go Stephenie! My movie experience was definitely enhanced by seeing it with Daniel, some Mom friends and 15 twelve year olds in a theatre full of adolescent girls. The best part was when Edward was kissing Bella and a young man behind me whispered, "What's taking him so long????" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what did the rest of you Twilight-a-holics think? The girls in my car going home wish that the movie was 6 hours long and had incorporated all the books because they can't wait. And several young ladies think Edward and Jacob are scrumptious! Please leave your comments on the movie/book!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-2469347195312777472?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/2469347195312777472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=2469347195312777472' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/2469347195312777472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/2469347195312777472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/twilight.html' title='Twilight'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSeWVTVQFqI/AAAAAAAAAKM/9HjSjljrLNM/s72-c/twilight_movie-7171.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-3961319284113238312</id><published>2008-11-20T21:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T21:42:30.029-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everybody's Working For the Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Here are some interesting things Taylor Simpson downloaded while she was doing her "homework" that I found on the desktop tonight:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSZJiVNUdQI/AAAAAAAAAKE/0NX-ycw3qCM/s1600-h/5178_0L.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSZJiVNUdQI/AAAAAAAAAKE/0NX-ycw3qCM/s400/5178_0L.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270981268041135362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmmm. Should I tell her about Flo and Alice and the Kiss My Grits Phenomenon?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSZJiUK3QyI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/k_xG-BMZEWs/s1600-h/5236_0L.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSZJiUK3QyI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/k_xG-BMZEWs/s400/5236_0L.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270981267762397986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you think she gets backstage because of her talent to stand on her tiptoes? Or do I want to even explore that further? Nice kerchief, by the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSZJiISX-8I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/cnVNJCzwAPo/s1600-h/5718_0L.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSZJiISX-8I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/cnVNJCzwAPo/s400/5718_0L.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270981264572677058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But what was the old pink? What did Black used to be? Do you think this girl forgot a whole leg of her tights? I like the concept though. You all know I'm a big fan of wearing all black whenever I can.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it just me, or are the rest of you exhausted by Thursday night? My house was clean last Sunday when the week started. There was order when I looked around.  Now, I see mail, peppermint cookies, laundry folded, a backpack, hot pads, a box, some papers...it's just crazy! I know I should be tidying up, but I have to blog! Thursdays are always the moment when I just take a deep breath and I usually get my second wind by Friday when I perk up because it's the weekend. I don't know why the dishwasher has been loaded for 2 days and has yet to be turned on. I don't know why I haven't emptied the trash. Well, it could have something to do with just being lazy and tired. I didn't get home tonight until almost 7 PM. I worked 8 hours and drove around the peninsula- almost running out of gas. I did stop what I was doing and look into the eyes of someone trying to talk to me and listened beyond her words and found someone who was worried, scared and needed a hug. I was glad I did that. But you know, my house is still untidy, my desk is still scattered, and I have 4 days of newspapers in my car that haven't even been opened! What is going on with me???&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, the jury came back on the Brad Perry murder  trial today after finding him guilty last week and sentenced him to life without parole. You can watch more &lt;a href="http://www.ksl.com/?nid=148&amp;amp;sid=4852452"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. If you watch the video, you'll see Claudia Perry wearing my fashionable green scarf. Doesn't that color look great on her? Also, just for the record, you should know that Brad's sister who is talking with the red jacket isn't Valerie at all. It's his other sister, Nan. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It wouldn't be right for me to end tonight without also thanking all of you who read last night's post and left a comment or talked to me today giving me encouragement. Wouldn't you know that within minutes of coming home, Taylor Simpson announced to me that she was done talking to me for the night. I didn't know if I should be relieved or disappointed. It turns out out though, that she made some inaccurate remarks. She talked to me after she got some food and a little stop at the Goodwill. I even got a hug and an air kiss after dinner. Unfortunately, that's when I noticed that she was only about an inch shorter than me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe this weekend when I have some more time and energy, I'll try to grow a little. &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/2622010290556427840-3961319284113238312?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/3961319284113238312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=3961319284113238312' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/3961319284113238312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/3961319284113238312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/everybodys-working-for-weekend.html' title='Everybody&apos;s Working For the Weekend'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSZJiVNUdQI/AAAAAAAAAKE/0NX-ycw3qCM/s72-c/5178_0L.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-8732433054978786335</id><published>2008-11-19T21:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T21:59:32.818-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What They Don't Tell You Before You Take The Baby Home...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SST6LjXr1lI/AAAAAAAAAJs/np5MvEFcNb8/s1600-h/Taylor+Simpson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 276px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SST6LjXr1lI/AAAAAAAAAJs/np5MvEFcNb8/s400/Taylor+Simpson.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270612540310410834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's a cute girl. Let's call her Taylor Simpson. Taylor Simpson was an adorable little baby. She was the apple of her parents' eyes. She was even tempered, loving and fun to be around.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SST6LFZlC6I/AAAAAAAAAJk/SvRRd4P8iQA/s1600-h/Esther+Simpson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 329px; height: 352px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SST6LFZlC6I/AAAAAAAAAJk/SvRRd4P8iQA/s400/Esther+Simpson.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270612532265290658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's Taylor's Mom, Esther. She looks mostly put together, has priorities, has reasonable expectations for life and is willing to work hard to get what she wants and where she wants to be. She's about to be in for a rude awakening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SST6LOqKLhI/AAAAAAAAAJc/XWVvyU1WwZM/s1600-h/Daniel+Simpson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 215px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SST6LOqKLhI/AAAAAAAAAJc/XWVvyU1WwZM/s400/Daniel+Simpson.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270612534750752274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ahhh, this guy is Daniel Simpson. He's very deliberately chosen to be a part of this family. He loves Taylor and Esther Simpson. He is  smart, thoughtful, compassionate and the voice of reason. He also is willing to work hard, love always, and drive 5 hours a day to be with his family. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What they forgot to mention at the hospital is that after about 12 years of familial bliss, the baby turns into a pre-teen. That means that she thinks that she knows everything, that her parents can't make a reasonable decision, and that she is the most persecuted child in the universe. Despite her parents' mantras, "It isn't about me" and a lot of deep breathing, Taylor Simpson  manages to make her parents crazy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Only about 1960 days until she turns 18 and can escape her lame parents. I think she's already collecting moving boxes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-8732433054978786335?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/8732433054978786335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=8732433054978786335' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/8732433054978786335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/8732433054978786335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-they-dont-tell-you-before-you-take.html' title='What They Don&apos;t Tell You Before You Take The Baby Home...'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SST6LjXr1lI/AAAAAAAAAJs/np5MvEFcNb8/s72-c/Taylor+Simpson.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-2098463605996357568</id><published>2008-11-18T18:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T18:28:35.489-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One Big Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSN5tWISN9I/AAAAAAAAAJU/VDeswsZ9vC4/s1600-h/family+funeral.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 197px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSN5tWISN9I/AAAAAAAAAJU/VDeswsZ9vC4/s400/family+funeral.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270189808895014866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a picture of most of the family at the funeral. Whoever can leave a comment and name every person in the picture and where they live will win a sweet prize from me! Bonus points if you can tell me where they each slept the night before this picture was taken!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-2098463605996357568?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/2098463605996357568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=2098463605996357568' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/2098463605996357568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/2098463605996357568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/one-big-family.html' title='One Big Family'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSN5tWISN9I/AAAAAAAAAJU/VDeswsZ9vC4/s72-c/family+funeral.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-5715635379837927270</id><published>2008-11-17T19:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T19:55:29.586-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More Saturday Memories</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI7fedRKvI/AAAAAAAAAJM/j6__mW7rTQs/s1600-h/IMG_0934.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI7fedRKvI/AAAAAAAAAJM/j6__mW7rTQs/s400/IMG_0934.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269839925914708722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's Taylor with my cousin's daughter Dakota. The sun is lighting them up, and they are both so beautiful anyway...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI7fE6kzjI/AAAAAAAAAJE/Pss0vPQ9W2s/s1600-h/IMG_0933.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI7fE6kzjI/AAAAAAAAAJE/Pss0vPQ9W2s/s400/IMG_0933.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269839919058308658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My sister Laura, My brother Drew and My gal Angie again. So happy to be together again!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI7eljF0HI/AAAAAAAAAI8/NlDucm9qbxQ/s1600-h/IMG_0937.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI7eljF0HI/AAAAAAAAAI8/NlDucm9qbxQ/s400/IMG_0937.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269839910638309490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Grandmother's memorial. I don't know if you can read that poem, but it epitomized my Grandmother.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI7edf0LXI/AAAAAAAAAI0/hrtIFVpIbOs/s1600-h/IMG_0936.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI7edf0LXI/AAAAAAAAAI0/hrtIFVpIbOs/s400/IMG_0936.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269839908477087090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The "Grown Ups" of the family: My Mom, My Uncle Ron and my Aunt Suzi. They are all wearing beautiful leis because they grew up in Hawaii.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI7d3jwIQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/PUSrG30tcMs/s1600-h/IMG_0929.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI7d3jwIQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/PUSrG30tcMs/s400/IMG_0929.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269839898293051650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Cousins: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Standing: Dorothy, Eli, Caleb, Asa, Ali, Flower, April and Kara&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Front: Drew, Antje, Gerrit, Esther, Steve&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love this group- we're missing a few cousins, but this group managed to have a good time anyway. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-5715635379837927270?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/5715635379837927270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=5715635379837927270' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/5715635379837927270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/5715635379837927270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/more-saturday-memories.html' title='More Saturday Memories'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI7fedRKvI/AAAAAAAAAJM/j6__mW7rTQs/s72-c/IMG_0934.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-6925673039997950734</id><published>2008-11-17T19:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T19:42:15.643-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scenes From Last Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI4YiqF1eI/AAAAAAAAAIk/a2MGlUmW_Os/s1600-h/IMG_0926.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI4YiqF1eI/AAAAAAAAAIk/a2MGlUmW_Os/s320/IMG_0926.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269836508248266210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;One year my grandparents had a grandchild from each of their children! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are all the grandkids that were born in 1975: Flower, Steve, Kara and Caleb. I love them so much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI4YZ4DZRI/AAAAAAAAAIc/WncTkjNlu5g/s1600-h/IMG_0911.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI4YZ4DZRI/AAAAAAAAAIc/WncTkjNlu5g/s320/IMG_0911.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269836505890907410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My cousin Asa that is making me so proud, My Uncle Ron- who might be the world's coolest uncle. Only my brothers compete for that title, My cousin April, who has always been beautiful and hilarious, and my adorable little sister, Antje. She is my rock in life, and I love her sincerity and enthusiasm with which she approaches life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI4X6CFYsI/AAAAAAAAAIU/x5Y5bmQx_-M/s1600-h/IMG_0909.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI4X6CFYsI/AAAAAAAAAIU/x5Y5bmQx_-M/s320/IMG_0909.