<?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-14817400</id><updated>2012-02-16T10:54:02.457-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life after Sesame Street</title><subtitle type='html'>Knitting, Motherhood and whatever else I feel like saying.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>438</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-8512617476704145536</id><published>2010-03-04T16:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T16:16:48.916-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Banana Bread</title><content type='html'>I made up this recipe when I was on my Daniel fast last year. It is almost time again for that fast to come around again. So I thought I would get myself ready for it. (But for the fast, I used other substitutes for the eggs, during the fast.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awesome Banana Bread&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup shortening&lt;br /&gt;2 eggs&lt;br /&gt;1/2 tsp salt&lt;br /&gt;3 tsp baking powder&lt;br /&gt;4 mashed banana's&lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 cup All purpose flour&lt;br /&gt;1  4 oz package of chopped walnuts&lt;br /&gt;1 6 oz package of dried cranberries&lt;br /&gt;a pinch of cinnamon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preheat oven to 350&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cream shortening and sugar. Add eggs one at a time, then add mashed bananas. Fold in dry ingredients. Fold in nuts and cranberries. Bake in a 9X5 greased pan for 1 hour.&lt;br /&gt; Easy and very yummy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-8512617476704145536?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8512617476704145536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=8512617476704145536' title='33 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8512617476704145536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8512617476704145536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2010/03/banana-bread.html' title='Banana Bread'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>33</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-2319412155679488747</id><published>2009-05-31T08:02:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T08:09:20.469-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Golf Outing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SiJycbFHqTI/AAAAAAAAAw4/E9YR4duAE_M/s1600-h/lamar.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341957940645964082" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SiJycbFHqTI/AAAAAAAAAw4/E9YR4duAE_M/s320/lamar.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lamar teeing off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SiJyUVew9II/AAAAAAAAAww/vmUWup-_hrY/s1600-h/james.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341957801703961730" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SiJyUVew9II/AAAAAAAAAww/vmUWup-_hrY/s320/james.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; James rockin' the Mohawk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SiJyMeL83XI/AAAAAAAAAwo/2p_7tO_tFoA/s1600-h/j.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341957666602016114" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SiJyMeL83XI/AAAAAAAAAwo/2p_7tO_tFoA/s320/j.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James teeing off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SiJyEM22dOI/AAAAAAAAAwg/H-4GG89FGg8/s1600-h/bryanna.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341957524511159522" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SiJyEM22dOI/AAAAAAAAAwg/H-4GG89FGg8/s320/bryanna.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Bryanna with her putter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was such a nice day out yesterday, we decided to go golfing. Bryanna has been asking us to go golfing for a long time now. Since we got Bryanna and Makayla kids golf clubs, we needed to get our money out of them, before they grow out of them. So James, Lamar, Bryanna and I went golfing. We did 27 holes. Of course Bryanna couldn't really golf, but when we got to the green she putted her ball in. I think she had more fun riding on the golf cart than anything else. I tried to get more pictures, but it was raining off and on later in the day.&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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-2319412155679488747?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2319412155679488747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=2319412155679488747' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2319412155679488747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2319412155679488747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/golf-outing.html' title='Golf Outing'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SiJycbFHqTI/AAAAAAAAAw4/E9YR4duAE_M/s72-c/lamar.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-4326252618763435273</id><published>2009-05-13T07:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T08:14:52.453-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It Will Never Die</title><content type='html'>That's right, my 1985 Blazer will never die! I just love that car. Well on my latest adventure of fixing the beast, was the steering column. The part that you see under the hood was broke. To you motor heads, it was the half shaft going to the steering gear box. Well the original one was, a very bad pot smokers engineering design gone wrong. Where it goes into the steering box was broke. If I wiggled it and used a crow bar, it would have came out with no problem. I wouldn't have had to even unbolt it at all. That's how bad my car was a death trap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But according to James, it was in bad shape, but not a death trap. WTF? I'm sorry, one bad pot hole and that would have been deadly. Probably not for me, but for the person I would have hit. But it wasn't a death trap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I remembered why I didn't like working on cars. Well it's not like I don't like it, I just don't like it when I can't work on my own car. James has to step in and do all of it. I think he forgets I have been working on cars a lot longer than he has. Well he may know more of the tech stuff about it. Like the compression ratio, and horsepower and crap like that. I really don't care about all of that anymore. Back in high school I did. But now that I am almost 30, I really don't care. I just want my car to run great and to be safe enough for my kids to ride in it. ( wow I'm getting old ) I can't ever fix my own damn car with him around. Then he wonders why I'm always in a pissy mood when I am the tool bitch. I tell him why, then it's the same thing all over again the next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the Blazer is no longer a death trap. Which is a good thing. On my quest for looking for my part, I found a Blazer and S-10 grave yard. Oh it is heaven to me. I found a bunch of parts for when I need them. This summer I plan on taking out all the interior and replacing it. After 24 years, it has taken a beating. Not to mention, James is using the back as a garage. He has a 350 motor in pieces in the back. I remember being redneck, but not hillbilly. I guess that's what happens when you move to a sort of farm city. Well once I get his crap out of my piece of crap, I can make the inside nice again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can say, that my Blazer may look like crap, but it runs just as good or even better than some newer cars. In the last 10 years, there has only been minor stuff wrong with it. Well all but the carburetor and this steering half shaft. For it all being 24 years old, it has lasted a long time. So my next adventure, I will be putting a new engine and transmission in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting to old for a 5-speed. So if I put an automatic in with the engine in it now, it wouldn't be worth it. So that is what I will be doing this summer. Now that James' Camaro is gone, I can move my Blazer in the garage at his parents house. So this should be fun. I will be able to sit and be the tool bitch, while James does it for me. Don't worry, I will have pictures of what is going on. I'm sure something amusing will happen. It always does over there when it comes to working on cars. It doesn't matter who's car it is, something always happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-4326252618763435273?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4326252618763435273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=4326252618763435273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4326252618763435273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4326252618763435273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/it-will-never-die.html' title='It Will Never Die'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-8429579779579993507</id><published>2009-04-21T07:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T08:10:54.820-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dog</title><content type='html'>I have a very odd dog. Every morning, we have a fight. He drinks my coffee! What the hell?! I get to drink my first cup with no problem. It's just the second and third I have problems with. I will get the girls up and get them ready for school after my first cup. So I leave my spot to get the morning rolling. When I come back, I have less coffee than I started with. For a while, I was starting to think I was really sucking it down. Then I saw him in my chair drinking my coffee. EWW! I was drinking coffee after something that licks it's butt! That is really gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He will see me make my coffee and follow me to my chair. He sits in front of my chair waiting for me to get up. Then that is when he makes his move. I have always wondered why he would be so hyper. He is an old dog. Close to 13. So I really don't see him doing a whole lot in his old age. Well he can sure suck down coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have smartened up. I put it on the counter when I leave my chair. Well, he will jump on the counter and try and knock my cup on the floor. So now I am down to 2 coffee cups. I had a whole mess of them. Well some broke due to wet hands. The majority of them have been broke from the coffee stealing dog. I need to start using the plastic coffee cups. The ones people take in the car with the lids. Yeah, that's the ticket! I'll show that dog who is smarter. Knowing my luck, he will eat the cup and lid. ( the dog ate my Webber grill. When I say "ate", he really ate it. Not chewed on it, ate it.) So my dog is part goat.  Well I will figure out a solution for this dilemma one way or the other.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-8429579779579993507?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8429579779579993507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=8429579779579993507' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8429579779579993507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8429579779579993507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/dog.html' title='Dog'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-2465653344026158125</id><published>2009-03-26T08:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T08:28:35.124-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Store</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I went to the store. I only went for a few things. I got juice, milk, lunch meat and the all important sliced cheese. You can't have a sandwich without that. So I only had to use one of those lovely mini carts. I love those things!  As I put my things on the belt, I handed the girl my handy dandy reusable bag. I guess I had given her herpes, in a truck stop in some former life. She was not to happy to use that bag. How hard is it to put stuff in one of those bags? Really? It isn't any different than the new and improved paper bags they have now. (they have handles on them at my store) She gave me my total, I paid and she still looked confused on how to put things in the bag. This bag is rather large. Everything I had bought would fit in the bag. I guess since she was younger than me, she didn't spend hours upon hours playing Tetris.( original Nintendo) I don't think she knew how to fit things together or something. I don't know what it was, but she managed to figure it out after 5 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I might suggest to these corporate chains.  Offer a session on how to deal with customers with the reusable bags, so they don't treat them like they will catch some STD that will jump on them if they touch the bags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; (I don't know if Kroger still does it but when I worked there,  10 years ago they,  didn't charge you when you brought your own bags to use. A little helpful tip to those from the Dayton area.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-2465653344026158125?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2465653344026158125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=2465653344026158125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2465653344026158125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2465653344026158125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/store.html' title='The Store'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-5413363955889220483</id><published>2009-03-21T16:11:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T16:27:45.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday Fun</title><content type='html'>Mom and I took the girls to Carriage Hill Metro Park. We walked around the actual working farm from the 1800's. They saw all of the animals. They were more impressed with an old barn cat than farm animals. Go figure. They chased chickens around and petted horses. Then we went on to the documented history barn. They have old pictures and artifacts to look at. Then there is the little play house. They had more fun playing house and school than the whole part. Well until we went to the little lake. We had a picnic and looked for fish. So they had a blast. Well I think they had more fun running than anything. So here are some pictures of our little fun filled day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVLrQCPEbI/AAAAAAAAAwY/yoDy4ELU410/s1600-h/carriage+hill+09+037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315738141591540146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVLrQCPEbI/AAAAAAAAAwY/yoDy4ELU410/s320/carriage+hill+09+037.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Turtles on a log. My camera sucks, so the pictures suck a little. That was as close as I could get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVLk5MqXZI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/xE9sl0Qlqbw/s1600-h/carriage+hill+09+034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315738032382041490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVLk5MqXZI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/xE9sl0Qlqbw/s320/carriage+hill+09+034.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Who says there aren't any swamps in Ohio?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVLdtV1wRI/AAAAAAAAAwI/oOD9fdHkt_8/s1600-h/carriage+hill+09+030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315737908940226834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVLdtV1wRI/AAAAAAAAAwI/oOD9fdHkt_8/s320/carriage+hill+09+030.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ducks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVLYN2K-gI/AAAAAAAAAwA/rKNf2UOTfR8/s1600-h/carriage+hill+09+031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315737814586554882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVLYN2K-gI/AAAAAAAAAwA/rKNf2UOTfR8/s320/carriage+hill+09+031.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; looking for fish and at the ducks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVLPuaPAkI/AAAAAAAAAv4/xiWXsbondm0/s1600-h/carriage+hill+09+026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315737668708926018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVLPuaPAkI/AAAAAAAAAv4/xiWXsbondm0/s320/carriage+hill+09+026.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;looking around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVLHruiu7I/AAAAAAAAAvw/0o6iDIeo45Q/s1600-h/carriage+hill+09+024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315737530549844914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVLHruiu7I/AAAAAAAAAvw/0o6iDIeo45Q/s320/carriage+hill+09+024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; tree hugger Bryanna&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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVLBLpbRAI/AAAAAAAAAvo/bC0uf6u5g7k/s1600-h/carriage+hill+09+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315737418859234306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVLBLpbRAI/AAAAAAAAAvo/bC0uf6u5g7k/s320/carriage+hill+09+017.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What school would be like 200 years ago.&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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVK5iiv7uI/AAAAAAAAAvg/eGnoPXycbXY/s1600-h/carriage+hill+09+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315737287566290658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVK5iiv7uI/AAAAAAAAAvg/eGnoPXycbXY/s320/carriage+hill+09+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; little worker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVKzY6lzZI/AAAAAAAAAvY/Afi-4sB8M9w/s1600-h/carriage+hill+09+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315737181902720402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVKzY6lzZI/AAAAAAAAAvY/Afi-4sB8M9w/s320/carriage+hill+09+013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; scrub-a-dub-dub&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVKrMRyq8I/AAAAAAAAAvQ/eNSugQD5D5o/s1600-h/carriage+hill+09+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315737041071418306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVKrMRyq8I/AAAAAAAAAvQ/eNSugQD5D5o/s320/carriage+hill+09+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Mr. Rooster&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVKlK_HvjI/AAAAAAAAAvI/KlL22fb0mSo/s1600-h/carriage+hill+09+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315736937645456946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVKlK_HvjI/AAAAAAAAAvI/KlL22fb0mSo/s320/carriage+hill+09+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This horse cracked me up. He actually posed for pictures. He would change sides and his leg positions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVKgTq6PmI/AAAAAAAAAvA/Dk8txZEO7Vs/s1600-h/carriage+hill+09+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315736854077259362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVKgTq6PmI/AAAAAAAAAvA/Dk8txZEO7Vs/s320/carriage+hill+09+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Trying to get a good picture of them doing something cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVKZs_uoBI/AAAAAAAAAu4/p7Nn-D7RU8I/s1600-h/carriage+hill+09+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315736740616380434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVKZs_uoBI/AAAAAAAAAu4/p7Nn-D7RU8I/s320/carriage+hill+09+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ms. Model&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;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/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVKTrhA2PI/AAAAAAAAAuw/PLWpUy1DzQk/s1600-h/carriage+hill+09+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315736637139900658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVKTrhA2PI/AAAAAAAAAuw/PLWpUy1DzQk/s320/carriage+hill+09+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; There favorite part, the cat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;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&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/14817400-5413363955889220483?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5413363955889220483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=5413363955889220483' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5413363955889220483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5413363955889220483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/saturday-fun.html' title='Saturday Fun'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/ScVLrQCPEbI/AAAAAAAAAwY/yoDy4ELU410/s72-c/carriage+hill+09+037.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-8685230621842351938</id><published>2009-03-04T17:07:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T17:24:32.837-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cool Walk</title><content type='html'>Today, James and I went for a walk. We went to Charleston Falls. It is one of my favorite places to go walking and or hiking, depending on what trail I want to go on. Usually I go in the summer or late spring. Since it was a little warm out, I wanted to go and do something. So James and I went walking on every trail. That is when we realized, we are very out of shape. Just about every bench saw our butts. We saved the water fall for last. That and the parking lot is on that path also. So I took a bunch of cool pictures of the falls. It was way better in person. I forgot to take my camera, so I used the one on my phone. They are okay, but you get the idea of how cool the water fall is, when it is thawing out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa79evBFTwI/AAAAAAAAAuo/da78AgJZN6Q/s1600-h/8.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309459715175304962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa79evBFTwI/AAAAAAAAAuo/da78AgJZN6Q/s320/8.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                              The rock wall on the stairs down to see the falls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa79K4bnGQI/AAAAAAAAAug/5lRgrG3qMs0/s1600-h/16.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309459374105106690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa79K4bnGQI/AAAAAAAAAug/5lRgrG3qMs0/s320/16.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa79BExrLhI/AAAAAAAAAuY/erked12W8YI/s1600-h/12.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309459205620182546" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa79BExrLhI/AAAAAAAAAuY/erked12W8YI/s320/12.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa782vSbJhI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/6XNXpPOENg4/s1600-h/11.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309459028053272082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa782vSbJhI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/6XNXpPOENg4/s320/11.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa78s-VmuaI/AAAAAAAAAuI/fIhvL4D9wyc/s1600-h/10.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309458860294453666" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa78s-VmuaI/AAAAAAAAAuI/fIhvL4D9wyc/s320/10.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa78g_tZl9I/AAAAAAAAAuA/p1jPTw5Y2r0/s1600-h/9.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309458654504261586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa78g_tZl9I/AAAAAAAAAuA/p1jPTw5Y2r0/s320/9.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rocks are still frosted over&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa78V2Tor8I/AAAAAAAAAt4/baXa5LzfGbU/s1600-h/6.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309458463001718722" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa78V2Tor8I/AAAAAAAAAt4/baXa5LzfGbU/s320/6.bmp" 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;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa78LTALu6I/AAAAAAAAAtw/Uso18FM9GQU/s1600-h/4.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309458281726196642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa78LTALu6I/AAAAAAAAAtw/Uso18FM9GQU/s320/4.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Water frozen from the rocks on a path&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa78B7iDbbI/AAAAAAAAAto/fB3T7I0k0k8/s1600-h/3.