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269836497343046338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gwen who makes the world's best videos, Gerrit- my little brother who is not so little compared to me and is the best magician are talking to Newell and Claudia Perry- some of the most down to earth kindest people on earth. My fab sis Angie is right there. She always looks great, keeps it real and I wouldn't be caught without her on my side. I love those folks too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI4XqKaipI/AAAAAAAAAIM/JCRSw9mMRRQ/s1600-h/IMG_0907.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI4XqKaipI/AAAAAAAAAIM/JCRSw9mMRRQ/s320/IMG_0907.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269836493083019922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love Kelby, my niece. She is wearing my pearls, which match her fabulously and she is a child that mirrors my own soul. I adore her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI4XDYrPTI/AAAAAAAAAIE/pMKA20j0cbI/s1600-h/IMG_0902.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI4XDYrPTI/AAAAAAAAAIE/pMKA20j0cbI/s320/IMG_0902.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269836482673851698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My cousin's daughter, Cheyanne and Ellie, my niece. Those are some of the sweetest girls around! Look at that love!&lt;br /&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/2622010290556427840-6925673039997950734?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/6925673039997950734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=6925673039997950734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/6925673039997950734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/6925673039997950734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/scenes-from-last-week.html' title='Scenes From Last Week'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SSI4YiqF1eI/AAAAAAAAAIk/a2MGlUmW_Os/s72-c/IMG_0926.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-2883279949713978714</id><published>2008-11-17T18:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T19:30:03.249-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Award For Me??? Aww, shucks...</title><content type='html'>A huge shout-out to my sister, Beckie who has taken me by the hand and led me into the world of blogging. I'm not sure there is much I could ever do to repay her and even less I could ever teach her, let alone with the amount of patience and love she shows me when I call her and ask stupid questions. But she has kindly nominated me for a Superior Scribbler award, and I humbly accept. Thank you a million times over. And if any of you want to check out her blog at &lt;a href="http://hobbs-family.blogspot.com/"&gt;Hobbs Family&lt;/a&gt;, you should go over just to see my adorable nieces and nephews. I love those kids so much, I could burst. But that wouldn't be a pretty sight. But she always has some good things to say and to talk about. Also, she has another cool homeschooling site that she maintains. I don't know how she does it, but she does. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And so for my 5 nominees, I nominate:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://newmamainspain.blogspot.com/"&gt;Sarah&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sarah has been my friend since Taylor was in Kindergarten, since she was Taylor's Kindergarten Teacher. I have adored her since I first met her and have been so glad to call her friend ever since. I think she's a great new mom, and a Wild Thing too. I love her! If nothing else, go check out her cutiepatootie baby Arabella.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://kaleenamariagonzales.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kaleena&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kaleena is my cousin's cousin's daughter. But I call her family, and I've known her since before she was born. She's a great person, a fabulous photographer and I love her for her loyalty and her kindness to my crazy family. She's thoughtful, fun and has a fun feature on her blog on Wednesdays. Go check her out! Also, she has posted a picture she took of my dog, Louie next to my parents' dog, Matata last week. She's so kind to keep the dogs part of the family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://ajwharton77.blogspot.com/"&gt;Alicia&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alicia was Taylor's 4th grade teacher and director of _The Velveteen Rabbit_ that Taylor and Daniel practically starred in a few years ago. She is one of the bravest Moms I know- she packed up her and her cute daughter, Eve and went off to teach in Kiev, Ukraine for a year. How amazing is that??? Check out their adventures- her mullet posts are the best!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://moulenbelt.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jason Moulenbelt:&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jason's my crazy friend in Texas that is a paint-ball god, a philosophy professor and a darn good dad. His 2 boys are always entertaining and he's always posting interesting things on that site. I've known Jason for a long time, and he still makes me laugh out loud.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and finally:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://aagard7.blogspot.com/"&gt;Camille&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I nominate her, even though she requires people to log in to see her work and she hasn't posted since the end of July, because if you could read what she writes, it would make you laugh and cry and just get to know her like I've had the honor to. She is one of the most beautiful, talented people I know and I am so proud of her. I love her, I love her fabulous children (all 5 of them), and I love her humility, her constant passion to learn is an example to me always. I will be forever indebted to her for driving with 4 children for 2 hours to come and sing at Grandma Joyce's funeral. I've loved her for 20 years and I consider her one of my soulmates and someone I will know forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are the rules for this award:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass &lt;a href="http://scholastic-scribe.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Award &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy Friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author and the name of the blog from whom they have received The Award.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on their blog, and link to &lt;a href="http://scholastic-scribe.blogspot.com/2008/10/200-this-blings-for-you.html"&gt;This Post,&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;which explains The Award.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on their blog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit this post and add their name to the &lt;a href="http://scholastic-scribe.blogspot.com/2008/10/200-this-blings-for-you.html"&gt;Mr. Linky List&lt;/a&gt;. That way, we'll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives This Prestigious Honor!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/2622010290556427840-2883279949713978714?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/2883279949713978714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=2883279949713978714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/2883279949713978714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/2883279949713978714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/award-for-me-aww-shucks.html' title='An Award For Me??? Aww, shucks...'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-1288314185316786903</id><published>2008-11-16T21:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T21:25:50.424-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Home is the Sailor</title><content type='html'>I'm so tired. I'm home from Brigham City. I must go to sleep. More tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-1288314185316786903?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/1288314185316786903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=1288314185316786903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/1288314185316786903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/1288314185316786903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/home-is-sailor.html' title='Home is the Sailor'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-785344056528043701</id><published>2008-11-15T18:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T18:55:14.718-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brigham City Day 6</title><content type='html'>Today was Grandma Joyce's funeral. *big sigh*&lt;br /&gt;It was a perfect type of funeral. I saw some dear friends there. Thank you to everybody who came, especially Suzanne and Camille. I love those ladies.&lt;br /&gt;My huge family gathering is still going strong, it's 8 PM, and I need to gather my things and pack so I can leave early in the morning to come home. I just wanted to check in. More photos, etc. in a few days when I have a moment to unpack and calm down.&lt;br /&gt;I'm leaving for California EARLY tomorrow morning. Sweet dreams to all, and to all my family who is already out of here, and those I won't be seeing tomorrow, a big hug, kiss and LOVE to you all!!!!&lt;br /&gt;To those who are just my friends and casual readers: Thanks for hanging in there with me this week. And to Daniel, who might have time to read this: I love you and I'll see you LATE tomorrow night! XOXOXO(for Daniel).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-785344056528043701?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/785344056528043701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=785344056528043701' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/785344056528043701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/785344056528043701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/brigham-city-day-6.html' title='Brigham City Day 6'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-8743440863025226357</id><published>2008-11-14T21:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T22:20:09.231-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brigham City Day 5</title><content type='html'>I got some good sleep last night. Tay and I slept in the car with Louie. And I'm not joking. It was GREAT! We slept until 8:30! When I got out and went in for breakfast, I discovered that our old family friend's the Guzman's had arrived. There was 3 of them here now too.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We buried Grandma's and Grandpa's ashes today. I have a million pictures that I have taken that will just have to be downloaded later, because I never have any time, and it's always so late when I get in here finally to type. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, my great brothers Eli and Gerrit arrived! I love them! Also my cousin Steve and his wife Lisa and their 3 kids arrived. Apparently my little sister, Antje arrived tonight but she's in SLC staying with my great brother and sis-in-law Drew and Laura. I can't WAIT to see them and their cute little baby Brayden tomorrow!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had a great time as cousins putting together a poster of Grandma Joyce's pictures from her life. I love my family so much. As we did it, we told Asa that we'd each pay him $2 if he "accidentally" spilled some water on my Mom. It was hilarious! But a few of my cousins still owe him a few bucks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My cousins and I sat around the chiminea tonight and laughed and hugged and loved each other. My great brother Caleb was there. I watched him pick up his cousin's exhausted 2 year old tonight and gently and sweetly put her to sleep. A task that nobody else could seem to accomplish.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not joking or exagerating when I tell you that it's a full house and a lot of energy and fun around here. I'm so tired and yet I'm so happy being together. And you know what? I think that Grandma Joyce would be having a ball with all this family and energy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today the Perry's Murder Trial heard back from their jury. Guilty in the 1st Degree on all 4 accounts. Here's a &lt;a href="http://www.sltrib.com/News/ci_10985239"&gt;link&lt;/a&gt; to find out the latest news. On the last day I was there, during the Closing Arguments, I gave Claudia Perry my green scarf to wear, because she kept being so cold and shaking. But it was nerves, not the temperature. I put it around her with a hug and told her that now she'd be fashionable while she was cold. Also, I figured that it would be easier to hold it up over her face when it was hard to watch what was going on. Today my Mom sent me a message from Claudia that she clung to that scarf so hard and she just couldn't give it back until all the court events were over. I want Claudia to know that I want her to have that green scarf and that it is my hug around her when I'm not there. I want her to cling to it and to know it comes with free angels around her and her family too. I love that Perry family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Must take my daughter and my dog to sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sweet dreams.&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/2622010290556427840-8743440863025226357?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/8743440863025226357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=8743440863025226357' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/8743440863025226357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/8743440863025226357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/brigham-city-day-5.html' title='Brigham City Day 5'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-4053779850573725967</id><published>2008-11-13T20:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T20:51:29.149-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brigham City Day 4</title><content type='html'>Ok. I'm so tired tonight I can hardly type. This morning at 5 AM, my sweet niece Kelby came in to whisper in my ear, "Auntie Esther, can I sleep with you?" Of course she could, and of course there was no sleeping after that moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I get to sleep in a room with them and my wonderful cousin Kara and her wonderful daughter Olivia. Kara and her sister April arrived today and so did my other cousin, Alisha and her dad, Uncle Marc. I haven't seen Alisha in forever, and I adore her. One time when we were just young kids, and she was about 15 and I was about 22, Ali asked me to teach her how to drive. Of course I would do that for her! So we headed out to the back field, and of course as I said, "Brake!" she accelerated. And then I said, "Watch out for that blackberry bramble and post!" and she hit it. We had a lot of explaining to do to Aunt Suzi when she got back home and I believe Ali has been paying for a new bumper since then. So if you know how old I am, you know how long she's been paying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOT 50 YEARS, KALEENA!!! More like 25. or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, my sweet little brother, Caleb came home tonight! I love him and adore him. We got to go to the Stake Center and watch him become a High Priest tonight because he's going to be a High Council Member. I think that means he is destined to give talks every Sunday from now until eternity.  Maybe, they have to be long, boring talks. I'm not sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went back to court today to be with the Perry's  while they had closing arguments and then the jury went out to deliberate. It was another heart wrenching experience, and I was glad to be there with the group. Today, as we left the court house, I rode down the elevator with the accused man's mother. What do you say to someone in that situation? Luckily, Aunt Suzi was there and she admired her necklace. As we left, I put my arm around her and told her that my thoughts and prayers were with her and her family. Because I can't imagine how it would feel to be her and that family and live with that potential agony. Like I said, Angels need to be surrounding everyone in that court room. If you want to read more about, check it out &lt;a href="http://deseretnews.com/article/1,5143,705262772,00.html?pg=2"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night, dear readers. I must go find several little children to snuggle with tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-4053779850573725967?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/4053779850573725967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=4053779850573725967' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/4053779850573725967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/4053779850573725967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/brigham-city-day-4.html' title='Brigham City Day 4'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-2972144104492846596</id><published>2008-11-12T20:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T21:09:16.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brigham City Day 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRuyuZblW8I/AAAAAAAAAH0/7f7fvAQH2LM/s1600-h/Joyce+Henly+%28Cross%29+1945+Senior+Pic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 287px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRuyuZblW8I/AAAAAAAAAH0/7f7fvAQH2LM/s400/Joyce+Henly+%28Cross%29+1945+Senior+Pic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268000699310234562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Grandma Joyce's Senior Picture. She went to Soquel High School by my house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRuyuKUor6I/AAAAAAAAAHs/RlftLynKrT0/s1600-h/Joyce+photo+collage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 273px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRuyuKUor6I/AAAAAAAAAHs/RlftLynKrT0/s400/Joyce+photo+collage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268000695254560674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My Grandma  was a hottie! Here she is with one of her children on the beach.&lt;br /&gt;Probably in Hawaii where they lived when it was still a territory. One thing I love about&lt;br /&gt;my grandma is that she worked at the leper colony on Molokai, Hawaii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRuyt6pjv5I/AAAAAAAAAHk/8wZA8NLD8Ho/s1600-h/Will+and+Joyce+1995+50th+anniv1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 272px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRuyt6pjv5I/AAAAAAAAAHk/8wZA8NLD8Ho/s400/Will+and+Joyce+1995+50th+anniv1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268000691047350162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My Grandma Joyce was celebrating 50 years of marriage with my Grandpa in this picture. They were long years and had a lot of rough times and some good times, but they were an example in endurance and working to get better with time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRuytsLroWI/AAAAAAAAAHc/1aOtcU5Di40/s1600-h/Joyce+and+Kids1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 319px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRuytsLroWI/AAAAAAAAAHc/1aOtcU5Di40/s400/Joyce+and+Kids1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268000687163941218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My Grandma Joyce with all 4 of her children: Kathleen, Ron, Dora (dark dress) and Suzi (the baby). Circa 1953.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember yesterday when I told you I was so sleepy. I'm beyond that tonight. I'm emotionally tired, physically tired, and unfortunately, there is no end in sight. Today more people arrived to stay at my Mom's house. My darling sister-in-law Angie and her adorable 3 girls and my wonderful cousin, Flower, whom we realized I haven't seen for 11 years. How sad is that? I _LOVE_ Flower, whom I sometimes call Mildred Olson. I adore her. And tomorrow even more are expected to arrive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember last week when I told you my heart was aching to be with my parents and their friends who were having troubles? Remember I was longing for the seasons? I've seen a lot of snow this week. I've seen a lot of fallen leaves. I know about seasons again, and I can tell you this: They can be cold. They can also be gray. And I got my last week's wish: Today I went with my Mom and our dear family friends to court in Logan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was awed and amazed to have the privilege of being with the Perry Family today in court. Their family member, Brad Perry was murdered 24 years ago, and finally, thanks to the right people in the right places at the right time, and DNA testing, there has been a crack in the case. And so they've been spending every Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday in court all day long. I know it cost at least one of them their employment. And one of them has been laid off during this time. And here was the amazing part: They are a close knit family, who display love and kindness to each other and to those around them. Including the accused man's family. Today I was introduced to his mother and she was indeed very nice. And they recognize that it must be horrible to be where she is. And I met his ex-wife. And I ate lunch with Brad's parents and siblings and I wondered how they do it every day. How can they face this, and here's what I realized: They do it gracefully and full of strength because they have to. They wouldn't choose to be anywhere else right now. And they have a lot of people there backing them up. Remember when I sent them angels? They have visible angels in the court room supporting them.&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow are closing comments and then at noon the jury will begin deliberations. I hope for justice to be served.  If you want more information about this, check it out &lt;a href="http://www.deseretnews.com/article/1,5143,705259642,00.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://boxelder.uber.matchbin.com/pages/full_story?article-State-rests-defense-presents-witnesses-in-murder-trial%20=&amp;amp;page_label=home_top_stories_news&amp;amp;id=556125-State-rests-defense-presents-witnesses-in-murder-trial&amp;amp;widget=push&amp;amp;instance=home_news_2nd_left&amp;amp;open=&amp;amp;"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must go to sleep. Thanks for enduring with me this week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-2972144104492846596?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/2972144104492846596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=2972144104492846596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/2972144104492846596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/2972144104492846596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/brigham-city-day-3.html' title='Brigham City Day 3'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRuyuZblW8I/AAAAAAAAAH0/7f7fvAQH2LM/s72-c/Joyce+Henly+%28Cross%29+1945+Senior+Pic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-6790183272663070629</id><published>2008-11-11T20:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T20:47:50.070-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brigham City Day 2</title><content type='html'>I am so tired I almost couldn't rouse myself from my bed to walk downstairs and type this. But Taylor encouraged me to keep my commitment, and so here I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm just too tired to download the pictures of the urns I took today. And the pictures of Louie the dog who was taken to the dog beauty salon today and has a cute little bandana on him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a nice talk with my cousin today about control issues. Mainly mine. Who knew I was so tightly wound when it comes to control? Well, most of you, probably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember last week when I wrote that I was wanting to be here to see the seasons and to help support my Mom and her friend? Well, tomorrow I am going to spend the whole day in court with them. We'll see how I'm doing after that. Also, my cousin Flower will be here tomorrow night and I can't wait to see her. I used to call her Mildred Olson. And I was Mildred Olson's Cousin Friend. Good memories.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-6790183272663070629?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/6790183272663070629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=6790183272663070629' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/6790183272663070629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/6790183272663070629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/brigham-city-day-2.html' title='Brigham City Day 2'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-2716546275066776036</id><published>2008-11-10T21:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T21:24:31.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brigham City Day 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRkUw00qp9I/AAAAAAAAAHU/T5zYxW09VmM/s1600-h/christmascookieroundupblog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 305px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRkUw00qp9I/AAAAAAAAAHU/T5zYxW09VmM/s400/christmascookieroundupblog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267264068232325074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the &lt;a href="http://qdpatooties.blogspot.com/2008/11/2nd-annual-christmas-cookie-recipe.html"&gt;link&lt;/a&gt; if you'd like to join in the fun for the 2nd Annual Cookie Roundup.&lt;br /&gt;And who wouldn't want to join a cookie roundup?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends, I've had to fight for the computer time tonight. I love myself an Aunt Suzi and a big family, but what the heck is up with no wi-fi in Brigham City, Utah????&lt;br /&gt;But here's the good news: Cousin Dorothy informed me today that there is a Starbucks in Brigham City now. But we don't know if it's open yet. What the heck?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?&lt;br /&gt;This could change my entire relationship with coming home to BC. Wow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I got to go to the mortuary today and help edit programs, and talk about the upcoming memorial service. I got to kiss Grandma Joyce goodbye. And I got to go to the Urn room to go shopping. I'm not sure what is the best urn for you, but if you ever look for urns for me, please do not choose the Casino/ Gambling Urn. You think I'm joking, but I'm not. Kaleena is sitting next to me and she did an internship at the mortuary and she is confirming this. She knows I speak truth. Or at least am typing it. Words escape me. And then there were the stories of urns and ashes gone wrong. This experience was almost up there with the curling of the hair story, but it was a story for a future happy hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am exhausted and need my rest. I'll try to get more computer time tomorrow. Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-2716546275066776036?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/2716546275066776036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=2716546275066776036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/2716546275066776036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/2716546275066776036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/brigham-city-day-1.html' title='Brigham City Day 1'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRkUw00qp9I/AAAAAAAAAHU/T5zYxW09VmM/s72-c/christmascookieroundupblog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-808953824616661401</id><published>2008-11-09T05:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T05:22:44.124-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandma Joyce</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRbkErWo9JI/AAAAAAAAAHM/NlN05xLfrVo/s1600-h/Joyce+and+her+paintings.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRbkErWo9JI/AAAAAAAAAHM/NlN05xLfrVo/s400/Joyce+and+her+paintings.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266647583264666770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, my Grandma Joyce passed away. She was the type of grandma who was a rascal, and who had a spring in her step. She was loved, but it was time for her to go. I'm posting now, in the spirit of posting once a day, but I have to get on the road in order to get home and spend some time with my family this week. Thanks for all your support and best wishes, friends and family!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-808953824616661401?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/808953824616661401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=808953824616661401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/808953824616661401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/808953824616661401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/grandma-joyce.html' title='Grandma Joyce'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRbkErWo9JI/AAAAAAAAAHM/NlN05xLfrVo/s72-c/Joyce+and+her+paintings.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-9046365309467226307</id><published>2008-11-08T22:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T22:04:39.201-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's late at night, my friends, and I have to get up and drive to Brigham City, Utah tomorrow at 5 AM. I need my sleep. But I have committed to making 30 posts in 30 days, so I will sign this and then go to bed. Hopefully I'll have a chance to write again tomorrow, but for now, I'm asking for others to send me good karma to get across the wintry desert and mountains tomorrow on my pilgrimmage home. And my love to my family who's also on their way to Utah. I love them so much and can't wait to see you all. What memories lie ahead of us...I can't wait! If you're in Utah, keep the roads clear for me.&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sweet dreams, all!&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/2622010290556427840-9046365309467226307?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/9046365309467226307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=9046365309467226307' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/9046365309467226307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/9046365309467226307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-late-at-night-my-friends-and-i-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-655554414235002215</id><published>2008-11-07T20:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T20:44:06.696-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Families are Forever</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRURLi6u8bI/AAAAAAAAAHE/zIQQi2QYU-0/s1600-h/IMG_1012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRURLi6u8bI/AAAAAAAAAHE/zIQQi2QYU-0/s400/IMG_1012.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266134229329047986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;What a good-looking bunch! I'd try to label this picture, but I'm not sure I could keep track of everyone. However, if you can name everyone in this picture, then you know you're part of my family, especially if you aren't in the picture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I've talked to my cousin Dorothy no fewer than 10 times tonight, because she's keeping vigil with my Grandma Joyce, and I'm trying to be there with her and with my Grandma on the phone since I'm 1000 miles away.  I got to talk to my Dad's cousin on the phone tonight for a few moments and realized that even though I've never called him and even though I've spoken to him exactly three times in the past 20 years, we still have a love and a bond that being a family creates. This week I heard from a cousin that I've only ever met once, and again, there was a bond between us because we're family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And here's what I know for sure right now:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;That families are forever. That in spite of spats, politics, quarrels, burnt dinners, and the messiness of life, my family will be there for me to love me, to laugh with me, to hold me up, to support me, and to help me. I know that we will all be there for each other whenever and however we need it. And heaven help you if you're adopted, related or married into this crew because we're going to be there for you too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Dorothy and I were talking about why our family is so fiercely loving and what makes some of us come around more often than others. I'm not sure I know, though I'm pretty sure I used to think I knew. But the best part of my family is this: We're here for you, even when you're not here. We're ready to love you with big open arms and bossy mouths and lots of love whenever you do come around. And we're going to keep on doing this forever, because we don't just like you all- we love you all.