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309458120806985138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa78B7iDbbI/AAAAAAAAAto/fB3T7I0k0k8/s320/3.bmp" 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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa773FBkDEI/AAAAAAAAAtg/K0X1hl2z6Aw/s1600-h/1.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309457934376504386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa773FBkDEI/AAAAAAAAAtg/K0X1hl2z6Aw/s320/1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The view from the top of the falls&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&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/14817400-8685230621842351938?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8685230621842351938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=8685230621842351938' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8685230621842351938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8685230621842351938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/cool-walk.html' title='Cool Walk'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/Sa79evBFTwI/AAAAAAAAAuo/da78AgJZN6Q/s72-c/8.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-5319562533743488026</id><published>2009-02-05T19:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T20:04:33.488-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pants</title><content type='html'>Well I finally broke down and bought new pants. I lost a bunch of weight, so my pants didn't fit. I know good for me. Well I went to the store. I looked all over the women's section for pants that I liked. Well  I am cheap. I don't like to pay more than 15$ for a pair of pants. Well I didn't see any that I liked, that I would pay over said amount. So I went to Plato's Closet. I found pants galore! Plus they were all in my price range.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I have not noticed that there is a new trend. I guess I have been out of the loop for so long, I don't know what the fashion is. ( I haven't bought pants in over 6 years.) I guess the new trend is, to have your pants low. I mean so low that your ass will hang out if you move to much. All of the pants these days are "low riders". I'm sorry, I don't like to have people see my ass. I really don't even like my doctor to see my ass. So every pair of pants are really low. It really sucks for me. I am short. Normal pants are way to long for me. I would have to roll them up so much, they would look stupid on me. So in my case, I have to buy Capri pants for them to fit me normal. Anyways, I find pants in my size. I buy three pairs. ( I didn't try them on. I hate trying on pants.) That should last me another 6 years or so, if I don't gain any weight. I get them home, wash them. Well the next day, I put my new to me pair of pants on. They fit just great. It is nice to have pants that don't fall off of me. I go about my day. Well when I sit down I feel a breeze. So I stand up, and pull my pants up. I sit back down. The same thing happens. Now I am wondering if I just bought defective pants. I get to talking to James. He tells me that all of the women's pants now are mostly "low riders". How in the hell does he know that? Really? How does he know? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he explains to me the fashion trend. I'm just not hip to the new trend. I'm sorry, I'm just not. I like the good old days when pants didn't show your ass. I want my &lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/Saturday_Night_Live/video/clips/mom-jeans/229048/"&gt;Mom Jeans&lt;/a&gt; back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the moral of the story is, make sure your pants don't show your ass. I will be a very weird feeling between you and your ass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-5319562533743488026?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5319562533743488026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=5319562533743488026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5319562533743488026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5319562533743488026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/pants.html' title='Pants'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-8496211605649037285</id><published>2009-01-29T08:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T09:05:19.992-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow in Ohio</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SYG1WvMc3WI/AAAAAAAAAtY/7AbFuxZOAqQ/s1600-h/snow.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296714038994853218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SYG1WvMc3WI/AAAAAAAAAtY/7AbFuxZOAqQ/s320/snow.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay. Well we got about 9 inches of  snow in my area of Ohio. So normal people would just shovel the sidewalks and dig out their cars. Oh no, not in Tipp City. They find a friend with a snow plow on their big redneck truck and have them plow the sidewalk for them. That's how we do it in Tipp City. We work smart not hard. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was digging out my car this morning. So after about an hour of doing that, I went inside for a cup of coffee. As I was sipping my coffee and watching the news, I saw the redneck brothers. I have a window right in front of my chair. So I was watching them plow. Then I saw the one redneck boy drive up on the sidewalk with this truck. It was the funniest thing I have ever seen! I couldn't believe it. So I tried to get a picture with my camera but I was afraid that I would miss it. So I used my camera phone. That's why the picture is kind of crappy. Plus I didn't want them to see me taking a picture, of what they were doing. So that's why there is a screen picture from my door.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just remember, find a friend with a plow on their truck, and have some fun shoveling snow.It doesn't have to be work. I hope this picture brightens your day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-8496211605649037285?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8496211605649037285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=8496211605649037285' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8496211605649037285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8496211605649037285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/snow-in-ohio.html' title='Snow in Ohio'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SYG1WvMc3WI/AAAAAAAAAtY/7AbFuxZOAqQ/s72-c/snow.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-6379001755219423284</id><published>2009-01-27T18:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T18:19:32.291-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Patterns</title><content type='html'>Well in the Ohio Valley area we are getting a bunch of snow today and tomorrow. So I thought it would be a good time to think of a new pattern. I know I'm not going to go out in all of that mess, so it's time for that hamster in my brain to get moving. I don't know if I will make another fair isle or something else. I guess I will just have to see what comes out. I really enjoyed doing my Church Socks, but it was a little frustrating. My yarn kept getting tangled and I didn't make it loose enough at times. I have been looking at all of the sock patterns out there, so  I have an idea of what has already been made. There are tons and tons of patterns out there! So it might be a little harder to think of something new. Well I guess I have time to figure it  out for a few days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-6379001755219423284?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6379001755219423284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=6379001755219423284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6379001755219423284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6379001755219423284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/patterns.html' title='Patterns'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7781666090911686868</id><published>2009-01-17T17:58:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T18:17:58.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Church Socks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SXJjuOJDlRI/AAAAAAAAAtI/qodidc6ucW0/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292402157834966290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SXJjuOJDlRI/AAAAAAAAAtI/qodidc6ucW0/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SXJjhhnHVdI/AAAAAAAAAtA/gL0MF_M3rDA/s1600-h/sock.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292401939723015634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SXJjhhnHVdI/AAAAAAAAAtA/gL0MF_M3rDA/s320/sock.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well I have finally mastered fair isle. Yes, I have made my own fair isle pattern. I call it Church Socks. It has a cross on it. It is pretty easy. Well I guess that would be the idea of making my first fair isle pattern huh? The only bad thing is, I made it upside down. Well it looks normal when you look down from them. So I guess it only depends on which way you look at them. So here is the pattern. ( I wrote it so the cross will be the other way so it wont be upside down to other people.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*** Remember keep the CC strings really loose, or the sock wont fit. Yes, it will be weird to have hanging string but every few stitches twist the MC and CC to it isn't floping around or you get your toes tangled in it when you put it on***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Co 60&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;K2, P2 rib for 2"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Knit 10 rows in Main Color&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rows 11-18(total of 8 rows) Start with MC and K11, K8 in Contrasting Color, K11 in MC&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rows 19-29(total of 11 rows ) K5 in MC, K20 in CC, K5 in MC&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rows 30-38(total of 9 rows) K11 in MC, K8 in CC, K11 in MC&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rows 37-46 total of 10 rows) Knit in MC&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So it is pretty easy. I know not that hard to figure out. Well what can I say, I'm a simple type of person. You can add another cross for the top of the foot, or knit it plain. I used the Monkey Sock pattern to give it a little more depth. So enjoy the pattern.&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/14817400-7781666090911686868?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7781666090911686868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7781666090911686868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7781666090911686868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7781666090911686868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/church-socks.html' title='Church Socks'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SXJjuOJDlRI/AAAAAAAAAtI/qodidc6ucW0/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7935282133126712233</id><published>2009-01-14T19:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T19:48:58.673-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Still Alive</title><content type='html'>Yes I am still alive. I have had a lot of things to do these past few weeks. Well I did the Christmas thing. That was super fun! I just love the pshyconess of the families. So I needed a break from that. So I had my gallbladder removed last week. So there was my vacation from the Christmas thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHOO! Let me tell ya, that was not a fun time. The next day, it felt like I had a baby. But it was worth it. I can finally eat! I have felt a whole lot better to. Today was my first cheeseburger in 6 months. It was the best cheeseburger to. I missed fat and sugar. I even made a cake. That was good to. I would have ate the whole cake, but I would have gotten sick. With stitches still in my stomach, throwing up would have not been that fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my life is back to normal again. Now that I lost 30 pounds, I will probably gain it all back now that I can eat anything. Right before Christmas, I went over to Ami's house. She had a pair of pants that were to big for her. So as a joke I told her let me try them on. I did it as a joke. It wasn't that funny when the actually fit me. I haven't seen a size 6 since high school. They are a little tight on me, but I can get my big butt in them AND button them AND zip them up. Holy crap! I don't look like a size 6. Well in every woman's own eyes, we all are fat. I don't see it. I see pictures taken of me and I still look fat. So I better ware those pants while I can. Now that my problem gallbladder is gone, I will be eating like a champ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I have been working on a Fair Isle pattern for a pair of socks. I am on the heel flap right now. When I get this one done, I will post pictures and the pattern I made up. It only took me 5 times ripping it out to get it right. Well the second sock will be right. I made the pattern upside down on the first one. So it only looks right when I look down at it. So the next sock, I will make it the way it's supposed to be. Well I guess that's what happens when you create patterns. Trial and error. So until something else exciting happens in my life, I will be writing what happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-7935282133126712233?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7935282133126712233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7935282133126712233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7935282133126712233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7935282133126712233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-still-alive.html' title='I&apos;m Still Alive'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-146205904380757440</id><published>2008-12-18T09:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T09:39:41.390-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas</title><content type='html'>Why I hate Christmas......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate all of the crowds at the stores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate all of the crazy people in the parking lots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate all of the rude nasty people in the stores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate that is has become a commercial holiday aimed more for the all mighty dollar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate the crazyness of the family get together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate the stupid holiday drivers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate dragging out the big ass tree and putting up the decorations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate putting up all of those damn lights on the big ass tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate that people can't say " Merry Christmas" because it isn't politically correct any more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate people that don't understand, you don't have the money this year to give gifts, but they still get pissed anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate taking down all of the decorations and the big ass tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate taking the lights off of the big ass tree and hoping that they wont tangle up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I like about Christmas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing my kids open their gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing my family that I haven't see in over a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Celebrating why there is even a Christmas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-146205904380757440?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/146205904380757440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=146205904380757440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/146205904380757440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/146205904380757440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas.html' title='Christmas'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-4568485075087521712</id><published>2008-12-10T09:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T09:32:47.278-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mall</title><content type='html'>Yesterday we all went to the mall, so Makayla could get her ears pierced. She did such a great job in school this quarter. So the deal was, if she got at least 80% or better, she could get her ears pierced. She did great when they pierced her ears. Well we had them pierce them both at the same time. She only cried at the end when they showed them to her in the mirror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all of that, and we were at the mall. But what is a trip to the mall with out eating mall food. We made our way to the food court. Well in our mall's food court, there are three Chinese places all in a row. Well two on one side and a hall way dividing the one on the other. So they have three girls handing out samples of their specials. Let me tell you about the three Chinese girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those girls scare me. Granted they are no taller than I am, but they are still very scary. They yell and scream at you ,to try what ever it is they are having on special. You just can't walk by them and not take a sample. Oh no, you can't. I guess you could, but I wouldn't try it. They give you the feeling, if you don't try their food, they will do some Jackie Chan or Jet Le move on you. Or some ninjas will pop out from behind the counter and mess you up, for not trying their food. I'm not even joking. I wont walk by that corner. Even though the bathrooms are in the little hall way, I will hold it, just so I don't have to walk buy scary Chinese corner. James was laughing at me when I told him why I didn't want to go over there. James is a Chinese food freak. He could eat it all the time and would be happy. So he had no problem taking samples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; All three places have really good food. It is all about the same. Well one place is just a little better. So if I feel in the mood for Chinese, I will walk all the way around the court just to get to them. So if you live in the Dayton area and go to the &lt;a href="http://mallatfairfieldcommons.com/index.cfm"&gt;Fairfield Mall&lt;/a&gt;, you know what I'm talking about. If you don't know, just trust me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-4568485075087521712?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4568485075087521712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=4568485075087521712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4568485075087521712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4568485075087521712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/12/mall.html' title='Mall'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-3589743119465634735</id><published>2008-11-30T15:13:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T15:34:09.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/STL0EsHigWI/AAAAAAAAAs4/FxvAKXcChT0/s1600-h/Picture+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274546475003707746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/STL0EsHigWI/AAAAAAAAAs4/FxvAKXcChT0/s320/Picture+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice. Well not my girls. As you can see Bryanna has a black eye, thanks to Makayla. Last night when we were leaving James' parents house, the girls were running to the car. Well it became a race. Then Makayla got mad and pushed Bryanna into my side view mirror. Bryanna cried. We get home and we see the scratch by her eye. I give her some ice to put on her eye and aspirin. This morning when I get up I see her black eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So of course we go to church, and everyone asks her how she got her black eye. She tells everyone, " My sister pushed me and I fell on mommy's car." Everyone felt so bad for her.  Now she has to go to school tomorrow with a black eye. Hopefully, I don't get a call from the teacher or principal about her eye. Since every time a child gets hurt, they always think the worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the little rhyme is wrong. Girls are not made of sugar and spice. They are very much made of snails and puppy dog tails when they get mad. I don't know who said girls are easier than boys to raise. They all do the same stuff. Girls can be just as mean as boys, if not meaner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-3589743119465634735?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3589743119465634735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=3589743119465634735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/3589743119465634735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/3589743119465634735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/sugar-and-spice-and-everything-nice.html' title='Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/STL0EsHigWI/AAAAAAAAAs4/FxvAKXcChT0/s72-c/Picture+007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-6591210782763400133</id><published>2008-11-26T07:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T08:23:34.058-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gallbladder</title><content type='html'>I have a gallbladder problem. Well I would say it's more like a bag of M&amp;amp;M's in my body. The bag of M&amp;amp;M's gets pissed off when I eat the wrong things. They all act like an army and they want to kill me. Those M&amp;amp;M guys don't play around. Don't let those cute commercials fool you. They are vicious little bastards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Okay it really sucks when your gallbladder hurts. I have been doing fairly well on a diet of nothing good to eat. When I mean nothing good to eat, I mean all of the stuff with fat and sugar has gone out the window. I have to be a vegetarian. I really don't want to be, but I have to. In order for me not to be in pain, I have to not eat any fat. When I do "cheat", I can tell about 20 minutes later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I do have an attack, it's like I'm in labor in my ribs. I have to do what I call a " Porno Star's Pose". I have to contort my body and stretch my muscles till they hurt, so I can have pain some place else to worry about. The weird thing is, it only happens at a certain time at night. Which is odd to me. I also can't fill my stomach either. So when I eat, I have to run on half full. This really sucks. I love to eat. I really do. I know it's all for the better, but I miss food. I miss my Wendy's double bacon cheese burger. I miss pie. I miss doughnuts. I miss real butter. Even when I get my gallbladder taken out, I still can't eat all of those things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since one of my favorite holiday's is upon us, it's going to suck to be me. I can't eat turkey, any pie, ( Oh how I love pie.) and I can't eat anything with butter in it. Paula Deen I envy you. So as my family enjoys the feast, I will have to give dirty looks as they eat all of the food I can't have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I hope everyone has a great Thanksgiving. Have fun eating all of the things loaded with fat and sugar. I will be eating veggies with my fake butter and bread with fake butter. I know I will cheat once again, and I will pay for it later. But what the hell, it's Thanksgiving!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-6591210782763400133?