&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 sending you all love tonight, family. I'm sending you each angels to surround you and keep your hearts and souls safe. I'm sending you all the blessing that you will each get exactly what you need right now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-655554414235002215?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/655554414235002215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=655554414235002215' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/655554414235002215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/655554414235002215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/families-are-forever.html' title='Families are Forever'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRURLi6u8bI/AAAAAAAAAHE/zIQQi2QYU-0/s72-c/IMG_1012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-2963649067444060021</id><published>2008-11-06T20:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T20:49:33.835-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sending out Angels and Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRPI0a1AWQI/AAAAAAAAAG8/6gb-XgiAFWo/s1600-h/IMG_2836.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRPI0a1AWQI/AAAAAAAAAG8/6gb-XgiAFWo/s400/IMG_2836.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265773192206637314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to my Mom and Dad tonight. I miss home a lot, and I wish I were there tonight to be with them, to go to the cousin reunion tomorrow, to feel the cold air and smell the fall leaves. I wish I could hug them and kiss them goodnight tonight and take away some of the sorrow and anguish from their hearts. And since I cannot be with them, I pray for angels to be above them, angels below them, angels on either side of them, angels to be in front of them, and in back of them. I pray for angels to surround their dear friends who have shown me and my family such unconditional love and support. I am sending them all the love and comfort to heal their wounds, especially since they are old ones with fresh surfaces. I love those families, and my heart is with them. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But since I'm not going to make it to my hometown tonight to give my love and hugs I will send out a blessing to them through the lyrics of one of my favorite songs, and since I did talk to my dear friend Camille tonight, and she sounded like she lives at Chuck E. Cheese, and in spite of it all still finds time to share her thoughts and heart with me, I will send out the lyrics to one of the songs from her album when she was in the fabulous group, "Providence". I hope you won't sue me for using your lyrics here to send my loved ones a blessing of peace. If you ever have a chance to hear them sing this song, you will understand the deep emotions that go with this beautiful song, _Rest in You_:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-style: italic; font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Grace, this world's sweetest fragrance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Poured out at the highest cost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Like heaven's holy offer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Draws each weary woul unto the cross&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I will rest in you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I will rest in you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Not just when this race is over&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;In these earthly moments too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I will rest in you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Hope, shining every moment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Like Eden's dawn upon the sea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Peace, like the gentle breezes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;That brush the snowy flocks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;On hills of green&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Oh, great and gracious one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;For all my days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;For all you've done&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can check them out at: &lt;a href="http://providencethegroup.com/"&gt;http://providencethegroup.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And for the record, Camille: I am always so proud of you. And I will always celebrate your joys and achievements. Thank you for being my friend all these years.&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/2622010290556427840-2963649067444060021?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/2963649067444060021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=2963649067444060021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/2963649067444060021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/2963649067444060021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/sending-out-angels-and-love.html' title='Sending out Angels and Love'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRPI0a1AWQI/AAAAAAAAAG8/6gb-XgiAFWo/s72-c/IMG_2836.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-6000409765076190623</id><published>2008-11-05T21:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T22:07:08.767-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Seasons</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRKHnQCDNUI/AAAAAAAAAG0/tzVTS00yeZo/s1600-h/IMG_2757.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRKHnQCDNUI/AAAAAAAAAG0/tzVTS00yeZo/s400/IMG_2757.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265420022737745218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pumpkin Time!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRKHnIj9NMI/AAAAAAAAAGs/R4Sj0Lnj2kI/s1600-h/IMG_2754.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRKHnIj9NMI/AAAAAAAAAGs/R4Sj0Lnj2kI/s400/IMG_2754.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265420020732474562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love different varieties of gourds! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's pretty safe to say that we're in the fall season here. The weather has changed, every once in awhile, you see trees with different colors. The poison ivy is a definite red and the daylight hours are few. I love seasonal changes. I was just getting tired of so many perfect days, lovely weather, lots of the same old, same old. Now, we've had some windy, blustery, rainy days and all I want to do is hurry home and get cozy with my family. I want to curl up on the couch and watch the palm trees sway with the wind gusts and read a book with a nice cup of tea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pretty soon, I'll long for a few pieces of pumpkin pie and then I'll tire of that and want to decorate with familiar things that make me think of cold, snowy days. (But of course, I'll get none of those here) And after that I'll get sick of being at home cooped up all the time and long for signs of life outside and go outside and find spring arriving. And just when I can't believe it, we'll hit the lazy days of summer. Summertime brings the long days filled with family, fun and a certain degree of boredom. And then I'll pine for the yummy smell of fresh notebooks and freshly sharpened pencils and the thrill of new school supplies and uniforms. And pretty soon it will be fall again and I'll start the cycle all over again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only part that is particularly difficult for me, is that the seasons here are very subtle. And summer days are filled with dense fog and sweaters. It is a little disconcerting to my seasonal soul, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the meantime, my mouth is beginning to water for some yummy sweet potato pie and stuffing. Mmmmm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-6000409765076190623?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/6000409765076190623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=6000409765076190623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/6000409765076190623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/6000409765076190623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/seasons.html' title='Seasons'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRKHnQCDNUI/AAAAAAAAAG0/tzVTS00yeZo/s72-c/IMG_2757.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-6974984358179252006</id><published>2008-11-04T21:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T22:11:07.157-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Steps Forward, One Step Back</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRE32xFvpKI/AAAAAAAAAGk/DxFHtcX6w80/s1600-h/IMG_2838.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRE32xFvpKI/AAAAAAAAAGk/DxFHtcX6w80/s400/IMG_2838.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265050853402715298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRE32vQnINI/AAAAAAAAAGc/i6b7n6uh-Gs/s1600-h/IMG_2837.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRE32vQnINI/AAAAAAAAAGc/i6b7n6uh-Gs/s400/IMG_2837.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265050852911423698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Some hopeful flowers that have nothing to do with voting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Unless you had some sort of passion flower initiative on your ballot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I suppose nobody checks here for breaking news. Because I'm pretty sure you have to have been living under a rock not to notice who our President Elect is. Did anybody tune back in at 8:01 and gasp when they saw that all the networks called the election moments after the polls closed on the west coast? It was surreal looking at the words, "Barack Obama 44th President" on the screen. After the initial few moments of shock, I teared up. I was not alone. I think that most people did, if you voted for him, you were thrilled. If you didn't, you probably teared up and were scared. I've lurked on other blogs and read the frightening comments that people left because they are convinced that Obama will bring about the end of the world. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So some advice to those of you who have cold fear creeping across your heart and feel paralyzed with fear from someone who's been there since the beginning of the century: Breathe. Breathe again. Just keep doing that for the next four years and you'll get through it. It will be tough sometimes. You might shake your head every morning during breaking news on the Today Show and wonder if you should move to Canada. (Note: It's tough to get in these days. Australia's just as hard.) You'll make it my friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went to an election party tonight with my dear friends. They are my family away from family, and I had a great time. For a certain someone who loves his privacy, I will declare it here: You are forgiven my friend. I'm glad you got to celebrate your last US election. But I hope you have many more in your future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sadly, the Proposition 8 ballot measure is too close to call tonight. My heart is breaking for many dear friends who will have rights stripped away from them, or who will never get to exercise the rights of those who went before them. We won't forget, and we won't give up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So many of you went with  me to vote- and even Daniel who whispered, "What did you get for number 7?" next to  me while voting- I'm proud to say I voted. And that I got Starbucks coffee today. Mmmm, election caffeine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love you all madly!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-6974984358179252006?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/6974984358179252006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=6974984358179252006' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/6974984358179252006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/6974984358179252006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/two-steps-forward-one-step-back.html' title='Two Steps Forward, One Step Back'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SRE32xFvpKI/AAAAAAAAAGk/DxFHtcX6w80/s72-c/IMG_2838.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-6648005078730075516</id><published>2008-11-03T19:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T20:06:22.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>'Twas the Night Before Elections and All Through The House...</title><content type='html'>Tonight at dinner, Taylor announced that if she could vote tomorrow she would vote for McCain. I tried to refrain from telling her that she should plan on spending Christmas elsewhere, while Daniel calmly said, "Oh really? Why is that?"&lt;div&gt;Taylor replied that it seemed that John had more experience. Also, since he was so old, he was sure to die soon and so we'd get our first female president, Sarah &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Palin&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Daniel asked her very matter of fact-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ly&lt;/span&gt;, "Do you think she's the right woman to be the first president, though?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At about this point, she confessed that she was just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;messin&lt;/span&gt;' around. Also, that it was OK for Daniel to put the Barack Obama Change sign in our yard. There's nothing like advertising your politics in the dark, rainy yard the night before election day, is there?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When it comes down to it, tonight is the last night you could go to sleep undecided in this country. Tomorrow is the big day- the day that politicians have been working for now going on 2 years. Remember last year when Iowans had campaign ads for the Holidays? We're at our defining moment in this nation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The news out of both major campaigns today gave me pause- Sarah &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Palin&lt;/span&gt; has been cleared in Trooper Gate. And Barack &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Obama's&lt;/span&gt; grandmother who raised him died the day before election day. I hope she voted absentee. But does your vote still count if you die before election day?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My family is almost divided down the middle when it comes to politics. My parents always told us they voted for the candidate rather than the party. But these days, it's hard to differentiate between the two. I can count on one hand all the Republicans that I know of in my family. I can count on the other all the known Democrats. And I can count on one foot all the unknowns- the people who have managed to keep their politics to themselves. And I'm proud of my family that we can all talk about our political positions, have great differences and still hug each other good night and laugh with one another. I have deep respect for my family who  have looked into their hearts and vote their consciences, even when it differs from mine. I'm going to try to be that magnanimous tomorrow night as I watch election results rolling in. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Keep the faith, my friends!  Remember that the beauty of freedom only works when you exercise it. Don't forget to vote- and don't be afraid to report any voting irregularities to: &lt;a href="http://www.libertytreefdr.org/"&gt;http://www.libertytreefdr.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As an added incentive, don't forget that Starbucks will proudly give you a free cup of coffee tomorrow if you go in and tell them you voted. And I'll send you a little something special if you leave a comment for me along with your email address if you tell me you voted. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-6648005078730075516?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/6648005078730075516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=6648005078730075516' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/6648005078730075516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/6648005078730075516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/twas-night-before-elections-and-all.html' title='&apos;Twas the Night Before Elections and All Through The House...'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-5181675781738459922</id><published>2008-11-02T12:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T15:53:02.818-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Not To Wear, and Why We Should Care</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ4bfMCojAI/AAAAAAAAAGU/F2N80j0A9xo/s1600-h/IMG_2805.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ4bfMCojAI/AAAAAAAAAGU/F2N80j0A9xo/s400/IMG_2805.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264175237064854530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Stacy begging, "Please, buy the best quality you can afford- not a lot of cheap things that don't work for us and that don't last. Please, Esther- accessorize to add punch to your wardrobe!"&lt;/span&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;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ4beOe3E3I/AAAAAAAAAGE/BOQizlsluoI/s1600-h/IMG_2799.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ4beOe3E3I/AAAAAAAAAGE/BOQizlsluoI/s400/IMG_2799.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264175220540248946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Stacy wants you! to keep your body shape balanced! It is amazing to behold the miracle that occurs when you do!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ4bd0avlWI/AAAAAAAAAF8/2-bvbS1HkyM/s1600-h/IMG_2798.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ4bd0avlWI/AAAAAAAAAF8/2-bvbS1HkyM/s400/IMG_2798.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264175213543658850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Look at those shoes! And see how she's wearing brown, black and navy bracelets all at the same time? You can wear any neutrals together!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stacy London has had a hard year. Her cat is sick, she turned 39 and isn't married and doesn't have kids, she quit smoking and gained weight so that her wardrobe didn't fit, and her boyfriend broke her heart. She confessed to coming home and (gasp!) wearing sweats!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear ones, even as I type, I am wearing my most comfortable, favorite sweat outfit. It's my black walking pants, my white &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tshirt&lt;/span&gt; and my red zipper &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hoodie&lt;/span&gt;. If I could own a zipper &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hoodie&lt;/span&gt; in every color and wear them daily, I would. You know I'm comfy right now. But here's the point: I feel cozy, but I don't feel my best. I think there's a time and a place for feeling cozy, but not all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that when trouble strikes, the first thing we let go of is taking care of ourselves? Because we have a deeper confidence in ourselves than our appearances. We know that we are loved and are loving and sometimes we just don't have time to make sure we fix ourselves up before we fix others up. Recently, it was all I could do to not take Daniel to the ER in my flannel sock monkey pajamas. And it was a small miracle that I changed my pants barely before I walked out the door. But there have been times when I've gone to the closet and had 4 hours to get ready and to look my best and I don't know where to start. Not just because I don't fit into any of my clothes. Not just because I am not sure what to where and how to wear it. But because in my heart  I feel as though there is a disconnect between my body and my soul. So I go with comfort and I go with cozy, but I know it isn't the best of looks for me, and I therefore come home and feel bad about myself so that the next time I go to my closet I start on the same cycle. And before you know it, I'm 39 too, and have no idea how to dress myself and feel good about myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We heard from women in the room who were recovering from breast cancer, who were post-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;partum&lt;/span&gt;, women who were beautiful and fun and smart, but who had lost themselves for one reason or another and who, though they were beautiful, just didn't feel it and believe it. They were women who had lost their style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's the thing: It's not about fashion. It's about style and knowing myself well enough to show my style- not just in my words and actions, but also in my clothing and my hair. I'm not joking when I tell you that for about 15 years I've only owned dresses in black, navy blue and tan. And guess what color my accents are? Black and white, basically. When I've been feeling particularly perky sometimes I throw a splash of pink or green in there, but usually, I wear your basic neutrals and go about my business. And I do this for a few reasons: Because I don't know how to dress all the time to look the way I want to feel. And because I sometimes just don't feel up to dressing any other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Stacy had some good ideas on how to change this cycle in yourself. First you need to love yourself. We're all good enough, and our bodies should not be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;seperate&lt;/span&gt; from our minds and our hearts. Work with what you have and then go out and get what you need is what she says. Know yourself well enough to know what you want and need. As a preschool professional, the 6 inch heels that she was wearing are NOT practical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you do about those blouses that just won't close around the girls? What should you do about the pants that fit great all over but are too long? YOU GO TO A TAILOR. It makes your clothes fit you right and makes you more comfortable in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never buy an outfit without trying the items on. You must LOVE what you are buying. (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;OOooh&lt;/span&gt;! I hate this one, because nothing makes the body loathing come out stronger in me than going into a room with bad lighting and getting naked to find out the clothes don't fit. But apparently this eliminates the going home and discovering the same thing.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you do shop for clothes, shop for OUTFITS, not pieces. Then you always have a complete look instead of searching for something to wear with the item you just bought. (What????!! I have very rarely ever done this. I'm terrified of this idea, though it makes perfect sense. I vow to give it a go, Stacy!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Set aside TIME to shop. It doesn't matter how often. But if you  build time to shop into your schedule it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;wil&lt;/span&gt; help you avoid impulse shopping the day of or the day before an event. (Oh, wow. Another thing I've NEVER done. But I'm going to give it a try. Imagine actually enjoying getting ready, and not having panic every time I am going out.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, THERE IS NOTHING INDULGENT ABOUT TAKING TIME FOR YOURSELF. Feeling good about the way you look and what you wear shouldn't be a privilege; it's your right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So who's with me with this? Let's really discover our style and allow ourselves to play up our best selves!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ4bdTRvQuI/AAAAAAAAAF0/hXZA_N_ZKmw/s1600-h/IMG_2797.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ4bdTRvQuI/AAAAAAAAAF0/hXZA_N_ZKmw/s400/IMG_2797.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264175204647518946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Stacy says, "Why not play up your positives?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ4beuerhNI/AAAAAAAAAGM/Ge6aav32D0Q/s1600-h/IMG_2801.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ4beuerhNI/AAAAAAAAAGM/Ge6aav32D0Q/s400/IMG_2801.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264175229129426130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Diane, Kim and Stacy teaching me what TO wear! My idols!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-5181675781738459922?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/5181675781738459922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=5181675781738459922' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/5181675781738459922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/5181675781738459922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-not-to-wear-and-why-we-should-care.html' title='What Not To Wear, and Why We Should Care'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ4bfMCojAI/AAAAAAAAAGU/F2N80j0A9xo/s72-c/IMG_2805.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-474384621827418529</id><published>2008-11-01T18:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T18:54:35.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>30 Posts in 30 Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ0HauqOppI/AAAAAAAAAFs/SJ1ykpnkpns/s1600-h/IMG_2758.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ0HauqOppI/AAAAAAAAAFs/SJ1ykpnkpns/s400/IMG_2758.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263871695249122962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ0HZy_PpFI/AAAAAAAAAFk/yahCJ0T7BMw/s1600-h/IMG_2760.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ0HZy_PpFI/AAAAAAAAAFk/yahCJ0T7BMw/s400/IMG_2760.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263871679231140946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ0HZtI8QOI/AAAAAAAAAFc/3pq21fE5ZQQ/s1600-h/IMG_2753.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ0HZtI8QOI/AAAAAAAAAFc/3pq21fE5ZQQ/s400/IMG_2753.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263871677661200610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ0HZf7rs-I/AAAAAAAAAFU/gME4vvMK4QM/s1600-h/IMG_2785.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ0HZf7rs-I/AAAAAAAAAFU/gME4vvMK4QM/s400/IMG_2785.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263871674115929058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've heard it here first, folks. I'm going to take the 30 Posts in 30 Days Challenge.&lt;br /&gt;November's National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo), a marathon writing event where bloggers all over the world commit to 30 posts in 30 days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But right now, I'm late to go to the show, "Rat Pack". More on all of it later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-474384621827418529?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/474384621827418529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=474384621827418529' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/474384621827418529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/474384621827418529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/11/30-posts-in-30-days.html' title='30 Posts in 30 Days'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQ0HauqOppI/AAAAAAAAAFs/SJ1ykpnkpns/s72-c/IMG_2758.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-3396603692500981833</id><published>2008-10-27T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T21:26:00.555-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Live Your Best Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQaA3Rvwt0I/AAAAAAAAAEs/VPwm5AlfRCs/s1600-h/IMG_2818.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQaA3Rvwt0I/AAAAAAAAAEs/VPwm5AlfRCs/s400/IMG_2818.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262034901773891394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends, this past weekend, I had the most amazing experience! I attended the O You! Oprah Magazine Live Your Best Life Event in San Francisco. It was INCREDIBLE! And the best surprise was that Oprah made a surprise appearance! I learned so much from so many people that I admire...I was in heaven! And because it was so amazing, I thought I would share some what I learned here with you. Also, hopefully that will help me remember some of what I saw!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQaGUARvwDI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yYGait77kKc/s1600-h/IMG_2807.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQaGUARvwDI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yYGait77kKc/s200/IMG_2807.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262040892858941490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suze Orman was filled with emotion, you can imagine. She reminded us that, "Nobody's going to care about your money more than you do. If you aren't powerful with your money then you are not powerful. There is nobody to save us in these economic times except ourselves." She is predicting that our current economic woes will last until theyear 2015. So PAY DOWN YOUR DEBT, PAY YOUR BILLS ON TIME, and NEVER borrow from your 401K plan to pay your bills now. If you are under the age of 50 this stock market crisis is the most amazing thing that could happen to us! Invest in the market because our  money will be going further. However, if you're 10 years out until retirement, take all your money out of the stock market.&lt;br /&gt; The other plan that Suze really wants us all to know about is about a deal called "Save Yourself Plan" with Ameritrade. If you go online and open an account with Ameritrade and save at least $50 per month for 12 months, in the 13th month Ameritrade will deposit $100 to your account. It's a return rate you can't afford to miss out on. You can find more information about this great deal at: http://www.saveyourself.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter Walsh is the amazing guy who goes into homes that have so much stuff there is no place to sit down and helps the families who live in those environments to clean the clutter in their hearts and homes. He is hands down a miracle worker. His key was this: What is the vision you have for the life you want? What do you want FROM the space you are working on?&lt;br /&gt;This is especially a helpful way to talk about areas that you may share with other household members. He asked this profound question:&lt;br /&gt;If you don't create the life you want, who is going to do it? &lt;br /&gt;Whenever you want to buy something, ask yourself this, "Does this item move me closer to the Best Life I want for  myself?" he suggests that we all take the time to examine what we ahve and make sure all we have are the things that make our heart sing.  I don't know how  many of you have been to my house, but let me tell you this: It's approximately 900 square feet. There are 3 of us plus a gigantic black lab. My house is tight on space. But you know what he told me when I wanted to complain that there just wasn't enough space for everything? He said, "You only have the space you have. As tough as it sounds, if you're struggling with clutter you either have to move to a larger home or learn to make choices and live within the limits of your space."  