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6591210782763400133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=6591210782763400133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6591210782763400133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6591210782763400133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/gallbladder.html' title='Gallbladder'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-2211201618180204080</id><published>2008-11-25T07:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T07:54:08.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Day</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, James, the kids and I went out to eat with some friends. So we had 4 adults and 5 kids. No problems, well very few with all of those kids. The adults were at one end of the table and the kids at the other. As we were enjoying our horror storeys of all of the odd things our kids have done, Makayla screams. We all look up and she has her tooth in her hand. No big deal. Well she had a little blood. So then all of the kids wanted to see her tooth. We were all eating. So it was a little gross to play show and tell with a tooth at a restaurant. Well our waitress was the one who was freaked out the most. ( she doesn't have kids) She wanted to give Makayla salt water and like 500 napkins for her minor blood loss. I looked at Makayla then I told the waitress she will live and all she would do is rinse her mouth out with regular water and go about eating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone went back to what they were doing before. We all ate and had a good time. As we were leaving, that's when it hit me. Yes I have gotten a cold. Damn it! So I started to feel a little bad. So since I start to feel bad, I go and get some medicine to try and get to the stupid cold before it gets worse. Later last night, I start to feel worse. I ended up falling asleep in my chair. That wasn't a good idea. I wake up sore from how I was sleeping. So I take my butt to bed. Of course I cough all night and I don't sleep very well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First thing this morning, Makayla asks me, " Why didn't the Tooth Fairy didn't come?"  I had totally forgot about her tooth in my sickness. So I told her, " The Tooth Fairy called and told me she was taking a sick day. She will try and make it later tonight." Well I still feel bad. I really don't want to feel like this for Thanksgiving. I want to be able to taste my food. I love to eat. So hopefully this bug will pass before then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on top of me feeling like crap, James and I have to go look at a car to see what's wrong with it today. So not only will I feel like crap, it is going to snow. I hate driving in snow. It's not that I hate it, I just hate all of the people that are on the road with me. They all drive like assholes. It's not the snow that makes you wreck, it's how you and other people drive. I know I wont be having a good day. So hopefully we don't have to fix it today. I am hoping we can fix it tomorrow, when it isn't going to snow. I don't mind the cold, it's just the snow. I hate working on cars when it is snowing out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am going to start my crappy day. I hope I can just stay home and rest. Like that will ever happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-2211201618180204080?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2211201618180204080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=2211201618180204080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2211201618180204080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2211201618180204080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-day.html' title='What a Day'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7321602923228831415</id><published>2008-11-17T18:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T18:58:42.665-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Done</title><content type='html'>I finished the Granny Square Blanket. I got that done on Friday when I was watching Landon. He was such a good helper. He held the squares for me until I needed to sew them together. Then  he helped hold the seven squares that I sewed together. He really liked the blanket. I put it on the floor so he could lay on it. I think I might have to make him one. I know Ami will like one. So I have another blanket project to do. That blanket only took me two weeks to do. It went pretty fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I am working on socks. What a surprise huh? I am running low on socks. I only have five pairs. James has requested a pair so, I need to get to cranking out the socks. Plus Christmas is coming up. I need to get back to the gifts also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I have a boring life right now or what? I run James around and try and keep up with my house work in between. I guess with winter upon us, it's time to settle in and wait for warm weather to come back again. Until then, I will be doing my "yarning", as Bryanna calls it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-7321602923228831415?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7321602923228831415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7321602923228831415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7321602923228831415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7321602923228831415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/done.html' title='Done'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-962502168850652368</id><published>2008-11-09T08:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T09:05:03.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SRbnMoc6VlI/AAAAAAAAAsw/TpzBc11kNBE/s1600-h/Picture+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266651018459502162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SRbnMoc6VlI/AAAAAAAAAsw/TpzBc11kNBE/s320/Picture+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ( my latest project. a granny square blanket.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been busy these past few weeks. I can't even remember what I did, but I know I was hardly home. From what I can remember, I know James and I took apart the front end of the wrecked Camaro. So now it looks like a compact car. We haven't gotten the engine or transmission out yet, there are a few more things we have to do before we get to that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know what else. I'm pissed at Makayla's teacher. I got her report card this week. On it she only had a D. Okay no big deal right? Well in Reading and Math she got a C. That's okay. Well in the little comments box the teacher wrote, " her grade was altered to make her feel more successful." That was in both reading and math. So she didn't get a C. What the hell is that all about!? I'm sorry, but if she is fudging Makayla's grades, I need to know what she really got. If my kid needs help in that area let me know. I don't want my second grader moving on to third grade, when she isn't prepared. I thought Bush enacted that No Child Left Behind thing. Well if you fudge grades, that's leaving them behind. I have requested another conference with her about all of this. I am going to try and remain calm and maybe I will see if I can borrow someones mouth filter. I think that is bullshit! They never did that shit when I was in school. They let the parents know what the child got and why. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Makayla is to smart for her own good. ( sounds like me.) When she is at home or at Mom's house, she knows what she is doing. She can read very well, and she can do math with little problems. I can give that child math problems off the top of my head and she can do it. She might miss one by one number, but she can do it with out paper. She reads a book every night before bed. So I want to know what the problem is at school. I see her work that she does every week. She might miss a few here and there. So what the hell? Now her spelling, is another story. I know I have seen spelling test that she has failed. She got the D in spelling. Hopefully the teacher can get back with me before Thanksgiving break. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;James told his Mom what was going on. Well of course her answer was she has ADD. Uh, no she doesn't.( I know James might read this but I don't care. I can share my opinions and write what ever the hell I want.) That is her answer for every thing. There has to be something wrong with every child. I know she means well and is a big help with us. Not every child has ADD or something else wrong with them. I have tried the ADD medication thing with her. She is not ADD. I think I have narrowed down the problem. It's either she is to busy worrying about friends and recess or her stupid messed up Dad. That is all I can think of. So I talked to the stupid fucker and told him what was going to happen. ( as the previous post) So far he has kept doing what I have asked. Now I just have to work on the recess thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been crocheting a Granny Square blanket. So that is my big project for the winter. I am almost done. I need three more rows and I can finish it off. I have always wanted a Granny Square blanket. So I got a wild hare and just went and made one. I should have it finished by next week. It takes me about 20 minutes to make a square. I need 63 squares. I started the blanket last week. So I think I'm doing pretty well time wise. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well that is whats been going on in my world. Nothing to exciting.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-962502168850652368?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/962502168850652368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=962502168850652368' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/962502168850652368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/962502168850652368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/busy.html' title='Busy'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SRbnMoc6VlI/AAAAAAAAAsw/TpzBc11kNBE/s72-c/Picture+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-6590527091272547963</id><published>2008-10-24T06:46:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T07:50:32.317-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This Sucks</title><content type='html'>Well after the Parent Teacher Conference, I had bad news. That's right. My second grader is not doing so well. I thought she was doing pretty well. Nope. She is failing spelling and writing. She is doing really good in math and science.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reading my &lt;a href="http://www.lifeinthecapitalwithkids.blogspot.com"&gt;sisters blog&lt;/a&gt;. Maybe our genetics got messed up. She is the science nerd and I'm more of the history/useless information nerd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, not only is she not doing so well in her actual work, she is having problems with her social skills. This is totally not like her. Makayla is a social type of person. She has never had a problem going up and talking to anyone. I really had to explain the "Stranger Danger" to this child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold on there is another problem. She also gets lazy and doesn't care. Hmm, sounds like me when I was in school. But I know what her problem is. It is the baby daddy. When she gets the I don't cares, it is usually with in a few days of seeing him. Plus on those days she is very mean to the other kids. Last week, she pushed a girl down and kicked her. The girl was only trying to help her with an assignment. So most of her problems come down to the baby daddy. He is in and out and really doesn't care about anyone but his self. He will go for weeks with out any calls. Then he shows up out of the blue like he was never gone. Okay, I get that he lives an hour away. He could call once a week and talk to her for five minutes and ask about her week. I guess that is to hard to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after I had the knit and crochet thing at the Eagles I went home and called the baby daddy. I told him what was going on. I also told him the teacher and I both think he is the problem. He got pissed! He started yelling at me and cussing me out. So I stayed calm and explained in detail about what was wrong. This child strives for his attention. The only way she gets it, is when she does something bad. She is also worried about him leaving and moving farther away.( he was thinking about moving 4 hours away with some woman with 4 kid and is 10 years older than he is, that he met online.) I explained that to him to. More cussing and yelling. I was nice through this whole thing, which is so unlike me. So I told him his problem is being consistent. The in and out shit has to stop. He went on about how his personal life is none of my business. I told him I really didn't care about his personal life. All I cared about was my child. If he couldn't be consistent, then I would tell him to fuck off for good. At this point in her life, she knows whats going on. She isn't stupid. Now it is messing with her mentally, and that is what pisses me off. Then he went on about how he would take me to court and blah, blah, blah. So I reminded him about how much back child support he owes me and a few other things that would screw him in court. So if we ever did go to court, he would probably end up in jail and would never see her again anyways. Then he went on about how hard is life is and how he doesn't have any money. Boo fucking hoo! Join the fucking club of life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blah, blah, blah, it's hard for him to see her if he doesn't have a place to stay at unless he is with the other baby mama. ( they are on and off. What can I say, she is still young and stupid and has the perfect house with the white picket fence dream.) I told him he could stay at my house for those days. Since he has lived with me before even after I was married. I have given this boy every opportunity to see his child and all of the excuses are taken away. So I told him if he can't follow through, then I will drive my happy ass all the way down, an hour away and tell him to fuck off to his face. He went off about why we couldn't be together. What the Fuck!? It was because I intimidated him and he didn't go for it. So I reminded him about how I don't intimidate, I will and always have followed through with what I said I will do. Plus that was why I didn't want to be with him. I told him it was because he was a piece of shit and couldn't keep his dick in his pants when there were 14 year old girls around. ( he was 20 and he fucked little girls.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he is supposed to see Makayla today. If he even comes. He never calls me, I have to call him. When he is with Ami, she is the one who calls me and sets up when he can see her. I also told him he can't see Makayla unless HE calls me, not Ami. I will have to wait and see about that one. If he does come, I will have another talk with him about our little conversation. I think it's best that I say it to his face. That way he can see how pissed I am and will know that I wont put up with his shit. I really haven't put up with his shit, ever. But he does get a little scared when I am in his face, telling him what I think and what I will do. He kind of cowers like a dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://lifeinthecapitalwithkids.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://lifeinthecapitalwithkids.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-6590527091272547963?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6590527091272547963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=6590527091272547963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6590527091272547963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6590527091272547963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-sucks.html' title='This Sucks'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-5343490037738926755</id><published>2008-10-21T09:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T09:52:33.926-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Well</title><content type='html'>It's been a long time since I have made a post. I have been really busy. Since James lost his license for a year, I have been driving him around. So on top of all the things he needs to do, I have to try and fit in what I need to do. Seriously, I get up at 7am and don't get to bed until midnight. In that time, I hardly have time to sit and relax. For someone who doesn't have a job, I do a lot of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been doing a little knitting. I have managed to make one sock and I am working on a blanket. I got both patterns off of Ravelry. The sock is called Zig-Zag, and the blanket is a psychedelic mitered square pattern. I'm doing the sock toe up. So far the first sock looks good. Since I have started the blanket, I have only gotten the toe part done. As for the blanket, I have gotten two miters done. I need four to make a square. I really haven't figured out how many I need yet. So this blanket might take a while. Or it might even become another project I forget about. I just went through both of my baskets of wips. Some of them I can't even remember what they are. I can't find the patterns for them. So I had to throw them away. I hated doing that, but whats the point of having yarn and half things done, if you don't even know the pattern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have an exciting day today. I don't know what James needs to do, but I have the dreaded Parent Teacher Confrence. I lucked out and I have two of them in the same day. So I don't have the two on different days. So far, I think Makayla will be the good one and Bryanna will be the bad one. It really should be the other way around. It just seems that Bryanna's teacher is a little to anal. I see her every day when I get the girls and she looks like she has a stick in her ass. Makayla's teacher is a little more relaxed. Maybe it's teaching a bunch of five year olds, who knows. I will have to go in with my eyes closed to wait and hear the bad news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm off to start doing some house cleaning before James has to go some where.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-5343490037738926755?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5343490037738926755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=5343490037738926755' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5343490037738926755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5343490037738926755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/well.html' title='Well'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7414761805259522625</id><published>2008-09-27T21:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T22:11:51.404-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Felt Up</title><content type='html'>No, I'm not talking about knitting. I was felt up today. It wasn't by James or my doctor. It was buy a drunk guy at Speedway. I have had a really eventful day. First, I fall in a hole. Well my leg fell in a hole, and my body followed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James and I were over at his parents' house digging holes for a fence. Well I stepped back to get out of the way, of them trying to get a big ass rock out of the hole and I fell in one. So that was fun. Then I go to Speedway and I get felt up buy a stranger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in line waiting to get cigarettes and pay for some chips for the girls. Then this drunk guy started talking to me. I was nice and just smiled and nodded. Well I guess he wasn't done talking and poked me to get my attention. Well he poked me in my boob. He kept on poking me in my boob. I looked at him like What the hell!? and he said " Oh, that's your boob? It's kinda nice." So I said," Yeah, I know.  They are nice, so get the fuck off my boob!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had an interesting day. First I feel like Alice in Wonderland falling in a hole. Then I feel like Anita Hill getting sexually harassed. It's not even Wednesday. I can only be sexually harassed on Wednesdays. That is the only day it's okay to get sexually harassed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-7414761805259522625?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7414761805259522625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7414761805259522625' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7414761805259522625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7414761805259522625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/felt-up.html' title='Felt Up'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7737787834163194895</id><published>2008-09-24T14:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T14:13:49.095-04:00</updated><title type='text'>SP Package</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SNqCzl-Et9I/AAAAAAAAAgU/Mt3XJRZPPCU/s1600-h/pac.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249652138531141586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SNqCzl-Et9I/AAAAAAAAAgU/Mt3XJRZPPCU/s320/pac.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just got my package from my secret pal &lt;a href="http://sanityknit.blogspot.com"&gt;Kim&lt;/a&gt;. I know the picture sucks but my camera need batteries, so I used the camera on my phone. I got a whole bunch of sock yarn. Plus some yarn that I think I will use to make a scarf for one of the girls. I can't wait to start on the Knitpicks bare essential yarn. I have to see what dye colors I have left. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So thanks a bunch Kim you rock!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-7737787834163194895?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7737787834163194895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7737787834163194895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7737787834163194895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7737787834163194895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/sp-package.html' title='SP Package'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SNqCzl-Et9I/AAAAAAAAAgU/Mt3XJRZPPCU/s72-c/pac.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-6842668476395965476</id><published>2008-09-22T22:38:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T22:44:56.728-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Still Knit</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SNhXBpJZggI/AAAAAAAAAgM/G9OgriuR6L4/s1600-h/sock.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249041051437072898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SNhXBpJZggI/AAAAAAAAAgM/G9OgriuR6L4/s320/sock.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do, I swear. I still knit. I just haven't posted anything about it, in like forever and a day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am knitting toe up socks with Blue Sky Alpaca yarn. This is the second sock. Can you believe I am going to actually finish a whole pair? It even amazes me. I took this picture while I was waiting for the girls to get out of school. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When I knit in the car, people look at me funny. They look at me like I'm crazy or something, for knitting. I don't care, I just go about my happy sock knitting self. At least I don't have to go and buy them at the store like everyone else. Ha Ha! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, in the famous word of Forrest Gump; that's all I have to say about that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-6842668476395965476?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6842668476395965476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=6842668476395965476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6842668476395965476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6842668476395965476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-still-knit.html' title='I Still Knit'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SNhXBpJZggI/AAAAAAAAAgM/G9OgriuR6L4/s72-c/sock.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-6633186215052848940</id><published>2008-09-19T07:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T08:03:41.627-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny, Funny Man</title><content type='html'>This morning when we all were taking James to work, Bryanna was talking about how the Tooth Fairy came. She lost another tooth last night. So Bryanna was telling James that she put her tooth under her pillow and when she woke up, she had a quarter. She was so happy to have more money to put into her bank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well James said, " If Mommy puts her dentures under her pillow she will be rich!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I busted up laughing. Gotta love the husband's humor at 6:30 in the morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-6633186215052848940?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6633186215052848940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=6633186215052848940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6633186215052848940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6633186215052848940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/funny-funny-man.html' title='Funny, Funny Man'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7627412319063202595</id><published>2008-09-16T11:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T11:17:33.799-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hanging Out</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I was hanging out in my favorite coffee shop. I was knitting and relaxing with my coffee, before I had to get the girls from school. There were only three people in there. So it was me, and this woman that looked a little older than me and her boyfriend/husband. As I was celebrating the moments of my life, I heard this woman say kind of loudly, " Underwear is a right not a privilege!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what that was all about but I busted up laughing. She shot me a dirty look. I didn't care. That was the funniest thing I have ever heard. I'm sorry, I though we were not a third world country. People can go to the nearest store and buy underwear. But I guess in her "world" you can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might go back today and see if she is there and I might bring her some underware.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-7627412319063202595?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7627412319063202595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7627412319063202595' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7627412319063202595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7627412319063202595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/hanging-out.html' title='Hanging Out'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-276025933539001135</id><published>2008-09-10T20:36:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T20:39:10.298-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Random</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SMhoWn8VZwI/AAAAAAAAAgE/ZOExNslf-xI/s1600-h/landon.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244556503961396994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SMhoWn8VZwI/AAAAAAAAAgE/ZOExNslf-xI/s320/landon.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Makayla and Landon are ready for FOOTBALL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SMhoPlSBoMI/AAAAAAAAAf8/HVfgiAFWjLc/s1600-h/girls.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244556382987985090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SMhoPlSBoMI/AAAAAAAAAf8/HVfgiAFWjLc/s320/girls.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here are Makayla and Bryanna bored at the car show. The day of the accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SMhoIKps7bI/AAAAAAAAAf0/Wg_HBRND2QY/s1600-h/fun.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244556255580450226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SMhoIKps7bI/AAAAAAAAAf0/Wg_HBRND2QY/s320/fun.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who needs to look at cool old cars when there is a pile of dirt to play with?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-276025933539001135?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/276025933539001135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=276025933539001135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/276025933539001135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/276025933539001135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/random.html' title='Random'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SMhoWn8VZwI/AAAAAAAAAgE/ZOExNslf-xI/s72-c/landon.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-4512671775880991564</id><published>2008-09-08T08:44:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T09:31:53.073-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy to be Alive</title><content type='html'>Well yesterday sucked! James, the girls and I were in a car wreck. James totaled the Camaro. It is toast. If we weren't in the Camaro we probably would have not walked away. So I thank God, that everyone is fine, all but some bumps and bruises. This is what happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were driving to drop off a tool to his Dad. We all just came from a car show and his Dad traded one car for another. So the thermostat goes out. Well we were at an old neighbors house visiting. We left from there to go up the street to help his Dad. Well as were coming to a stop at a T intersection. Well the Camaro's breaks failed. I mean there were no breaks at all. So James tried to do every thing he could to stop. Well a Ford F150 T-boned us going 50+ mph.  James turned the wheel and we ended up hitting a guard rail, of the over pass facing the wrong way of traffic. Luckily the car  in the lane we ended up in saw the wreck before he hit us. So the man and the woman in the other car put their flashers on to help with the accident. So James' car is pinned up against the guard rail. So he takes his seat belt off and he can't open the door. He climbs out the window to see how the other people are. The girls are crying so I kick open my door and pull Bryanna out my side. In that adrenaline state, I try and pull open James' door not realizing that it is pinned, to get Makayla out. All I thought was, it is an old car and you never know if it will catch on fire or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after I get both girls out and look them over, James is calling the police. I call his brother Joe who is with his Dad to tell them what is going on. Well Joe rushed over to help us. Here is the kicker. We don't have car insurance. We couldn't afford to pay it this month since James was laid off. So James and Joe think James might go to jail. So Joe tells me to get the girls and go in his car to where their Dad is at, just in case James does go to jail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe calls his wife since they have a tow truck to tow James' car, so it doesn't get impounded. After about an hour I finally catch up with James and everyone and we take the messed up Camaro to his Dad's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all went to the hospital and everyone is fine. It took all night to get to the hospital. James' Mom wouldn't let us go until we had car insurance. No big deal right? Well my printer is out of ink and I didn't have the vin number to my car on me. So she had to drive me 30 minutes to my house and 30 minutes back to hers so I could get car insurance. Then she was making a big deal about how she wanted to drop James at one hospital and take me and the girls to another. Well I just wanted to get to my car and deal with my family shit. I didn't want to hang out with her all night. Don't get me wrong, she means well, but she drives me up the fucking wall. I can't be around her to long with out my mouth going off from the shit she does and says. So it took us until midnight to get home to our car. That was 8 hours after we went to their house with the Camaro. Going to two different hospitals only took 4 hours. So we didn't get home until 6 this morning. I had to get up to deal with all of the calling James' boss, the girls' school and my doctor to see if I can get a later appointment today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, we had a fucked up day. I am glad we are all fine and we walked away. James has a mild concussion, he messed up his shoulder and his back hurts. Bryanna is fine she isn't complaining of anything. Makayla has a bump on her head. I fucked up my elbow and my back trying to get James' door open. So we were very lucky. If we were in anyone of our other cars, we probably wouldn't be so lucky. They don't make cars like the Camaro anymore. So here are some pictures of the after math.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SMUefoAvRTI/AAAAAAAAAfs/fPTFkTvHgo0/s1600-h/s.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243630869808104754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SMUefoAvRTI/AAAAAAAAAfs/fPTFkTvHgo0/s320/s.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The truck's bumper hit right where the side mirrior is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SMUeYVptvKI/AAAAAAAAAfk/NeIUK62awf0/s1600-h/car.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243630744620612770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SMUeYVptvKI/AAAAAAAAAfk/NeIUK62awf0/s320/car.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; the messed up door and fender that James and I spent a week putting on and getting it to look right is all fucked up now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SMUeRNQohqI/AAAAAAAAAfc/yaQ_NNDxf7I/s1600-h/c.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243630622108845730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SMUeRNQohqI/AAAAAAAAAfc/yaQ_NNDxf7I/s320/c.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; the cracked windsheild.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-4512671775880991564?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4512671775880991564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=4512671775880991564' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4512671775880991564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4512671775880991564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/happy-to-be-alive.html' title='Happy to be Alive'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SMUefoAvRTI/AAAAAAAAAfs/fPTFkTvHgo0/s72-c/s.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7875579135914746216</id><published>2008-09-05T13:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T13:34:09.559-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy Again</title><content type='html'>It's been a while since I have posted a new entry. I have been so busy. James was laid off work for a few weeks, so that has put a kink in my life. It's not a bad thing, its just I have certain things I do and with him home it disrupts it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just haven't been home long enough to do anything. I got WAY behind on cleaning. Then I had a ton of phone calls I needed to make that I never had time to make. James and I spent most of this past week at his parent's house. He needed metal work done on the Camaro and his Dad is a sheet metal fabricator. For a few days the Camaro was in pieces. So we both finally put that car back together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then on Monday, I was suckered in to going shopping with the mother in law. I hated ever minute of it. She wanted to get new furniture. So I tried to tell her where a furniture warehouse was and I ended up having to go with her. We looked at furniture of 5 hours! OMG!! I almost wanted to kill myself. But where we went, my friend is in charge of pricing all of the inventory. So I called her to come and see if she could get the mother in law a better price. Mindy did. Mindy took almost $500 off of a three piece set couch set and a three piece end table set.  Well the next day, the mother in law saw a bubble on the coffee table and asked me if Mindy knew if they could fix it. I asked her and Mindy said they couldn't. So the mother in law got pissed at me like it was my fault. So I told her I won't ask my friend to hook her up on any more deals. The mother in law wants to order another love seat and chair to go with the set. So I'm not going to have Mindy do it, if the mother in law wants to bitch about a bubble on a $200 end table set that usually costs $ 800, then screw that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that is what I have been doing. Next week is going to be another busy one. I have to take the girls for their check ups and I have an eye quack appointment. Plus I think I have to take a class so I can get financial aid for my nursing program also. So if I don't post anything, that's what I will be doing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-7875579135914746216?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7875579135914746216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7875579135914746216' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7875579135914746216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7875579135914746216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/busy-again.html' title='Busy Again'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-5026319525031580209</id><published>2008-08-28T17:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T17:54:59.219-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weeee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SLcd5qiDToI/AAAAAAAAAfU/8p31plobGuk/s1600-h/me.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239689567975722626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SLcd5qiDToI/AAAAAAAAAfU/8p31plobGuk/s320/me.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I finally got my teeth! Weee! I can eat once again. They look really goofy. I have these big ol chompers. But I have to wait a little bit for my mouth to get use to them. I am glad that it's all over with. I don't look like a crackhead or white trash any more. Although I do look a little retarded with the giant teeth, and I talk funny. In time my face will relax around them and I will look and talk normal again.&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/14817400-5026319525031580209?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5026319525031580209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=5026319525031580209' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5026319525031580209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5026319525031580209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/weeee.html' title='Weeee'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SLcd5qiDToI/AAAAAAAAAfU/8p31plobGuk/s72-c/me.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-1761397391906363190</id><published>2008-08-28T11:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T11:31:31.247-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Question of the Week #12</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I’m sure most of us have a proudest moment when it comes to knitting. A project or technique that you’ve tackled and completed beautifully. What is your proudest knitting moment??&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When I learned how to knit socks that didn't look all jacked up. Now that is what I mainly knit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And on the flip side? What is the one thing that you can’t get right? What is that one project that you’ve never been able to complete? Or that you did complete but then hid away instantly because it was too embarrassing?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I can't graft to save my life. I have tried and tried and I still can't get it.  I am still working on a sweater for Makayla. If I ever get to it, it will be to small for her and Bryanna. I have never made anything that I was embarrassing. It may have looked all funky but I am always proud of what I create.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-1761397391906363190?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1761397391906363190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=1761397391906363190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/1761397391906363190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/1761397391906363190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/question-of-week-12.html' title='Question of the Week #12'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7186077120612599985</id><published>2008-08-25T17:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T17:27:22.104-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Question of the Week #11</title><content type='html'>What is the best thing you have gotten/received in the mail?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have to say a note from the mob and my boyfriends ear in the envelope. No I'm joking. Yarn and knitting goodies those are the best. Well I like to get lots of things in the mail. All but bills and junk mail.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-7186077120612599985?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7186077120612599985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7186077120612599985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7186077120612599985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7186077120612599985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/question-of-week-11.html' title='Question of the Week #11'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-3779258695397100790</id><published>2008-08-25T16:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T17:19:49.209-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Week</title><content type='html'>Okay, last week was a killer. I was so busy, I need a vacation from it. I had many doctor appointments. Getting Bryanna registered for school. Bryanna's Kindergarten test. Two different open houses for school. Getting Makayla ready for school. My sister and her kids came in town. Then I had my cousins wedding. I know it doesn't seem like that much, but I was running around all over getting shit done. My week was jam packed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of all of that, I just found out today that  I have to have my gallbladder removed next month.  I am on a special diet to. I can't have any good things to eat. I have to be basically a vegetarian. So that sucks. Oh, plus I am still waiting on my results of my cervical biopsy. I hate the waiting game. Especially with the biopsy. I might have cancer and I might not, but we will make her wait. I am all kinds of fucked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day I had my biopsy was fun. Well I tried to have fun. Let's see, I had 1 nurse and 5 doctors in this small ass room. At first it was only a doctor, a student doctor and a nurse. Then they brought 2 other doctors in. After that I said to the nurse, " If someone else wants to come in, they have to pay $20 to get in." Everyone in the room started laughing. Well they did there test and it hurt. They had that thing opened as wide as it would go. So it hurt a lot. Then the chief I think that's what he was asked me if I was in pain. So I said, " yeah, it hurts." Then he asked me to describe the pain. So I said, " It feels like there is something in there that is not supposed to be in there and I am getting a draft. So close it up." I was totally serious and he thought it was funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came the fun part. The part when they actually had to take a piece of my cervix. I'm not going to lie. That shit hurt and it hurt a whole fucking lot. So I was in pain and grabbing the sides of the table. So the chief guy said, " Now you will feel some pinching and cramping." My big ass. I said," Do you have a cervix? No. Well when you get a cervix and have this done, you can tell me what pinching and cramping feels like." The nurse looked at me like Hell yeah! But she didn't say anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I made him mad so he left the room. But fuck that short little bastard. It didn't feel nothing like pinching and cramping. It felt more like ripping and tearing and then someone kicking you in the stomach. They all left but the first doctor and the student doctor. I saw the picture of my cervix on the screen. It looks really gross. They were typing something and getting ready to send it to the lab or something. So I was still sitting there half naked waiting to get dressed. Both of them really didn't know what they were supposed to type or how to send it. So I was sitting there for a good 10 minutes waiting on them to leave. So after that 10 minutes I said," Is that my cervix?" The told me yes. So I said, " It kind of looks like a porn starts butthole all used up don't it?"  They both about pissed their pants. So the doctor said, " In medical school they describe it like a wad of chewed up gum, but I think I have to agree with you on that one."  So I think I made their day a little bit better. Well I get nervous and I use humor to get over it. Plus I just wanted to get the hell out of there before they decided they wanted to do some other mid-evil thing on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well on the lighter side here are some pictures. From today and last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SLMZTT1j-vI/AAAAAAAAAfI/afkItQNozNo/s1600-h/bry.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238558611095157490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SLMZTT1j-vI/AAAAAAAAAfI/afkItQNozNo/s320/bry.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is Bryanna on her first day of kindergarten. She looks so thrilled doesn't she?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SLMY78bV7fI/AAAAAAAAAfA/k-H8jNr55S0/s1600-h/m.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238558209674178034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SLMY78bV7fI/AAAAAAAAAfA/k-H8jNr55S0/s320/m.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Makayla has her new glasses, finally. Now maybe she can see better. She really doesn't like to ware them. So I have been on her case about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SLMYzclF2GI/AAAAAAAAAe4/mDKOeG6kvdI/s1600-h/jl.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238558063686178914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SLMYzclF2GI/AAAAAAAAAe4/mDKOeG6kvdI/s320/jl.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Finally, here is my cousin getting married. He looked great and so does his new wife. I am really happy for them. I had a great time at the wedding. James sort of did. At the end he started to have fun. The girls had a blast dancing and blowing bubbles at people and playing with their cousins. Plus they kept ringing the bell for them to kiss. I forgot my camera so I only had this picture of the wedding. I was rushing out the door because James went golfing with Lamar that morning. So I had to hurry everyone along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-3779258695397100790?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3779258695397100790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=3779258695397100790' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/3779258695397100790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/3779258695397100790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/long-week.html' title='Long Week'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SLMZTT1j-vI/AAAAAAAAAfI/afkItQNozNo/s72-c/bry.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-5720415958951520021</id><published>2008-08-14T07:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T07:17:04.299-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Question of the Week #10</title><content type='html'>What Olympic event would best describe your knitting/knitting style?