His other tips were these:&lt;br /&gt;* Understand taht it's not always about 'The Stuff'. Don't be too hard on yourself. Recognize that the clutter is often a reflection of something deeper that might be troubling you. Dealing with the clutter can open up not only the physical space in your life, but also your emotional, psychological and spiritual spaces as well! You don't just declutter your home. You declutter your head, your heart and sometimes even your hips.&lt;br /&gt;*All clutter is not created equal. There are 2 main types of clutter- memory clutter (the stuff that reminds you of some important event, person or achievement from the past) and the "I might need it one day" clutter (T he stuff we hold onto iin the hope of using it sometime. Like my fondue pots. Or my silver chafing dish...). He reminded us that when ALL the stuff is important, none of it is. Honor and respect your strongest memories.&lt;br /&gt;His helpful hints:&lt;br /&gt;Stop Buying. Be gentle on yourself. Never let junk mail enter your house. You may have 3 magazine subscriptions and 3 back issues of each of them. Only 9 magazines in the house at a time. Mail needs to have a home. Receipts should be dropped into an expandable file and then switched out annually. If you don't know what to save for tax purposes, go to IRS.gov and look at document 552. It'll tell you what you need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could tell you  more about the wonderful things I learned from Marianne Williamson, the inspiring Story Corps speaker, and all the great sponsers, but remember when I promised that I wasn't going to get too wordy? (I know, I know, It's too late!)&lt;br /&gt;My next post however will be all about the amazing Stacy London from _What Not To Wear_ on TLC. She was THE BEST! &lt;br /&gt;My only sad moment was not getting to meet Martha Beck. I have admired her for so long and have read most of her books and I only got  a picture of her. Actually, and not getting to be with Nate Berkus. But I'll enclose some more pictures of them just for you now. Enjoy and Go Live Your Best Life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQaT1tO80eI/AAAAAAAAAFM/gA7N1wcbpSA/s1600-h/IMG_2833.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQaT1tO80eI/AAAAAAAAAFM/gA7N1wcbpSA/s400/IMG_2833.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262055765513654754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQaT1dYFmLI/AAAAAAAAAFE/PIde1HeQvx8/s1600-h/IMG_2808.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQaT1dYFmLI/AAAAAAAAAFE/PIde1HeQvx8/s400/IMG_2808.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262055761257011378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQaT1MXjjsI/AAAAAAAAAE8/FX843Ndmh4k/s1600-h/IMG_2795.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQaT1MXjjsI/AAAAAAAAAE8/FX843Ndmh4k/s400/IMG_2795.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262055756691377858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-3396603692500981833?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/3396603692500981833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=3396603692500981833' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/3396603692500981833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/3396603692500981833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/10/live-your-best-life.html' title='Live Your Best Life'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQaA3Rvwt0I/AAAAAAAAAEs/VPwm5AlfRCs/s72-c/IMG_2818.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-1194369684084939535</id><published>2008-10-27T07:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T07:42:53.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lighten Up, Already!</title><content type='html'>A dear friend called me the other day to ask if I was OK. I am. Apparently she had been reading my blog and was concerned about my ranting and raving. A dear relative emailed me and told me very kindly that my blog was a little too wordy to read. &lt;br /&gt;So here is something much lighter for now. As I was driving in Pebble Beach the other day to pick up Taylor from her soccer game, I was stunned by the beauty of the coastline. I pulled over and took these pictures for my blog with a special shoutout to Heidi. Welcome to California, Heidi and Family! May you be blessed with many beautiful hours of coastline splendor. For those of you who aren't so close to the ocean, this is for you too. I am so grateful that I live in such a beautiful place. I realize there are different beautiful nature-scapes, but this one made my heart sing. And that's what I'm all about these days. So, I hope these pictures make your heart sing too! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQXS3M_KCKI/AAAAAAAAAEk/lsBqyk42lb4/s1600-h/IMG_2774.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQXS3M_KCKI/AAAAAAAAAEk/lsBqyk42lb4/s400/IMG_2774.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261843585473054882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQXS2ftGiBI/AAAAAAAAAEc/yYcGgQf769g/s1600-h/IMG_2773.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQXS2ftGiBI/AAAAAAAAAEc/yYcGgQf769g/s400/IMG_2773.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261843573317732370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQXS2AKh2XI/AAAAAAAAAEU/YNjebyfR8RA/s1600-h/IMG_2772.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQXS2AKh2XI/AAAAAAAAAEU/YNjebyfR8RA/s400/IMG_2772.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261843564851222898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-1194369684084939535?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/1194369684084939535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=1194369684084939535' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/1194369684084939535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/1194369684084939535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/10/lighten-up-already.html' title='Lighten Up, Already!'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SQXS3M_KCKI/AAAAAAAAAEk/lsBqyk42lb4/s72-c/IMG_2774.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-8804435276679384858</id><published>2008-10-21T22:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T22:42:13.412-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Proposition 8</title><content type='html'>It seems that this proposition is generating a lot of chatter out in the world. I'm impressed by the rational and thoughtful arguments that have been made for both sides of the argument. Members of my family have been respectfullly debating this Proposition for the past week or so and I have been delighted to hear several viewpoints, thoughts and insights that they have shared. As such, I would like to submit a little history lesson (which I took from several internet sources, including wikipedia) coupled (no pun intended. I promise.) with my thoughts about this topic. I do not write this with the intent to offend or instigate. I  write this with the intent of providing a historical context and my thoughts on the issue.&lt;br /&gt;On May 15, 2008 the California Supreme Court, by a vote of 4–3, ruled that the statute enacted by Proposition 22 and other statutes that limit marriage to a relationship between a man and a woman violated the equal protection clause of the California Constitution. It also held that individuals of the same sex have the right to marry under the California Constitution.&lt;br /&gt;The nonpartisan League of Women Voters of California opposes Proposition 8 because "no person or group should suffer legal, economic or administrative discrimination."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let’s examine some of the statements that have been made regarding Proposition 8 and the Facts associated with them:&lt;br /&gt;Fiction: Prop 8 doesn’t discriminate against gays.&lt;br /&gt;Fact: Prop 8 is simple: it eliminates the rights for same-sex couples to marry. Prop 8 would deny equal protections and write discrimination against one group of people—lesbian and gay people—into our state constitution.&lt;br /&gt;Fiction: Teaching children about same-sex marriage will happen here unless we pass Prop 8.&lt;br /&gt;Fact: Not one word in Prop 8 mentions education, and no child can be forced, against the will of their parents, to be taught anything about health and family issues at school. California law prohibits it. California gives parents an absolute right to remove their kids and opt-out of teaching on health and family instruction they don’t agree with. &lt;br /&gt;Fiction: Churches could lose their tax-exemption status.&lt;br /&gt;Fact: Nothing in Prop 8 would force churches to do anything. In fact, the court decision regarding marriage specifically says “no religion will be required to change its religious policies or practices with regard to same-sex couples, and no religious officiant will be required to solemnize a marriage in contravention of his or her religious beliefs.”&lt;br /&gt;Fiction: Four Activist Judges in San Francisco…&lt;br /&gt;Fact: Prop 8 is not about courts and judges, it’s about eliminating a fundamental right. Judges didn’t grant the right, the constitution guarantees the right. This campaign is about whether Californians, right now, in 2008 are willing to amend the constitution for the sole purpose of eliminating a fundamental right for one group of citizens.&lt;br /&gt;Fiction: People can be sued over personal beliefs.&lt;br /&gt;Fact: California’s laws already prohibit discrimination against anyone based on race, religion, gender, or sexual orientation. This has nothing to do with marriage.&lt;br /&gt;Fiction: Unless Prop 8 passes, CA parents won’t have the right to object to what their children are taught in school.&lt;br /&gt;Fact: California law clearly gives parents and guardians broad authority to remove their children from any health instruction if it conflicts with their religious beliefs or moral convictions.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The nations of Israel, Aruba, and the Netherlands Antilles, as well as the U.S. States of New Mexico, New York and Rhode Island, recognize same-sex marriages lawfully entered into in other countries, while not (yet) permitting them to be performed locally.&lt;br /&gt;The Supreme Court of Connecticut has also ruled that restriction of marriage to heterosexuals is illegal under the state constitution, and gay marriages will begin in Connecticut at a date to be determined. &lt;br /&gt;From 1850 to 1977, California's marriage statutes used gender-neutral language, without reference to "man" or "woman," in providing that marriage is a personal relation arising out of a civil contract to which the consent of the parties capable of making the contract is necessary.&lt;br /&gt;In 1948, the California Supreme Court became the first state court in the country to strike down a law prohibiting interracial marriage. It was the only state supreme court to do so before the United States Supreme Court invalidated all those laws in 1967. The California Supreme Court held that "marriage is ... something more than a civil contract subject to regulation by the state; it is a fundamental right of free men ... Legislation infringing such rights must be based upon more than prejudice and must be free from oppressive discrimination to comply with the constitutional requirements of due process and equal protection of the laws" (Perez v. Sharp (1948) 32 Cal.2d 711, 714-715). The California Supreme Court explained that "the right to marry is the right to join in marriage with the person of one's choice".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is an interesting press release from tonight:&lt;br /&gt;LDS Lawyer's Commentary Mischaracterized in 'No on 8' Press Release&lt;br /&gt;Last update: 7:02 p.m. EDT Oct. 21, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ORANGE COUNTY, Calif., Oct 21, 2008 /PRNewswire via COMTEX/ -- "A press release dated October 19 from a public relations firm representing 'No on 8' is inaccurate and misleading," says Morris A. Thurston, an LDS lawyer who was erroneously cited as having "debunked" new California Prop 8 ads. “…Prop 8 will not require teachers to promote gay marriage or to make any value judgment regarding the morality of same-sex marriage compared to traditional marriage…More than a month ago, Thurston wrote a commentary on a document titled "Six Consequences ... if Prop 8 Fails." That document, unsigned and anonymous, had not been approved by the LDS Church, although it was being circulated by some local church members. "It contained certain misstatements about the consequences of Prop 8's failure," Thurston said, "so I wrote my commentary to correct these errors…The primary reason I wrote my commentary was to help keep the campaign honest. I am an active member of the LDS Church and a strong supporter of equal rights for gays and lesbians.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back through time, we find several types of marriages that were once considered acceptable and have since been found to be oppressive or undesirable, such as child brides or arranged marriages. Some cultures still believe in these practices, but our current culture eschews them.&lt;br /&gt;In some countries today, marriages are separate between church and state and couples are required to have 2 separate ceremonies.&lt;br /&gt;In the Roman Empire they had 2 types of marriage: one where the woman lost her rights of inheritance and one called a free marriage, where she did not. Interestingly, this is the same culture where the first recorded use of same sex marriages.&lt;br /&gt;Throughout the middle ages women had an age requirement to marry. In the 1200s it was 24 years of age, in the 1500s it was 20.&lt;br /&gt;It wasn’t until 1545 when marriage was officially defined as a union between a man and a woman. This was done by Roman Catholics as an Anti-Reformation act, because until then, most marriages were not consecrated or recorded by church officials. After that, Catholics had their marriages performed in ceremonies by priests, and Protestants registered their marriages with the state instead of the church.&lt;br /&gt;In England they had several “Fleet Marriages” or clandestine marriages where the 2 parties simply had to express to each other their consent to marry and they were considered married. They might do this because they had no parental consent or they were already married to someone else. After the Marriage Act of 1753 passed, you had to “publish” your intent to marry or obtain a license. However, in the Americas, Fleet Marriages continued. The Marriage Act of 1753 also did not apply to Britain's overseas colonies of the time, so common law marriages continued to be recognized in the future United States and Canada. In the United States, new common law marriages arising in the state are still recognized in Alabama, Colorado, Iowa, Kansas, Montana, Rhode Island, South Carolina, Texas, Utah and the District of Columbia, and in several Canadian provinces. Almost all U.S. states recognize common law marriages validly entered into at a time and place where common law marriage was recognized.&lt;br /&gt;While a number of U.S. states recognize either same sex marriage, or domestic partnerships with the same legal incidents as marriage, no U.S. state currently recognizes same sex common law marriages.&lt;br /&gt;It wasn’t until 1907 that the Deceased Wife’s Sister’s Marriage Act was repealed in Great Britain. Up until then, it was illegal to marry your dead wife’s sister.&lt;br /&gt;A marriage, by definition, bestows rights and obligations on the married parties, and sometimes on relatives as well, being the sole mechanism for the creation of affinal ties (in-laws). These may include:&lt;br /&gt;giving a spouse or his/her family control over a spouse’s labor &amp; property.&lt;br /&gt; giving a spouse responsibility for a spouse’s debts.&lt;br /&gt; giving a spouse visitation rights when his/her spouse is incarcerated or hospitalized.&lt;br /&gt; giving a spouse control over his/her spouse’s affairs when the spouse is incapacitated.&lt;br /&gt; establishing the second legal guardian of a parent’s child.&lt;br /&gt; establishing a joint fund of property for the benefit of children.&lt;br /&gt;establishing a relationship between the families of the spouses.