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have to say, the triathlon. I have so many projects to do and I try and finish them all. I am working on 3 different pairs of socks right now. I have one of each pattern done. So hopefully I can finish them all before fall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-5720415958951520021?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5720415958951520021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=5720415958951520021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5720415958951520021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5720415958951520021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/question-of-week-10.html' title='Question of the Week #10'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-3846524813254776886</id><published>2008-08-12T20:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T20:52:47.715-04:00</updated><title type='text'>That Time of Year</title><content type='html'>Well tomorrow I will be 29. Yes, I am almost the big 30. I'm not upset that I will be 30 soon. The thing that sucks is, I think my body hates me now. I don't understand why my body hates me, but it does. It hates to get up in the morning. It hates when it rains. It hates when I eat spicy foods. I doesn't like it when I try and show the kids back bends. It doesn't like me to sit on the floor to long. It doesn't like me to carry heavy things. And my body likes it's fiber. If it doesn't get it's fiber, it will show me that it hates me. Like I said, my body hates me now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have noticed the little things like, the starting of the crows feet. Then the sagging boobs. I used to have nice big perky boobs. Now I have to make sure I ware a bra or I will elbow them. Then I have little gray hairs. What the hell is that all about?  I am starting to understand the phrase, " getting old is hell". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Happy Fucking Birthday to me. It's all down hill from here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-3846524813254776886?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3846524813254776886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=3846524813254776886' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/3846524813254776886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/3846524813254776886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/that-time-of-year.html' title='That Time of Year'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-4691064507303294120</id><published>2008-08-08T00:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T00:48:15.249-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When I Get My Head Out of My Ass</title><content type='html'>Well I haven't done a whole lot this week. I went back to the dentist to get fitted for my dentures and I took Makayla to the eye quack and she needs glasses. I knew she needed glasses, but she was a dork at her last visit. She didn't tell the eye quack what she saw or what was going on. So this time, she actually let the doctor do what he needed to do. So she will be able to see and it will probably fix her school problem. She didn't do so well last year and now I think I know why. The girl couldn't see what was going on, so she fucked off and didn't pay attention. So in two weeks she will be able to see. She tried on glasses and said, " I will look like a dork."  So I told her, " Well at least you will be a dork that can see."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I got a lovely call from the baby daddy. He is such a dumb ass. He called to see if he could see Makayla before she went back to school. So I told him next week would be fine since she goes to school the week after and her cousins from Virginia will be in town. Well he can't see her next week. He is going to Akron to see some 37 year old woman with 4 kids that he met off the Internet. I'm glad to see that getting laid is still his top priority. Then he got pissed and said something about it is none of my business what he does in his personal life. I told him that I wasn't pissed about that, I was pissed that getting laid was more important than his child. So blah, blah, blah. I'm a stupid cunt and yadda, yadda, yadda. So I reminded him about what happened the last time he called me a stupid cunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; ( I hung up the phone, drove over to where he was at and punched him in the face as hard as I could. Then I proceeded to grab him by his goodies and told him to call that name to my face and see what happens. That was right after I had Makayla so I was a tiny bit hormonal.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I he was trying to be a hard ass, like he thinks he is. Which he isn't. If my Mom can make him cry and I can kick his ass, then he is not even close to being a hard ass. Then he said Ami ( the other baby momma) and I are conspiring together against him to fuck his life up. LMFAO!!! I told him he does a good job of that on his own and he doesn't need any help from us. So he told me I ruined his life. Nope. He did that on his own to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I told him if he really wants to see Makayla, then he can find time before he leaves to see the woman old enough to be his Mom. So he said he doesn't have any money or a car to come up and see her. I told him that he doesn't have any bills to pay, but his phone bill, so he should have money. Blah, blah, blah. Excuse, excuse, excuse. So I told him I would think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have and I don't think so. But I wont tell him that. I will be just like him and not call. He doesn't like to call me because I don't take his shit like Ami, and he knows this. Plus I think he is just a tiny bit afraid of me still. Well after my little 5 foot tall ass beat the shit out of him in front of his friends, he should be afraid. When we were together, he tried to be a wife beater. Well homie don't play that. So that's why I beat the shit out of him. Plus he deserved it. So the only time he calls me is when he needs something or starts to feel bad about being a shitty father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the week after net should be very interesting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-4691064507303294120?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4691064507303294120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=4691064507303294120' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4691064507303294120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4691064507303294120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/when-i-get-my-head-out-of-my-ass.html' title='When I Get My Head Out of My Ass'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-8955285899911679608</id><published>2008-08-06T08:46:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T09:02:51.962-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh the Mess</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SJmesIpNAkI/AAAAAAAAAew/_rW4VoP67Es/s1600-h/things+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231386923239277122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SJmesIpNAkI/AAAAAAAAAew/_rW4VoP67Es/s320/things+023.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Since I have a new puppy, I forget how puppies are. It's been over 10 years since I have had a puppy around. Well Chevy decided that my yarn is a great way to have fun and to piss me off. I come home last night from Knit and Crochet night at the Eagles, and I find this all over my living room. Half of my sock was eaten and my yarn was all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have all of my work in progress/sock yarn in my little basket by my chair. Most of my yarn is covered up with my knitting books and yarn that are in bags that I haven't even opened yet. Well one of my books, the corner is chewed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After what was supposed to be a fun time for me wasn't. So today when I am done doing laundry, I am going to have to untangle that mess and all of the others. Ugh, more work. All I wanted to do today was finish laundry and start on Lamar's second sock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SJmem7DXTYI/AAAAAAAAAeo/BhGDqk26j5c/s1600-h/things+024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231386833691561346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SJmem7DXTYI/AAAAAAAAAeo/BhGDqk26j5c/s320/things+024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well here is Lamar's Bengal's sock. I dyed the yarn Bengal's colors. Every new season, I make Lamar new socks. So after my mess, I will start on the second one. I used the Chevron pattern from my Sensational Knitted Socks book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-8955285899911679608?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8955285899911679608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=8955285899911679608' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8955285899911679608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8955285899911679608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-mess.html' title='Oh the Mess'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SJmesIpNAkI/AAAAAAAAAew/_rW4VoP67Es/s72-c/things+023.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-2434783668208265695</id><published>2008-08-06T08:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T08:43:15.644-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Question of the Week #9</title><content type='html'>Have you ever entered your knitting (or anything else) in the fair? Would you ever consider it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No I have not. I might consider it. I know short and sweet and to the point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-2434783668208265695?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2434783668208265695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=2434783668208265695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2434783668208265695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2434783668208265695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/question-of-week-9.html' title='Question of the Week #9'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-5833152966949542318</id><published>2008-07-30T16:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T16:21:25.778-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Question of the Week #8</title><content type='html'>What is your favorite supper for a hot summer evening?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love a good pasta salad. I have been trying out new recipes for pasta salad. This &lt;a href="http://www.kraftfoods.com/kf/recipes/feta-vegetable-rotini-salad-75143.aspx"&gt; one&lt;/a&gt; is still a good old stand by.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-5833152966949542318?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5833152966949542318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=5833152966949542318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5833152966949542318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5833152966949542318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/question-of-week-8.html' title='Question of the Week #8'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7164610417030424831</id><published>2008-07-29T17:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T04:29:53.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yarn I Dyed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI-QfG9q7hI/AAAAAAAAAeg/WuMQETxzgjo/s1600-h/things+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228556556520058386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI-QfG9q7hI/AAAAAAAAAeg/WuMQETxzgjo/s320/things+022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is my Greenbay Packers Yarn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI-QZv-qfhI/AAAAAAAAAeY/Mp6OV1tkaBw/s1600-h/things.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228556464450862610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI-QZv-qfhI/AAAAAAAAAeY/Mp6OV1tkaBw/s320/things.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is just a red, blue and black self striping yarn. I am pretty proud of myself for trying out acid dyes. I think I did a pretty good job for my first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-7164610417030424831?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7164610417030424831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7164610417030424831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7164610417030424831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7164610417030424831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/yarn-i-dyed.html' title='Yarn I Dyed'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI-QfG9q7hI/AAAAAAAAAeg/WuMQETxzgjo/s72-c/things+022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-2652577886988958338</id><published>2008-07-28T15:03:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T04:29:54.548-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy Weekend</title><content type='html'>Today I dyed some sock yarn. I just got my dye kit from Knitpicks. So I was very happy to see that the package finally came. So I tried out my first dye job with acid dyes. I think it turned out very pretty. I used blue, red and black. I mixed both the blues and reds to get a richer color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI4YqBHWvfI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/9SCY6zl9TzA/s1600-h/things+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228143327556582898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI4YqBHWvfI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/9SCY6zl9TzA/s320/things+016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is my yarn drying. I know I have yarn hanging over my pantry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI4YlYgC4tI/AAAAAAAAAeI/4NDl1Fgiizc/s1600-h/things+015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228143247934808786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI4YlYgC4tI/AAAAAAAAAeI/4NDl1Fgiizc/s320/things+015.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is the blue dye I used.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI4YfhLthhI/AAAAAAAAAeA/vdZKSlDsdeE/s1600-h/things+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228143147186226706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI4YfhLthhI/AAAAAAAAAeA/vdZKSlDsdeE/s320/things+014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is where I stretched out for the striping. Excuse the mess, I have no storage areas like closets in my house. So James has all of his car and all of his tool stuff in my dining room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI4Yab4MoBI/AAAAAAAAAd4/sVfer6-OM8s/s1600-h/things+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228143059862855698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI4Yab4MoBI/AAAAAAAAAd4/sVfer6-OM8s/s320/things+013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Who needs a swift when you have a 7 year old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI4YT3XHM_I/AAAAAAAAAdw/eW18nploUrY/s1600-h/things+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228142946981196786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI4YT3XHM_I/AAAAAAAAAdw/eW18nploUrY/s320/things+005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is another picture of Chevy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI4YNd0ankI/AAAAAAAAAdo/rVn2GPcS4-w/s1600-h/things+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228142837045567042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI4YNd0ankI/AAAAAAAAAdo/rVn2GPcS4-w/s320/things+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is Makayla and my Step-Mom Carolann.&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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI4YEnrxMAI/AAAAAAAAAdg/JfQMx01sstE/s1600-h/things+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228142685074829314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI4YEnrxMAI/AAAAAAAAAdg/JfQMx01sstE/s320/things+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Makayla, Carolann and my Dad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So my Dad and Step-Mom came for their yearly visit. It all went well, sort of. We all caught up on whats been going on and what not. I was filled in on all of the stuff going on, on his side of the family. All of the crazy antics and what everyone has been up to. I really don't see or talk to anyone from his side of the family. I see my uncle every few months, and I talk to my aunt twice a year. As for my other uncle, I really don't see or talk to him. When my Grandmother died, everyone just went their separate ways. Then when Grandpa died, everyone got together for that like 10 years later.  So it was nice to hear what's been going on with everyone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Well Carolann has been doing the same stuff, but with out the headache of Dad's drinking. He has been "sober" for about 2 years now. Plus he has worked at the same place for over a year. He worked at the V.A Medical Center for 20 years  or so before he retired early. After he retired he drank more and did less. He had odd jobs for the past 5 years but never kept them. So I guess this is a big deal that he has had the same job for a while. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But drunks that get sober are like sinners getting saved. He was on my case about drinking. Well I hardly drink. So my liver will be fine. Then he made comments about my Mom and her going to the Eagles. So I told him that she is not a drunk, she just likes to drink. But even if she is classified as a alcoholic, she is a functioning alcoholic. Plus she has never been an asshole like he was to people when she is drinking. So he made the comment about the reason why they divorced was. He said, " She divorced me for my drinking, and she is the one who is drinking all the time."   So I told him that he made her that way because he was a cheating asshole, who took his kids to his fuck buddies houses while she was at work, working her ass off all night. Do I have a big mouth or what? I can't help it. I am missing that filter from my brain to my mouth as James puts it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It wouldn't be right with out a stupid fight though. We had a little argument about a birth certificate. He said he had my original birth certificate, which he doesn't. I have that. Well he gave me the so called original and it was stamped in '93. Hmm, the one I have was stamped in '80. Then he brought up when I was 18 he tried to claim me on his taxes and I claimed myself and he got an audit for that.  So we had a little tiff about that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So that was my fun filled weekend with my Dad and other stuff. Gotta love it when family visits.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&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;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/14817400-2652577886988958338?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2652577886988958338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=2652577886988958338' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2652577886988958338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2652577886988958338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/busy-weekend.html' title='Busy Weekend'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SI4YqBHWvfI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/9SCY6zl9TzA/s72-c/things+016.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-1727469652648079969</id><published>2008-07-25T16:02:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T04:29:54.661-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Package</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SIoxeLWtAvI/AAAAAAAAAdY/PWbUXHVe2ME/s1600-h/sp.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227044712030733042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SIoxeLWtAvI/AAAAAAAAAdY/PWbUXHVe2ME/s320/sp.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is what came in the mail for me today. I got my first package from my Secret Pal. I have a lot of neat yarn. Now all I have to do is figure out what I am going to make with it all. I have some sock yarn, and some dk and worsted. I think I might make the girls their yearly scarfs out of that yarn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So thanks Secret Pal! I love it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-1727469652648079969?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1727469652648079969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=1727469652648079969' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/1727469652648079969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/1727469652648079969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/package_25.html' title='Package'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SIoxeLWtAvI/AAAAAAAAAdY/PWbUXHVe2ME/s72-c/sp.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-5415264436651425885</id><published>2008-07-24T16:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T16:34:53.611-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Question #7</title><content type='html'>What is(are) your favortie place(s) to knit? My green chair. It reclines and the arm rests are the perfect height for my elbows to rest on. Sofa Express closed in my town and I got that chair for a really good price. It was $600 and I paid $250 for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What supplies(besides yarn &amp;amp; needles) make setting perfect for knitting? The remote, my drink of choice and my smokes. I can sit for hours knitting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-5415264436651425885?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5415264436651425885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=5415264436651425885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5415264436651425885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5415264436651425885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/question-7.html' title='Question #7'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-1013868828087479598</id><published>2008-07-23T19:43:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T20:31:19.013-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Has it Been that Long?</title><content type='html'>Well I got an invite to my 10 year High School Reunion. That's right, &lt;a href="http://huberheightscityschools.org/schools/wayne/"&gt;Wayne High School&lt;/a&gt; class of 1998 is having their reunion. I checked out the little&lt;a href="http://www.classreport.org/usa/oh/huber_heights/whs/1998/"&gt; website&lt;/a&gt; that was on the invite to see what it was all about. Half of the people I knew aren't even on there or are listed as missing. The only person I still talk to from high school is listed as missing. Well he's not missing, I know where he is at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reunion is being held at a bar in Dayton. Well I have never heard of the bar that the function is being held at. Plus they want $35 for a ticket to attend. Well, as I see it, I really don't want to pay $35 to see people I really didn't like. I hardly remember the people in my graduating class. I was in a work study program. So I was only in school for 3 hours a day. What can I say, the work study was for the bastard children of the high school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I was a trouble maker in school. I think my freshman year of high school I only went for a few weeks at a time. I skipped school A LOT. My favorite one was when I skipped school to go bowling. That was great. I got caught the next day and the principal called me a whore. Yes he called me a whore because, I skipped with a bunch of my guy friends. That principal should have been fired for that but, like they would believe a trouble maker like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got into a lot of fights to. But I was smart and never got caught for those. Oh, the stupid shit that I did in high school. I'm glad I got all of that out of my system before I got older.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I just called my one friend from high school and told him about the shin dig. He thought it was funny that he was listed as missing. I told him we should go together and act like we were married. He was a bigger trouble maker than I was. He got into drugs really bad in school. So he is now just getting his life back together. I still don't know if I am going to go or not. I don't feel like it has been long enough to see those people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hell if I really want a reunion, I could just go to Wal-Mart once a week and see some of them. I try to avoid them when I see them. I don't know why I do, but I do. I really did not like the people in my class. I guess it was because I didn't "fit in" to a certain group. Plus I really didn't care either. I made sure people knew, I didn't give a shit what they thought about me. That's probably why they treated me like shit. When I went to school, I just wanted to be left alone. But you know I always has some stupid bitch, that wanted to look cool in front of her friends that would fuck with me. I guess we all had one of those.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this particular girl and I had problems since middle school. Before I got to high school, I was a band nerd. Well she sat next to me in my section. She was a chair ahead of me. I really didn't care. It was fun to have a class that I really didn't have homework in. Plus I liked music. Well this one day we had sort of a free day. The band teacher was doing his monthly interview kind of thing to see if you could move up to the next chair. I didn't do it because I really didn't care. Well this girl was across the room and threw a piece of her instrument and it hit me in the head. She threw it hard. I looked up at the direction that the piece came from and saw her laughing with her friends. I threw the chairs out of my way and proceed to kick her ass. I took the clarinet from her hand and beat her with it. Mind you I was 14. At the time I was also in Kung-Fu, so I knew how to kick ass very well. So after I kicked her ass I got taken to the principals office along with her. I told the principal what had happened and I didn't get in trouble. Well I got a detention for a week. She got suspended for a week. So that was the start of our feud. So all through high school she would fuck with me. Well she would try. All I had to do was just give her a friendly reminder when she was alone in the bathroom or something, that I would kick her ass again. I also told her I didn't care if I got suspended, because I really didn't want to be a school in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I will still have to ponder on this one for a while. The function isn't for a few weeks. I kind of want to go, but then again do I really want to hang out with people I really didn't like. I guess it's like the saying, put want in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-1013868828087479598?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1013868828087479598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=1013868828087479598' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/1013868828087479598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/1013868828087479598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/has-it-been-that-long.html' title='Has it Been that Long?'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-3732180964891462749</id><published>2008-07-16T09:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T09:29:16.696-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Question of the Week #6</title><content type='html'>What is your favorite project to take on vacation with you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Socks. They are portable and small. You don't have to worry about to much with that project. Plus they wont get to in the way or tangled up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-3732180964891462749?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3732180964891462749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=3732180964891462749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/3732180964891462749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/3732180964891462749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/question-of-week-6.html' title='Question of the Week #6'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-2215324859247153117</id><published>2008-07-14T08:02:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T04:29:55.405-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Road Trip</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHtCD_UMIxI/AAAAAAAAAco/gKgl3XhITAw/s1600-h/chevy.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222840829169378066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHtCD_UMIxI/AAAAAAAAAco/gKgl3XhITAw/s320/chevy.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well first here is the newest addition to the family. This is Chevy. This is the first picture I have got of her that she has been sitting still. We got her about a week ago. Hunter has not been doing well this past month and we think it's almost time to put him to sleep. He has been having strokes and I know this because his back legs will lean to one side. Not only that, he has been having seizures for a few years. He hasn't had one in over a month, but he is pretty old. We think he is about 12 or 13. So we got a puppy for the George Carlin theory. You know " Life is a series of dogs. Once one dies you go get another one." She has been good for him. He has been playing with her and moving around more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHtBsA872LI/AAAAAAAAAcg/mMEc0p9MOiI/s1600-h/sting.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222840417291851954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHtBsA872LI/AAAAAAAAAcg/mMEc0p9MOiI/s320/sting.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We decided to go on a little road trip yesterday. We took the girls to the &lt;a href="http://newportaquarium.com/"&gt;Newport Aquarium&lt;/a&gt; in Kentucky. It was about an hour away. The girls really loved it. But it was very crowded. I tried to get a few pictures of the girls while we were there, but people are very rude. They let their kids run wild and they just ran into our kids and pushed them out of the way of the exhibits. I would have liked to have spent more time there, but I was ready to scream at the rude people. So we had an alright time. I think next time we will try and go during the week, if James gets a vacation day. So here are some of the pictures I took. Most of the other pictures are of the rude people pushing their way to see all of the fish and stuff. So I don't want any pictures of the rude assholes on my blog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This first picture was taken in a tunnel. So I got a really good picture of a sting ray. I figured the rude people wouldn't be on the ceiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHtBY72gxzI/AAAAAAAAAcY/Pg8hgBqcNrA/s1600-h/shark.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222840089505220402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHtBY72gxzI/AAAAAAAAAcY/Pg8hgBqcNrA/s320/shark.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Lazy shark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHtBFH8BcSI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/U2ZyQsEglcU/s1600-h/jelly2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222839749152174370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHtBFH8BcSI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/U2ZyQsEglcU/s320/jelly2.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Glow in the dark Jellyfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHtAwM3nwoI/AAAAAAAAAcI/M7yV5yuWsRU/s1600-h/jelly.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222839389698638466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHtAwM3nwoI/AAAAAAAAAcI/M7yV5yuWsRU/s320/jelly.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Another Jellyfish.&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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-2215324859247153117?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2215324859247153117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=2215324859247153117' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2215324859247153117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2215324859247153117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/road-trip.html' title='Road Trip'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHtCD_UMIxI/AAAAAAAAAco/gKgl3XhITAw/s72-c/chevy.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-5176912383851205298</id><published>2008-07-13T19:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T04:29:55.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Package</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHqKu3twLqI/AAAAAAAAAcA/DVmCMEg0HY4/s1600-h/yarn.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222639255723978402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHqKu3twLqI/AAAAAAAAAcA/DVmCMEg0HY4/s320/yarn.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is my package from my Secret Pal. It is a sock package kit. It came with a pattern for a pair of socks and a little bag. Knitting needles, yarn and stitch markers and a tapestry needle. I will have to get started on that pattern after I am done with the Butterfly Bow pattern I am doing right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Secret Pal I am really going to enjoy making socks out of the yarn.&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/14817400-5176912383851205298?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5176912383851205298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=5176912383851205298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5176912383851205298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5176912383851205298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/package.html' title='Package'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHqKu3twLqI/AAAAAAAAAcA/DVmCMEg0HY4/s72-c/yarn.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-1728564029190448748</id><published>2008-07-10T09:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T09:08:17.081-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Question of the Week #5</title><content type='html'>What is your favorite place to go on vacation/holiday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know. I haven't been on vacation in a long time. Well the last place I went was to my sisters house for Thanksgiving with my Mom and the girls. I guess my favorite place for a vacation was camping. I like being outside and getting away from all of the hustle and bustle of the city. It is very peaceful and relaxing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is one place you would like to go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would love to see the ocean. I have never seen the ocean ever. Well I have flown over a little part of it, on the east coast but that was about it. So any ware that has an ocean and it is warm so I can swim in it, would be the one place I would like to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-1728564029190448748?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1728564029190448748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=1728564029190448748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/1728564029190448748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/1728564029190448748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/question-of-week-5.html' title='Question of the Week #5'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-602483947466171719</id><published>2008-07-09T07:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T08:06:10.846-04:00</updated><title type='text'>All Is Well</title><content type='html'>Monday I got a few estimates for the damage of my car. Well that asshole did $1,500 worth of damage. The damage that was already done to my car is only $500. So all together I have $2,000 worth of damage to a car that is worth $3,000. The engine and transmission are in great condition. It has a lot of miles on it, but it's a '96. Plus I get around 600 miles to a full tank. Which is great in these times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wal-Mart didn't total my car. They are sending me a check for $1,478. They are going to over night the check to me. So I will be able to get my car fixed. As James put it I have $2,000 tires on my car. Yep, they still made us pay for the tires.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday afternoon James and I went to Wal-Mart to give them the estimates for the damage. Well there were no managers in the store. All there were was an assistant manager. Hmm, what a nice time not to have any managers in the store. So James got the number to their claims department and called there insurance person his self. We were not going to get jerked off by Wal-Mart. So after about an hour waiting around for the number they finally got back to us. So James was super pissed. I was to. I was so mad my hands were shaking. James can keep his cool way better than I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had to fax the estimates to the lady and with in about 2 hours she got back to us and told us that they were going to mail us a check for the damages. So at least they didn't want to total my car. If they were going to total my car then I would have to open my mouth. So all is well with the Wal-Mart bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So fuck Wal-Mart! I am never going to shop in any of their stores. I will pay a higher price and go to Target or Meijer. So once we get the check, I am going to a junk yard and I am going to get the quarter panel a door, front and rear bumpers. Then I will take the car and get the rest of the stuff wrong with it and pay to get that fixed. I don't have the tools to fix the frame, so a body shop has to do that. Then I will put the parts on and have it painted. I can't put the newer parts on until the frame is straight. That would just defeat the purpose of getting the parts. So after all of that, my car will be like new. I know that is not what Wal-Mart is paying for, but that dumb ass shouldn't have been driving a stick shift if he didn't know how. The messed up thing is, after I got my tires, I was getting ready to get the rest of my car fixed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-602483947466171719?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/602483947466171719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=602483947466171719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/602483947466171719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/602483947466171719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/all-is-well.html' title='All Is Well'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-3344742215826653813</id><published>2008-07-06T22:17:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T04:29:56.068-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother Fucker!!!!</title><content type='html'>*** WARNING this is very NC-17***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well from my last post I had tire problems. Okay it's Sunday and the only tire place that is open is Wal-Mart. No big deal. I have a lot of things to do on Monday so I have no choice but to go to Wal-Mart and get tires or I'm screwed on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James and I drop my car off and go up the street and visit with the old neighbors, until the car is done. There is no sense in driving all the way back to our house and then have to come right back. Well James calls to see if the car is done. So he just goes alone to pay for it and get the keys, so I can hang out and bullshit with the neighbors. About 10 minutes later James calls me and tells me to have the neighbor drive me up to Wal-Mart. But he wont tell me why. Well as I was on my way up there he calls back to tell me that, the dumb mother fucker at Wal-Mart wrecked my car! That's right he wrecked my fucking car! But James is smart and tells me not to open my mouth and say anything because he will take care of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get there and I was pissed off. I was so mad I had to do all I could not to yell at the manager and kick him in the balls. Well James handled the problem because knowing me, I would have just made things worse with my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess what allegedly happened was the guy "forgot" that it was a stick shift and when he tried to start it, the car jumped and hit the tire changing machine. Now look at the pictures and tell me that he fucked up and was driving the car and ran it across the damn tire changing machine and just kept on going. That whole thing does not look like the car jumped. I have been driving a stick shift ever since I have had my license. I had not choice since that was the only car my Mother had, so I had to learn how to drive it if I wanted to go any ware. So I know how far the car will jump if you let off the clutch or not to push the clutch in when you start it. Plus I'm not car stupid either. I didn't get a chance to talk to any of the tire and lube people. There was another manager outside taking care of things. But from what James told me the guy that wrecked my car, was in the tire and lube managers office and that manager was red in the face and yelling at the guy. So I hope that mother fucker gets fired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, tomorrow James and I are going to get estimates and bring them back to Wal-Mart and Wal-Mart is supposed to pay for the damages. Granted the car was already wrecked a little. Most of the damage is in back and only a dent in the front and the bumped is whopper jawed. So if Wal-Mart wants to make a big deal out of this and not want to pay for it, believe me I will fuck there eyes out. I don't want them to fix the whole car just the shit THEY fucked up. They didn't do the rest, I bought it that way. That is why I only paid $500 for the car from a friend. I just hope they don't total the car. Then I have to get a salvage title and that is just one more big fucking mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that is how my 4th of July weekend has been. I hope every one else has had a better one than me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHF9Jl7q_cI/AAAAAAAAAbk/UyOzdlI-Z88/s1600-h/stuff+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220091046853803458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHF9Jl7q_cI/AAAAAAAAAbk/UyOzdlI-Z88/s320/stuff+019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is the quarter panel and my fucked up passenger side door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHF9D-vEUrI/AAAAAAAAAbc/doD8E685bpo/s1600-h/stuff+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220090950432608946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHF9D-vEUrI/AAAAAAAAAbc/doD8E685bpo/s320/stuff+018.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is the big ass fucking hole in my quarter panel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHF8-Ora3HI/AAAAAAAAAbU/E8VPiMVgRzE/s1600-h/stuff+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220090851633060978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHF8-Ora3HI/AAAAAAAAAbU/E8VPiMVgRzE/s320/stuff+012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is the whole damage from that stupid mother fucker. Yeah, the car jumped my big fucking ass. The dent in the front was already there. But since there is a big ass hole, I have to have a new quarter panel put on. Stupid mother fucking asshole, fucker that can't drive a stick shift, thanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-3344742215826653813?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3344742215826653813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=3344742215826653813' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/3344742215826653813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/3344742215826653813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/mother-fucker.html' title='Mother Fucker!!!!'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SHF9Jl7q_cI/AAAAAAAAAbk/UyOzdlI-Z88/s72-c/stuff+019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-6528822410849652922</id><published>2008-07-05T23:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T23:44:22.688-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother F%#@*$!</title><content type='html'>Well today started out great. I went to the store and got grocery's and paid bills. Normal stuff. Well this evening I went to a Dayton Dragons game. The girls really like to watch the local baseball games. James' Aunt has season tickets and she wasn't going to us them and asked us if we would like to go. Well James decided to finish his side job. So I asked the neighbors next door if they would like to go see a game. They are from Texas and don't know much about the Dayton area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all get to the game and had fun. There was even a fireworks show after the game. We all had a great time, until we were on our way home. Since there were two car loads of people we ended up getting split up. So I take the fastest way I know. Well I am on State Route 235 going through Park Layne and I hit something. Didn't see what it was since it was dark and I just kept on going. Well just as soon as we get through the light at State Route 40, my fucking tire blows. Okay, so I get out and go to change it. Well 40 is a very busy road. Like crazy busy. So I am trying to change the tire as fast as I can. Well as I am half way through changing the tire some wonderful woman pulls over and shines her lights so I can see what I am doing and so other people can see me. She was great. I didn't catch her name but she was going on about how " you don't see any of these men coming over to help, those lazy bastards." She was pretty funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally get the spare on. It was a doughnut so it is small. As I am lowering the car, the mother fucking spare is flat! So I tell the lady thanks and called James. He is on his way with some Fix-a-Flat. As we were waiting on him to get there, a cop pulls up behind me. Lori is across the street at the drive thru, to see if they are still open to get the girls something to drink. Well the cop asks the usual questions. So I tell him I hit something and I don't know what it was and I didn't see it. So I changed the tire and the spare was flat and I was waiting on James to get there to rescue me. He ran my tags and drivers license to see if I had any warrants or what ever. So I show the cop my tire and how the side was blown out. All is well. It took James about 20 minutes to get there and the whole time the cop sat behind me with his bright fucking lights shined in my window. I know he was just there to make sure no one hit us or something, but it got a little annoying. He could at least turned his bright lights off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well James gets there and fills up the tire and then he tells the cop he is going to follow me home. I get home and now I am trying to relax after that event. Since it is almost midnight on Saturday, I won't be able to get a new tire until Monday. So hence the title Mother F%#@*$!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-6528822410849652922?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6528822410849652922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=6528822410849652922' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6528822410849652922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6528822410849652922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/mother-f.html' title='Mother F%#@*$!'