&lt;br /&gt;Marriage is not a prerequisite for cohabitation. In some cases couples living together do not wish to be recognized as married, such as when pension or alimony rights are adversely affected, or because of taxation consideration, or because of immigration issues, and for many other reasons.&lt;br /&gt;In some cases cohabitation may constitute a common-law marriage, and in some countries the laws recognize cohabitation in preference to the formality of marriage for taxation and social security benefits.&lt;br /&gt; Cohabitation alone does not create a common-law marriage; the couple must hold themselves out to the world as husband and wife; and&lt;br /&gt; There must be mutual consent of the parties to the relationship constituting a marriage&lt;br /&gt; Both parties must be of legal age to enter into a marriage or have parental consent to marry&lt;br /&gt;In some jurisdictions, a couple must have cohabited and held themselves out to the world as husband and wife for a minimum length of time for the marriage to be recognized as valid. Again, while a number of U.S. states recognize either same sex marriage, or domestic partnerships with the same legal incidents as marriage, no U.S. state currently recognizes same sex common law marriages.&lt;br /&gt;There are other parts of marriage that certain cultures place a different emphasis on that we do not. Some of these include:&lt;br /&gt;In some cultures, marriage imposes an obligation on women to bear children. In northern Ghana, for example, payment of bridewealth signifies a woman's requirement to bear children, and women using birth control face substantial threats of physical abuse and reprisals. &lt;br /&gt;People's Republic of China shifted from allowing polygamy to supporting only monogamy in the Marriage Act of 1953 after the Communist revolution.&lt;br /&gt;Many societies have also adopted other restrictions on whom one can marry, such as prohibitions of marrying persons with the same surname, or persons with the same sacred animal. Anthropologists refer to these sorts of restrictions as exogamy. One example is South Korea's general taboo against a man marrying a woman with the same family name.&lt;br /&gt;The financial aspects of marriage vary between cultures and have changed over time:&lt;br /&gt;Dowry&lt;br /&gt;In many cultures the family of the bride was historically expected to provide a dowry to the husband. A dowry was not an unconditional gift, but was usually a part of a wider marriage settlement. For example, if the groom had other children, they could not inherit the dowry, which had to go to the bride's children. In the event of her childlessness, the dowry had to be returned to her family, but sometimes not until the groom's death or remarriage. Often the bride was entitled to inherit at least as much as her dowry from her husband's estate. In some cultures, dowries continue to be required today, while some countries impose restrictions on the payment of dowry.&lt;br /&gt;Bride price and dower (All I can think of here is the movie, Johnny Lingo)&lt;br /&gt;In other cultures, the groom or his family were expected to pay a bride price to the bride's family for the right to marry the daughter, or dower, which was payable to the bride. If the groom or his family did not have the bride price to offer to the bride's family, sometimes a bride service may be accepted in its place. This required the groom to work for the bride's family for a set period of time.&lt;br /&gt;Morning gifts, which might also be arranged by the bride's father rather than the bride, are given to the bride herself; the name derives from the Germanic tribal custom of giving them the morning after the wedding night. She might have control of this morning gift during the lifetime of her husband, but is entitled to it when widowed. If the amount of her inheritance is settled by law rather than agreement, it may be called dower. Depending on legal systems and the exact arrangement, she may not be entitled to dispose of it after her death, and may lose the property if she remarries. Morning gifts were preserved for many centuries in morganatic marriage, a union where the wife's inferior social status was held to prohibit her children from inheriting a noble's titles or estates. In this case, the morning gift would support the wife and children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Societies have also at times required marriage from within a certain group. Anthropologists refer to these restrictions as endogamy. An example of such restrictions would be a requirement to marry someone from the same tribe. Racist laws adopted by some societies in the past—such as Nazi-era Germany, apartheid-era South Africa and most of the United States in the nineteenth and the first half of the 20th century—which prohibited marriage between persons of different races could also be considered examples of endogamy. In the U.S., many laws banning interracial marriage, which were state laws, were gradually repealed between 1948 and 1967. The U.S. Supreme Court declared all such laws unconstitutional in the case of Loving v. Virginia in 1967.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In spite of this, several religions continued to condemn, or refuse to perform interracial marriages for many more years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remarkably, Proposition 8 will amend the State Constitution by a simple majority vote. But before you go all "will of the people" on me, please reflect that by a simple majority vote, African Americans would have remained "separate but equal" in the Jim Crow South. The point of the Constitution is to prevent abuse of the minority by the tyranny of the majority. That's why the courts exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a LONG history and cultural lesson, for which I apologize, my point is this:&lt;br /&gt;There have been times when certain ideas of marriage have been appalling to people, but that have withstood time and have come to be considered acceptable. If I were in the pre-civil rights south, I would have wanted to be someone who would have stood up for interracial marriage rights. I would hope that I would have always stood for property rights equality. Indeed, history has repeated several scenarios that people have been persecuted for their beliefs and rights which have since been found to be considered humane and unalienable. I am reminded of the accounts I have read about women who wanted the right to vote. I am reminded of my forefather who practiced polygamy with the Mormon Church in the late 1800s and was denied the chance to attend his child’s funeral. I would hope that at any point in history, we would approach our fellow humans with respect and love and not purposely seek to take away their rights and liberties. People have a right to worship how they deem appropriate. I respectfully submit that people should have the right to marry the right person, in the right place at the right time as they deem right for themselves. And that might include marrying someone of the same gender.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-8804435276679384858?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/8804435276679384858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=8804435276679384858' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/8804435276679384858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/8804435276679384858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/10/proposition-8.html' title='Proposition 8'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-3843871337476809661</id><published>2008-10-20T20:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T21:27:48.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beauty of Freedom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SP1YPg6L9WI/AAAAAAAAAEE/yNYMxKDN_8Q/s1600-h/IMG_2762.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SP1YPg6L9WI/AAAAAAAAAEE/yNYMxKDN_8Q/s400/IMG_2762.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259456963393877346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SP1YP0peR0I/AAAAAAAAAEM/NG0pPB03AP8/s1600-h/IMG_2764.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SP1YP0peR0I/AAAAAAAAAEM/NG0pPB03AP8/s400/IMG_2764.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259456968692483906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is the last day to register to vote here in California.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of you may be wondering whether or not it matters if you vote. Some of you may wonder if you should read on if your political views may differ from mine. I hope by sharing this story, you will have an insight into my heart on voting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in my first quarter at the University of Utah, I was lucky enough to have taken a course entitled, _The Beauty of Freedom_ by JD Williams. JD WIlliams had a love affair with the US Constitution and The Bill of Rights. To say that he impacted my buddiing viewpoints is an understatement. He helped me to understand that to vote is a sacred covenant that you undertake as a member of  this beautiful United States of America. He instilled such quotes as, "Your right to (fill in the blank) ends where my nose begins." Additionally, he had these great moments where he would invite members of the class to "Go for the Ruby Stickpin and quote a scene from _1776_ with him. As far as I know, to this day, only Camille ever raised her hand during that moment. As our beloved J.D. Williams so brilliantly said, “Democracy is built upon the right to be insecure.” We are vulnerable. And we are vulnerable together. Democracy is a beautiful experiment." Sadly, JD passed away last year, and I'm sure my heart is not the only one empty. It is because of JD that I have never missed a chance to vote since I became eligible. Thank you, JD. Thank you even when I had to walk uphill at night on crutches to vote for a small neighborhood ballot. Thank you for giving me the privilege of honoring the beauty of my freedom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To quote one of my heros, Terry Tempest Williams, "This is the path of intellectual freedom and spiritual curiosity. Our insistence of democracy is based on our resistance of complacency. To be engaged. To participate. To create alternatives together. We may be wrong. We will make mistakes. But we can engage in spirited conversation and listen to one another with respect and open minds as we speak and explore our differences, cherishing the vitality of the struggle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Democracy can also be messy and chaotic. In democracy, every vote counts and every vote is counted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When minds close, democracy begins to close. Fear creeps in, silence overtakes speech. Rhetoric masquerades as thought. Dogma is dressed up like an idea. And we are told what to do, not asked what we think. Security is guaranteed. The lie begins to carry more power than the truth until the words of our own founding fathers are forgotten and the images of television replace history. An open democracy inspires wisdom and the dignity of choice. A closed society inspires terror and the tyranny of belief. We are no longer citizens. We are media-engineered clones wondering who we are and why we feel alone. Lethargy trumps participation. We fall prey to the cynicism of our own resignation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When democracy disappears, we are asked to accept the way things are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question. Stand. Speak. Act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make us uncomfortable. &lt;br /&gt;Make us think. &lt;br /&gt;Make us feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep us free."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I encourage thoughtful, respectful political opinions. As far as I'm truly concerned, there is always room for an opinion. What is criminal in my view is when a citizen wastes their opportunity to participate in the Beauty of Freedom. I hope you're all registered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoreau wrote in his essay, "Civil Disobedience,"Cast your whole vote, not a strip of paper merely, but your whole influence."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Included here are pictures I took today of the Democratic and Republican Headquarters here in Seaside, CA. Tonight, I honor my right to vote and encourage you to exercise yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps: Ironically or not, one of JD Williams most visibile students was Karl Rove. And me, of course.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-3843871337476809661?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/3843871337476809661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=3843871337476809661' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/3843871337476809661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/3843871337476809661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/10/beauty-of-freedom.html' title='The Beauty of Freedom'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SP1YPg6L9WI/AAAAAAAAAEE/yNYMxKDN_8Q/s72-c/IMG_2762.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-1385278023472961552</id><published>2008-10-19T21:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T21:15:56.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Because I Think You May Need A Little More</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwFBC_7AUI/AAAAAAAAADc/WufNGYnG06s/s1600-h/IMG_2661.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwFBC_7AUI/AAAAAAAAADc/WufNGYnG06s/s320/IMG_2661.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259083980404883778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwFBfBRtAI/AAAAAAAAADk/wGcBj0wbb5A/s1600-h/IMG_2653.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwFBfBRtAI/AAAAAAAAADk/wGcBj0wbb5A/s320/IMG_2653.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259083987926758402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwFBqkC3OI/AAAAAAAAADs/Y5nGYLqJA6M/s1600-h/IMG_2652.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwFBqkC3OI/AAAAAAAAADs/Y5nGYLqJA6M/s320/IMG_2652.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259083991025376482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwFB8IF1eI/AAAAAAAAAD0/7GTBFN2dwlA/s1600-h/IMG_2641.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwFB8IF1eI/AAAAAAAAAD0/7GTBFN2dwlA/s320/IMG_2641.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259083995739968994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwFCTkuXsI/AAAAAAAAAD8/4E6KeMTvjRo/s1600-h/IMG_2671.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwFCTkuXsI/AAAAAAAAAD8/4E6KeMTvjRo/s320/IMG_2671.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259084002034081474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Towards the end of my vacation, in fact hours after I left Scottsdale, I came down with a serious case of food poisoning coupled with dehydration. Yikes. Because of this, I am behind on my posts, so just to share a little more of the Scottsdale experience, I am sharing a few more pictures with you all. This includes the pictures of the women we found who had all dressed alike for their tourism day. WARNING: If you are delicate in consititution, proceed with caution while perusing these pictures. However, I'm including a few of the cute girls we were with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-1385278023472961552?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/1385278023472961552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=1385278023472961552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/1385278023472961552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/1385278023472961552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/10/just-because-i-think-you-may-need.html' title='Just Because I Think You May Need A Little More'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwFBC_7AUI/AAAAAAAAADc/WufNGYnG06s/s72-c/IMG_2661.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-2485028197238937794</id><published>2008-10-19T20:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T21:02:10.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This One's For Toni...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwCqmWLX9I/AAAAAAAAAC8/i0HCDxq5u-M/s1600-h/IMG_2691.