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-5740527005476238530</id><published>2008-07-02T18:07:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T18:13:59.164-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Question of the Week #4</title><content type='html'>1.What yarn (that you don't have/haven't used) would make your stash complete?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know about this one. I am a creature of habit. I really don't like that much change. I really haven't had the urge to try a new yarn yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.What yarn do yo never want to be without?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one is very easy. Sock yarn! I have more sock yarn than anything. I always have to have sock yarn since, knitting socks are my favorite. I can get them done pretty fast if I need to. I am not really into the big projects like sweaters. I get ADD with projects. So socks work out the best for me. Plus they are great gifts. And they are very unique. You just can't go to Wal-Mart or Target and get socks with the neat patterns on them. Plus you can make them fit your feet, unlike the manufactured ones.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-5740527005476238530?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5740527005476238530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=5740527005476238530' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5740527005476238530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5740527005476238530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/question-of-week-4.html' title='Question of the Week #4'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-5418661123869931458</id><published>2008-07-02T17:40:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T18:04:03.243-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's for Dinner?</title><content type='html'>Well I haven't been to the store to get food in a while and it shows. Well I haven't been home a whole lot these past few weeks. So tonight when I was looking for something to make for dinner, I was stumped. I had half things. You know only half of the things you need to make a whole dinner. Well I usually keep spaghetti in the house at all times since it only takes 10 minutes to make. Well I had no sauce. But I did have tomato sauce. So I made my own spaghetti sauce. Well it's a combo of and Alfredo and a tomato. I am not Italian in anyway. So I have really no idea how to make homemade spaghetti sauce. So here is how I made my sauce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used 3 big hand fulls of spaghetti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 stick of butter&lt;br /&gt;1 small can of tomato sauce&lt;br /&gt;about 2 tablespoons of garlic powder&lt;br /&gt;about 2 tablespoons of oregano&lt;br /&gt;about a tablespoon of sugar&lt;br /&gt;about 2 palm fulls of grated Parmesan cheese&lt;br /&gt;then salt and pepper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;( I never really measure anything, I just eye ball it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I put the stick of butter in the drained spaghetti and let it melt. I added the cheese to the spaghetti. I put the rest of the stuff in the tomato sauce, heated it up and tossed it all together. I did add a little more garlic and oregano to my bowl but it was really friggin good. It looks kind of gross with only a little red. It actually looks pink. I ate as much as I could until I was full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James hasn't tried it yet, but he will eat anything. When I say anything I mean he ate 3 month old stuffed jalapeno peppers from the fridge. I call him Jethro. You know from the Beverly Hillbillies. He eats a lot and eats everything. I was so used to making small things when I was living at home. Just my Mom, sister and I were at home. Maybe a 2 quart sauce pan full of chili would last us a few days. With James, that was one meal. So I had to learn how to cook big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; So that is my what you have in your cupboard spaghetti sauce.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-5418661123869931458?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5418661123869931458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=5418661123869931458' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5418661123869931458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5418661123869931458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/whats-for-dinner.html' title='What&apos;s for Dinner?'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-8873894634727724499</id><published>2008-07-01T09:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T09:49:17.776-04:00</updated><title type='text'>At the Doctor</title><content type='html'>I went to the crack quack yesterday. I am very very bad about not going to get my womanly exam. It has been around 4 years since my last exam. Anyways, I have lots of problems in that area. I know whats wrong but for the last 10 years or so every doctor thinks I'm either crazy or I am just looking to get drugs. I just want it fixed. I don't care how, I just don't want to feel like I am going to die from pain or bleed to death. Well finally I went to a totally different doctor. She heard what I had to say. ( I have that speech memorized since I have had to explain it so much) She did the exam. Well when she was feeling my ovaries and stuff she said she could feel a lump. That's not good. Then she moved my uterus and asked if it hurt when he moved it where it is supposed to be. So knowing me and how much it hurt when she did that, I said " Let me move one of your organs in a place it's not use to being and you tell me if it hurts."  ( It's better that I'm a smart ass than kick the lady in the face.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the exam she tells me she wants me to go get an ultrasound. I already told her to skip that part and just take it all. I really don't need it anymore. I am done having kids. I am sure as hell not going to pay $10,000 to reverse my tubes being tied. Like any normal Midwestern American family of 4 has $10,000 just laying around for the hell of it, just in case I want to have another child. Well lets see, with the first child, I almost bled to death. With the second one, they treated me like I was glass. Then after having Bryanna, the doctor told me if I had another child, there was a 70% chance I could die. Hmm, 70% is way to high of a death rate for me. So I opted to get my tubes tied to make sure I would never have a child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason I don't know why these doctors just don't give me a hysterectomy. From the time I was 16 I have been having problems. I guess they don't like to do that just because you want them to. Clearly I am having problems and they can look at that from all of my records. Just from when they did tie my tubes they zapped a hell of a lot of endometriosis and the doctor took a 12 inch long lesion covering my uterus and part of my tubes. Hello McFly! How can you just make up endomertiosis and a big ass lesion? Yeah, that's all in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully after I have this ultrasound in 2 weeks they will just take the problem out. Then I wont have to worry about this shit anymore. I bet they wont. They will just tell me to take some beefed up Advil and use a heating pad and get more exercise. Well that shit don't work. Yeah it just dulls the pain a smidgen, but what about the bleeding to death part. It is not normal for a woman to look pail when Aunt Flow is in town. But I guess the doctors think I am making it up or something. I will have to see what the ultrasound says. Then I can go from there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-8873894634727724499?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8873894634727724499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=8873894634727724499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8873894634727724499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8873894634727724499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/at-doctor.html' title='At the Doctor'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-6083314174836726179</id><published>2008-06-30T11:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T12:00:55.600-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Question of the Week #3</title><content type='html'>What do you consider the perfect amount of stash?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well enough for me to do at least 2 or 3 pairs of socks, some other yarn to do a dishcloth or a small blanket. I'm not stash crazy like the link from the Secret Pal blog. That stash is teetering on a serious problem. If I had that much yarn, I would probably open my own shop and sell some. That was just craziness!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-6083314174836726179?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6083314174836726179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=6083314174836726179' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6083314174836726179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6083314174836726179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/06/question-of-week-3.html' title='Question of the Week #3'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-3887985174652957276</id><published>2008-06-27T19:17:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T04:29:56.757-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Sad Day</title><content type='html'>Well I went to my neighbors funeral today. It was a sad day. I was very sad to see Jean go. She was such a great woman. I learned a whole lot from her. I used to spend a lot of time at her house sitting on her porch listening to her and my Mom talk about how life really was. She had so many great stories about the depression and how she grew up. She was a great drinker to. Jean could out drink anyone I knew. Plus she never really hated anyone. Jean was always there to help in any way she could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The service was nice and she looked at peace finally. Jean was battling cancer and once it hit her brain, she knew her fight was over. Jean was 82 years old. She had lived her life and she knew it was her time to go. I am glad that she is not suffering anymore. Towards the end, I saw her and I knew she just wanted to die. She was really ready to go. It made me sad that she was going to die. But I knew her day would come soon, once I heard that the cancer went from her lung to her brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone had great stories about her. We all had fun talking about her life and all of the things she had done. She would rather us had a great time and drink a few beers, than us sitting around crying over her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well the girls had fun to. It rained while I was waiting on James to come to her house. The rain stopped and the girls went back out to play. Well, I knew they would get dirty. No big deal right? Nope! I didn't know they would find the biggest mud puddle in Jeans back yard and sit right in it and play. I just thought they would just run and splash through the small part of it. Well they went to the deepest part and sat right in it. So needless to say, they had a great time today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SGV1POvQXgI/AAAAAAAAAbM/_yJvhspGWeo/s1600-h/mud2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216704647893376514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SGV1POvQXgI/AAAAAAAAAbM/_yJvhspGWeo/s320/mud2.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SGV1Hnl0aJI/AAAAAAAAAbE/T8fNsloAPX8/s1600-h/mud.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216704517125728402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SGV1Hnl0aJI/AAAAAAAAAbE/T8fNsloAPX8/s320/mud.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-3887985174652957276?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3887985174652957276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=3887985174652957276' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/3887985174652957276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/3887985174652957276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-sad-day.html' title='What a Sad Day'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SGV1POvQXgI/AAAAAAAAAbM/_yJvhspGWeo/s72-c/mud2.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7510901433172899381</id><published>2008-06-18T21:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T21:24:15.933-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Question of the Week #2</title><content type='html'>What did you look forward to the most when you were a kid about summer break?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I liked the fact that I didn't have to go to school. I hated going to school when I was a kid. I think my first year of high school I only went to school for about a month and that was it. The rest of the time I skipped. I was such a dumbass for doing that. But it all worked out okay. I graduated and it's all good. So that is my answer for the question of the week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-7510901433172899381?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7510901433172899381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7510901433172899381' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7510901433172899381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7510901433172899381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/06/question-of-week-2.html' title='Question of the Week #2'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-1823457108219139906</id><published>2008-06-14T12:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T12:19:16.139-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Question of the Week</title><content type='html'>Well the Secret Pal Question of the Week is..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite summertime drink??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it all depends on what my mood is. I usually like Iced Tea on a hot day. Sometimes I like a Long Island Iced Tea as well. But I'm really more fancy to a Sea Breeze. I guess it all depends on my mood and what is going on that day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-1823457108219139906?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1823457108219139906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=1823457108219139906' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/1823457108219139906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/1823457108219139906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/06/question-of-week.html' title='Question of the Week'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7510161408227683727</id><published>2008-06-07T18:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T19:20:12.742-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Did It Go?</title><content type='html'>Since my recent shopping adventure, I have realized I am not as fat as I think. Since it has been a very long while since I have bought shorts and or pants with out an elastic band, I ware a totally different size. Normally I ware either a 16 or and 18, depending on the maker of the clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well since I bought a pair of shorts without an elastic band, I got a size 18. I get home and try them on. Well the damn things fall off.( I don't have time to try on clothes in the store with two kids.) So I go back to the store and since James is home, so I get a chance to I go alone. I get a size 16 and a 14 just to make sure. Well neither of them fit. They are both to big. So I look in the mirror and take a glance at my ass. It still looks the same to me. Everything still looks the same. I still have the big hips and dun lap from having 2 c-sections. I don't know what the hell is going on. I go out and get a 12. Well I'd be damned. I ware a 12 now. How about that happy shit. I haven't worn a 12 since before I had kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am wondering where the hell my weight went. To me, I still look the same. I know it didn't go to my boobs. They, thank God, got smaller since I had kids. It's not in my arms or my legs. So where the hell did it go? That is a mystery to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go next door for a visit with neighbor Lori. Well she is weighing her self. She has been on a diet for a long time, from what she tells me. I get on the scale. The last time I was weighed, I weighed around 175. Now I weigh 152. So some ware I lost 23 pounds. Don't know ware. But it's gone. I don't know when this happened. I know I couldn't have lost 23 pounds in one week, since I had to get my teeth pulled. I would have noticed that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to know when the hell I lost it. Don't get me wrong, I don't want it back, I just want to know why nobody told me my ass got smaller. I do remember telling James when we first met, if my ass got any bigger to let me know. I guess I forgot to tell him to also let me know when it gets smaller.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't really changed my lifestyle that much. I did stop drinking Mountain Dew. I have been drinking Diet Coke. I still eat the same things. Well not for the last week I haven't. I can't eat a whole lot with out any top teeth. So for the past week I have been a vegetarian. I did get a little meat from the meat sauce from the lasagna I made. But that is about it for the meat. I don't know when I lost weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's the new city I moved to. Yeah, that's it. When I moved to a new city, the gravity changed. Yeah. There is different gravity in different cities. Just like the Bermuda Triangle, with all the weird shit that goes on there. There I go the mystery is solved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-7510161408227683727?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7510161408227683727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7510161408227683727' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7510161408227683727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7510161408227683727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/06/where-did-it-go.html' title='Where Did It Go?'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7615959495411843795</id><published>2008-06-05T10:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T11:05:49.541-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Shopping</title><content type='html'>I hate clothes shopping. I really do. I had to go shopping for a graduation party on Saturday. James' boss Jeff, his son is graduating and we were invited. So since they are kind of upper class, I had to get nice outfits for everyone. James and the girls are easy to shop for. Me on the other hand, that is a totally different story. I have to look like a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not that picky by any means. I find and outfit that I think looks cute and go try it on. Well have you ever noticed that clothes in smaller sizes look way better? That is my main problem. I am not even close to even being a size 6. So I have to find outfits that will cover my "problem" areas. My main problem is shopping for shirts. I have broad shoulders and arms like Popeye. Well not quite Popeye, but close. Then there is the chest. I am on the busty side, so I can't have anything low cut, our I will look like a hooker.  Then I really like the Capri pants. To everyone else, Capri pants come to the calf. For me, they are like normal pants. Then the style is to ware shorts really short. Well I don't like to ware shorts that short. My only other option with shorts are the longer shorts. Well I am at a in between age where I should be dressing older, but not old enough to ware some of the styles. Some of the styles make me look 10 or more years older than I am. I really don't like waring my shorts up to my boobs. But I also don't like to ware shorts that make me have a dun lap. ( Dun lap= my belly dun lapped over my pants.) This is why I really hate shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know everyone has their own issues with their body's. I don't shop for clothes unless I have to. I don't think I have bought clothes since high school. I will buy a shirt here and there. Mainly I buy men's clothes. I ware baggy non form fitting clothes. I like to be comfortable. Plus James and I ware the same size so it cuts down on costs there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did find a shirt and a pair of shorts that I can deal with. It doesn't have any car grease stains on it so I think I'm good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-7615959495411843795?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7615959495411843795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7615959495411843795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7615959495411843795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7615959495411843795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/06/shopping.html' title='Shopping'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-8840282814788135066</id><published>2008-06-03T21:11:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T21:26:47.585-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 5 Reasons</title><content type='html'>Top 5 reasons why you should ware a bra with a tank top....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Because our society today frowns upon it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. It is not the '60's anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. People will look at your chest knowing you are not waring a bra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. So you don't  look like white trash&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the number 1 reason why you should ware a bra with a tank top is.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Your boob will fall out and the weird drive-thru guy will have a great day because of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the drive-thru to get a pack of smokes. It is 8 o'clock and I don't care what I look like. Well I don't care what I look like most of the time anyways. So after I had my shower and it being hot, I put on one of James' tank tops. It's a little big, but no big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I go to the drive-thru. I get there and I'm getting ready to hand the weird drive-thru guy my money and it falls down the side of my door. I reach back to get it and I guess on of the "girls" felt like it was time for show and tell. I had know idea that my boob fell out. He comes back to give me my change and he is staring at me. Weird drive-thru guy and I have a special relationship. He always looks at me funny and asks really stupid questions. But today he was looking at me really weird. So I ask him, " what the hell is wrong with you today?"  That is when he says, " Uh, I think your tit fell out."  So I say, " Huh, how about that. Thanks for letting me know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Well I just put my boob back in and ask for my change like nothing happened. I get on to Main Street and I start busting up laughing. I was laughing so hard I was crying. I get home and I really want to tell James what happened, because it is so funny. He and Bryanna asleep on the couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just had to share my embarrassing moment with the whole world, because that is the type of person I am. I hope this little story makes every one's day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-8840282814788135066?