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwCqmWLX9I/AAAAAAAAAC8/i0HCDxq5u-M/s320/IMG_2691.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259081395733225426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwCq1gLPPI/AAAAAAAAADE/TUThIgOdZqU/s1600-h/IMG_2673.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwCq1gLPPI/AAAAAAAAADE/TUThIgOdZqU/s320/IMG_2673.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259081399801691378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwCrDGwj1I/AAAAAAAAADM/usAmCcpFnko/s1600-h/IMG_2688.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwCrDGwj1I/AAAAAAAAADM/usAmCcpFnko/s320/IMG_2688.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259081403453181778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwCrwAqbwI/AAAAAAAAADU/fRTmXpXjE7s/s1600-h/IMG_2682.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwCrwAqbwI/AAAAAAAAADU/fRTmXpXjE7s/s320/IMG_2682.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259081415507209986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Toni's last day of vacation, we stopped by Scottsdale, AZ to be official tourists. I learned a lot that day. I learned what you should NOT dress like. I witnessed some terrible tourist gifts. But one of the memorable moments was Toni discovering her favorite artist, Gary Ernest Smith ( http://www.overlandgallery.com/Artists/Smith.html)  and having her picture taken with him, and him generously signing her book with original artwork. My friends, when you meet someone that you admire so greatly, you can only guess how thrilling that can be. I had never seen his work, yet I found his paintings to evoke a lot of emotion in me, mainly some homesickness for the pastoral scenes of Utah.  Has anyone else met someone like this? I'd like to hear about your experiences.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-2485028197238937794?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/2485028197238937794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=2485028197238937794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/2485028197238937794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/2485028197238937794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-ones-for-toni.html' title='This One&apos;s For Toni...'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwCqmWLX9I/AAAAAAAAAC8/i0HCDxq5u-M/s72-c/IMG_2691.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-7409837472322125310</id><published>2008-10-19T20:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T20:54:15.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwA13FXloI/AAAAAAAAACU/tklzveI968U/s1600-h/IMG_2647.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwA13FXloI/AAAAAAAAACU/tklzveI968U/s320/IMG_2647.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259079390181430914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwA2CCbLkI/AAAAAAAAACc/jAar2kA5qJ8/s1600-h/IMG_2646.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwA2CCbLkI/AAAAAAAAACc/jAar2kA5qJ8/s320/IMG_2646.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259079393121873474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwA2RzXksI/AAAAAAAAACk/ZMKspm1nRsw/s1600-h/IMG_2649.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwA2RzXksI/AAAAAAAAACk/ZMKspm1nRsw/s320/IMG_2649.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259079397353689794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwA2s8yWAI/AAAAAAAAACs/G7lCU2URs7w/s1600-h/IMG_2650.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwA2s8yWAI/AAAAAAAAACs/G7lCU2URs7w/s320/IMG_2650.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259079404640950274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwA3JxOnjI/AAAAAAAAAC0/Vn032RRwHMU/s1600-h/IMG_2651.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwA3JxOnjI/AAAAAAAAAC0/Vn032RRwHMU/s320/IMG_2651.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259079412377099826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-7409837472322125310?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/7409837472322125310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=7409837472322125310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/7409837472322125310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/7409837472322125310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPwA13FXloI/AAAAAAAAACU/tklzveI968U/s72-c/IMG_2647.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-672264010456021489</id><published>2008-10-19T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T20:49:56.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tourism Gone Wrong</title><content type='html'>While on vacation we went to Scottsdale, AZ. I had hoped to see one of my idols, Stephenie Meyer of _Twilight_ fame, but I didn't call ahead to let her know we were in town, so we missed her. We did however find many pictures of bad souvenirs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do shops get the ideas to sell these ridiculous items? And what is it that makes people buy them? Once you've accidentally purchased one, why on earth would you give your friends one of these items, or, even worse, keep them as a memento of your journey? It pained me to see some of these. But of course, we did come away from AZ with our own momentos: Mexican Jumpiing Beans, A Scorpion Sucker, Scorpion Egg Bubblegum and a Pheonix T Shirt. Perhaps we had also strayed into unforgiveable souvenir territory. What can I say? When in Arizona, do as the Arizonans?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-672264010456021489?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/672264010456021489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=672264010456021489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/672264010456021489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/672264010456021489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/10/tourism-gone-wrong.html' title='Tourism Gone Wrong'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-4387791549626406071</id><published>2008-10-12T16:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T16:47:05.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPKMbo647xI/AAAAAAAAABM/VdVmH2cLSzY/s1600-h/IMG_2617.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPKMbo647xI/AAAAAAAAABM/VdVmH2cLSzY/s320/IMG_2617.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256418121563565842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends can help you have such a nice day, experience life in such a nice way. Having friends helps you to remember to share your shoes, your make-up, and as this picture illustrates, friends share their inner tubes as well as their inner thoughts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-4387791549626406071?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/4387791549626406071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=4387791549626406071' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/4387791549626406071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/4387791549626406071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/10/friends.html' title='Friends'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPKMbo647xI/AAAAAAAAABM/VdVmH2cLSzY/s72-c/IMG_2617.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-1403895879940216201</id><published>2008-10-12T16:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T16:41:08.187-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finishing and Relaxing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPKK0YWWCGI/AAAAAAAAAAk/wPyWOt9BtPY/s1600-h/IMG_2620.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPKK0YWWCGI/AAAAAAAAAAk/wPyWOt9BtPY/s320/IMG_2620.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256416347588790370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPKK0uNCVWI/AAAAAAAAAAs/TjoNw9UeN7Y/s1600-h/IMG_2619.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPKK0uNCVWI/AAAAAAAAAAs/TjoNw9UeN7Y/s320/IMG_2619.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256416353455330658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPKK04MurZI/AAAAAAAAAA0/URNJs5QdxcI/s1600-h/IMG_2618.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPKK04MurZI/AAAAAAAAAA0/URNJs5QdxcI/s320/IMG_2618.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256416356138397074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPKK04MhgCI/AAAAAAAAAA8/tVyRJ5eASGU/s1600-h/IMG_2615.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPKK04MhgCI/AAAAAAAAAA8/tVyRJ5eASGU/s320/IMG_2615.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256416356137533474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPKK1NM_TFI/AAAAAAAAABE/yKR75iECCwU/s1600-h/IMG_2616.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPKK1NM_TFI/AAAAAAAAABE/yKR75iECCwU/s320/IMG_2616.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256416361776630866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends, I learned something today. I learned that sometimes if you are still and quiet long enough, you can find valuable insight into your heart. As I was sitting next to the Lazy River today, watching the girls sail by on their rafts, sipping ice cold water and letting the vitamin D soak into my sun-starved soul, some answers for a question that has been plaguing me for over 10 years came to me. I was so shocked, that of course I instantly had to start talking and check my thoughts out with my friends. Maybe if I had been still just a few more minutes I could have solved more of my life's mysteries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I finished my book _The Queen's Fool_ by Phillipa Gregory  today. I liked it more than I suggested earlier. It brough one or two tears to my eyes by the end. But I was glad to be done with that book. In other book news, Toni can't seem to settle on a book right now. She finished _Just Read_ bu Susan Briggs. Based on the fact that it was a 2 out of 5, I won't pick it up. But she read it in a day, and I should know since she sat next to me the entire time she read. But she couldn't let herself get into _Edgar Sawtelle_ and today she started _Carpool Confidential_ by Jessica Benson. She was about 13 pages into it and asked me if I knew where the book exchange was. Instead of starting a new book, I read the latest People magazine. I'm worried I'm surrounded by medicocre book karma right now. Does anyone else ever feel that way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After some fun reading and a prickly pear margarita, the moms all took a few laps in the lazy river. We laughed so hard that I thought I might roll out of my tube. I love spending time with my dear friends, laughing so hard. I am so glad that I'm where I am right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-1403895879940216201?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/1403895879940216201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=1403895879940216201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/1403895879940216201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/1403895879940216201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/10/finishing-and-relaxing.html' title='Finishing and Relaxing'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPKK0YWWCGI/AAAAAAAAAAk/wPyWOt9BtPY/s72-c/IMG_2620.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-7151185660747949945</id><published>2008-10-11T21:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T22:25:04.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Relaxing in the Sun</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPGJIj1_x4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Z6-wkIOEmIc/s1600-h/IMG_2614.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPGJIj1_x4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Z6-wkIOEmIc/s320/IMG_2614.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256133020271757186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPGJI9y28UI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EvF-VG0LpZQ/s1600-h/IMG_2607.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPGJI9y28UI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EvF-VG0LpZQ/s320/IMG_2607.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256133027237916994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPGJI7vfeLI/AAAAAAAAAAc/77CVkomFKqA/s1600-h/IMG_2613.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPGJI7vfeLI/AAAAAAAAAAc/77CVkomFKqA/s320/IMG_2613.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256133026686924978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a wonderful chance to just relax and enjoy life. We started early by going to the Last Chance Nordstrom store in Phoenix, AZ. We got some GREAT deals and had a great morning shopping. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, Toni and I sat by the pool and watched the girls swim and play in the water. Apparently we had some winds this afternoon that may or may not have been associated with a recent hurricane in Cabo San Lucas. You know that didn't stop us from ordering some fun drinks from the cabana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm reading _The Queen's Fool_ by Phillipa Gregory during this vacation. I read her latest book last week and I read it in about a day. This book is taking me many days to read. I like it, but it's just not a compelling page turner. Or maybe it's just that I'm reading it next to the balmy breezes through the palm trees and I just can't quite relax and stay focused on the story. I'm trying though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to add some pictures of the girls at the poolside and one of cute Jared and cute Toni celebrating Toni's 16th Wedding Anniversary. My sweet brother, Caleb surprised her with a cake and when Jared saw it he said, "It's my birthday!!!!" He struck that cute pose and kept saying "Cheese" over and over because the camera didn't flash. So Happy Anniversary, Toni and Happy Belated Birthday, sweet Jared. And if you look closely you'll see darling Ethan sitting behind them eating some delicious freezer pizza that Auntie Esther specializes in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to figure out how to publish some pictures from our vacation, so hopefully they'll show up here. Thanks again to my dear Beckie for helping me start this blogging adventure!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-7151185660747949945?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/7151185660747949945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=7151185660747949945' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/7151185660747949945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/7151185660747949945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/10/relaxing-in-sun.html' title='Relaxing in the Sun'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPGJIj1_x4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Z6-wkIOEmIc/s72-c/IMG_2614.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622010290556427840.post-4992574813085816040</id><published>2008-10-10T21:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T22:06:29.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Joined The 21st Century!</title><content type='html'>Tonight, my wonderful sister-in-law Beckie came over and showed me how to Blog!&lt;br /&gt;I love her for being so patient with me. Thank you, Beckie! Hopefully tomorrow she'll teach me how to post a picture!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2622010290556427840-4992574813085816040?l=thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/feeds/4992574813085816040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2622010290556427840&amp;postID=4992574813085816040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/4992574813085816040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2622010290556427840/posts/default/4992574813085816040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesandsthroughthehourglass.blogspot.com/2008/10/ive-joined-21st-century.html' title='I&apos;ve Joined The 21st Century!'/><author><name>Esther</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16067087125607096123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_32Y7TtWLa4g/SPv4QcI0rPI/AAAAAAAAABc/RZe9PlGj8Uk/S220/IMG_2665.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