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8840282814788135066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=8840282814788135066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8840282814788135066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8840282814788135066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/06/top-5.html' title='Top 5 Reasons'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7786277271581771375</id><published>2008-05-31T07:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T08:07:45.703-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Secret Pal 12 Questions</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;Here are my Q &amp;amp; A for the Secret Pal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What is/are your favorite yarn/s to knit with? What fibers do you absolutely *not* like?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mostly blended fiber sock yarn. I mostly get cotton/wool or silk/wool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I can't use 100%wool I itch way to much and my hands turn red.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What do you use to store your needles/hooks in?&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; I made a needle case for my straights and dpn's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. How long have you been knitting &amp;amp; how did you learn? Would you consider your skill level to be beginner, intermediate or advanced?&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I have been knitting off and on for about 10 years. I would think that I am leaning closer to advanced.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Do you have an Amazon or other online wish list? &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;nope&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. What's your favorite scent? &lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I like the clean linens and the fruity smells.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Do you have a sweet tooth? Favorite candy?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Yes, I really love Milkyway Bars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. What other crafts or Do-It-Yourself things do you like to do? Do you spin?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I sew and knit that is all for the crafting. I don't spin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. What kind of music do you like? Can your computer/stereo play MP3s? (if your buddy wants to make you a CD)&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Listen to my blog that will give you an idea. Yes they can play all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. What's your favorite color(s)? Any colors you just can't stand?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I love the neutral colors along with purples, greens and blues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. What is your family situation? Do you have any pets?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I 'm married and I have 2 girls, 5 and 7. I have one dog and one cat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Do you wear scarves, hats, mittens or ponchos?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I ware them all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. What is/are your favorite item/s to knit?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Socks, socks, socks. And baby items for chairty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. What are you knitting right now?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Socks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Do you like to receive handmade gifts?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Yes I do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Do you prefer straight or circular needles? Bamboo, aluminum, plastic?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Circulars for socks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Do you own a yarn winder and/or swift?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I have a winder and a swift. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. How old is your oldest UFO?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Maybe a year or so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. What is your favorite holiday?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Thanksgiving&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Is there anything that you collect?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Frogs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Any books, yarns, needles or patterns out there you are dying to get your hands on? What knitting magazine subscriptions do you have?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;A pair of Addi Turbo 24" size 2 circulars. I just go and buy the magazines if I like them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Are there any new techniques you'd like to learn?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;not really&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Are you a sock knitter? What are your foot measurements?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Yes and a size 9 womens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. When is your birthday?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;August 13th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Are you on Ravelry? If so, what's your ID?&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p class="post-title entry-title"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yes, SesameStKnitter&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-7786277271581771375?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7786277271581771375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7786277271581771375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7786277271581771375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7786277271581771375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/05/secret-pal-12-questions.html' title='Secret Pal 12 Questions'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-5120119142140733160</id><published>2008-05-23T12:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T12:48:09.797-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yarn Store</title><content type='html'>I just went to the new yarn store in Fairborn. I think I have found my new store. The &lt;a href="http://theyarnbasket.com/"&gt;Yarn Basket&lt;/a&gt; is closing at the end of May. I am kind of sad. I really liked that store. Cay, the owner, she was great at answering questions and if she ran out of a dye lot she would order more. But the store in Fairborn is awesome. She has lots and lots of sock yarn! Plus it is very kid friendly. She had her two kids there and they had lots of things for kids to do while you shop for yarn. She just opened her store in March. So she is still getting the store together. I even went to &lt;a href="http://knitmap.com"&gt;Knitmap&lt;/a&gt; and put in a review for that shop. I am so happy that I have found another store that I like.  I could have spent A LOT of money in there, but I was good and only got a few things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I am working on a pair of socks for my HSKS pal. I only have to start on the last sock and then I can send her package to her. I guess I will be one of the early birds. I also found some cute little things for her. But if I say it here it wont be a surprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm off to finish that sock.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-5120119142140733160?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5120119142140733160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=5120119142140733160' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5120119142140733160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5120119142140733160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/05/yarn-store.html' title='Yarn Store'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-2400551429260500144</id><published>2008-05-21T08:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T09:10:03.826-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Alive!</title><content type='html'>Ahh Ha Ha Ha! It's Alive! That's right the blazer is running again. After putting $200 into it, it is running once more. I knew he was just taking a nap. He just needed a little break after 23 years. Now I just have to fine all the vacuum lines that I really don't need and give him a tune up and an oil change and he will be good to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days ago James told me that I needed to make a decision about the blazer. He told me I needed to either hope that it was the fuel pump or I would have to have it hauled away to the junk yard. WTF? So I told him, You can't just haul the blazer away, he is part of the family. You wouldn't take Hunter to the vet to put him to sleep, just because he had the poopies. I love that damn car. That car is the easiest car to fix. Plus it is still pretty good on gas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after James put the fuel pump on, I started it up and it ran! I was so happy. I drove the blazer around the block and it was better than ever. I told James, "see I told you he was just taking a nap." Now I am going to take him to the car wash and clean him out and maybe wash him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do know that there are still a few little things I need to do to the blazer. I need to change the oil pan gasket. That thing is leaking like mad. Well not that bad but there is a bunch of gunk all over the engine from it. Then I might put some more Lucas in the transmission. James will be driving it for his work car. So I am going to have to trust that he will treat the blazer right. If not the blazer will get pissed off and stop running. He is an old man and very temperamental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm off to the car wash to clean him up. Just like after you have a baby, nothing like a shower to get all the hospital funk off of you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-2400551429260500144?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2400551429260500144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=2400551429260500144' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2400551429260500144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2400551429260500144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/05/its-alive.html' title='It&apos;s Alive!'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-618588476859424155</id><published>2008-05-20T09:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T10:22:27.024-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Bryanna Funny</title><content type='html'>Sunday James had a side job to do. Since it was a rental house we all went with him since he has been working so much. While we were there the girls were helping him and so was I. Well James was getting mad because people were coming by to see the house when he was trying to lay carpet. After a while the girls started to get bored and started running around and acting crazy. James only had a few more things to do then we were going to leave. Well Bryanna was getting on his nerves and pestering Makayla, so James told Bryanna to put her nose on the wall. She started mumbling and James asked her if she would behave. When she turned around she said, " Daddy, you ruined my life!"   I almost fell off the steps when she said that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-618588476859424155?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/618588476859424155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=618588476859424155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/618588476859424155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/618588476859424155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/05/bryanna-funny.html' title='A Bryanna Funny'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7838706687394315459</id><published>2008-05-13T09:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T09:27:40.813-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I sent in my request for my HSKS blog but it's not listed on the site. So for the people who check on my blogging here is my HSKS &lt;a href="http://daisyscrimgeour.blogspot.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;. I hope this will help a little. I don't want to confuse my actual blog with my character blog, becuse when I post stuff for that people might think I have lost my mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-7838706687394315459?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7838706687394315459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7838706687394315459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7838706687394315459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7838706687394315459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-sent-in-my-request-for-my-hsks-blog.html' title=''/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-6459596619085225549</id><published>2008-05-12T09:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T09:47:45.823-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Swap</title><content type='html'>Well I joined the HSKS 5 Swap. I have no clue as to how this thing goes, but I guess I will figure it out later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay it's been about a week since my last post. Well I did a whole lot of nothing. Well I did a bunch of running around for James and I put the rebuilt carburetor on the Blazer. Now I just have to figure out where all the damn vacuum lines go. That is the hard part. Well now James and I think the fuel pump went out also. So that is another thing I have to do this week. Oh joy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did pull a muscle in my arm putting the carburetor on, but I think I will live. I was surprised that I didn't bust a knuckle or cut myself. My hands are still stained with grease but I am slowly getting that all off. I need to get that gunk off before I start my HSKS project. I don't want to send a car grease stained item to my swap partner. Unless she likes that kind of stuff, I doubt that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm off to the Autozone to mind screw the guys who work there who try and tell me I need crap that I don't need to do the job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-6459596619085225549?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6459596619085225549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=6459596619085225549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6459596619085225549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6459596619085225549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/05/swap.html' title='Swap'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-8435070839865201175</id><published>2008-05-06T11:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T12:00:34.296-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Son of A *#%@!</title><content type='html'>I am in a mood today. All I wanted to do is make a few doctors appointments that's all. But I had to call like 30 different people to get an appointment. I have really bad women problems. There is something really wrong with me. I went to this one jerk off and he told me that there isn't anything they can do. So take some Advil and rest. What the fuck!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I am about to get really graphic) I shouldn't have things come out of places unless I am giving birth. Yeah, having a period that lasts longer than 2 weeks and become pail from all the blood loss is fucking normal! I don't mean to piss off the catholics but catholic run hospitals suck big donkey ass! They won't tie your tubes there and they wont give you an hysterectomy unless you are like in menopause. The doctor that did tie my tubes wanted to give me a hysterectomy but, I didn't sign a release for that and James and I weren't married at the time so he couldn't sign for it either. What a load of shit. But that doctor did lose is license because he was a pill popper and he was writing his own prescriptions for that stuff to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been going to this doctor since I was 16 and I have been having these same problems for over 10 years. He knows this.  He is the same one who told me to have kids before I was 25 when I was 16 because my parts are so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I guess it is all in my head right? But almost bleeding to death after having my first child and when I got my tubes tied having a 12 inch lesion taken off of my uterus is normal also. Not to mention all of the endometriosis that was lazered off inside and outside of the damn thing to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I just want to get my stuff fixed so I'm not in pain all the time and almost bleed to death once a month. They say if you soak a pad with in a hour there is something wrong. Well that is me every month for the first 5 days. I have even been to the ER and they didn't do a damn thing because I didn't have insurance. They did give me a pill to stop my period for two days, but then it came right back the same way on the third day. What a crock of shit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So since I have an hmo I can only go to certain doctors. Well it sees these doctors don't want to take my insurance now or aren't taking new patients. So I called like 30 different places to get an appointment. Well I don't go back until the end of June. On top of that I called to make an appointment to get my eyes checked. Well that was about the same thing. I called 10 different places and I finally got an appointment. So I don't go until the beginning of June for that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay now it's time to calm down right? Nope. I get my mail and I see that I have a letter from the city I used to live in. The letter said I needed to cut my grass. Well that is just tough shit mister city inspector, because I no longer own that house. So I left a message on his voice mail stating that I no longer own that property and whom ever owns it, it is their problem not mine and to stop sending me letters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn, it's not even noon yet and I have already had a shitty day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-8435070839865201175?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8435070839865201175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=8435070839865201175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8435070839865201175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8435070839865201175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/05/son-of.html' title='Son of A *#%@!'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-1079586154108627732</id><published>2008-05-02T07:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T08:05:32.517-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy</title><content type='html'>For not being home all week, my house is a mess again. I am so worn out from running around. But I really don't have much to show for it. The only things I have are car parts and I went back to see a new dentist. All I know is I haven't been home and I can't remember anything that I did. But my butt hurts from being in the car all week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The plan is to finish folding the laundry, do the dishes and clean the bathroom. After that, I plan on reading the Eagles book. I took an office at the Eagles Auxiliary. Well it's not official until June but I will be Chaplin. So when we have initiations I have to read my parts out of the book in the ceremony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a little taste of it last night. The actual Chaplin was not there so Julie (Madam President) asked if I would fill in. So I said Okay. Well I had know clue as to what the hell I was suppose to do. I have only seen that ceremony when I was initiated. Then I really didn't pay any attention because it was a zone thing and it was a big to do. Plus there were a bunch of people there. So I tried to read along and figure out what I was supposed to do. I have never even read that part in my life. So I was trying to keep up and then read the damn thing. Some of the words they use are kind if funky. Everyone has their part and after their part, there are little italics to tell you what is suppose to happen next. So I was trying to ready those and then figure out what was going on. Then try and read my part all at the same time.  So I felt like I was back in school reading in front of the class. I had know clue where I was supposed to stand at certain times or how I was supposed to walk around things. I did my best and I think I did alright for not know what the hell I was doing. I know I was reading fast, because I got into that habit when I was working at GM. So I will have to work on reading slower. If I have any questions I will go ask my friend Doris. She knows what the hell is going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't want to clean my house. I just want to sit on my ass and do nothing. But life isn't like, that so I guess I am shit out of luck on that one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-1079586154108627732?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1079586154108627732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=1079586154108627732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/1079586154108627732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/1079586154108627732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/05/busy.html' title='Busy'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-6022982234383547538</id><published>2008-04-28T09:34:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T09:53:32.752-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Diet Coke and a Smoke</title><content type='html'>I think this is the first day I have had all weekend to sit down and relax a bit. Saturday James and I dropped the girls off at Mom's for the afternoon so we could go play golf with Lamar and Jenny. Well it was only supposed to be for a few hours, but James and Lamar took all friggin night to finish their game. So Jenny and I went to get the girls, but Mom kept them over night.So Jenny and I rushed back to get the guys and they still weren't done. It was dark and since we know the guy who owns the golf course he gave us a little more time to get the hell out. Plus he was having a party at the club house for a friend. So by 8:30 James and Lamar finally come in. The only reason why was they couldn't see their ball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I played about 9 holes when Lamar's ball hit my ankle. I played a total of 15 holes and gave up. I did pretty good for not really being a golfer. I can wack the ball about 100 yards off the tee. After that, I pretty much suck. I didn't keep score because I really don't care. I do know I never get par so there isn't a point to keep score. I did have fun up until I got injured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to get the girls about 10 the next morning. The girls played at Mom's for a couple of hours and then I had another date to take the girls to the park with a few friends and their kids. So for about 8 hours the girls were playing outside all day. We didn't leave the park until about 7. We get home and they eat. Well, tried to eat. They both were falling asleep at the table. It was funny, Bryanna fell right into her Spaghetti O's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of my morning has been cleaning up the house. For not being home all weekend there sure is a big mess. I have know idea how that happens. But for right now, I am taking a break. I am having a Diet Coke and a smoke, before I get back to cleaning up this house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-6022982234383547538?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6022982234383547538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=6022982234383547538' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6022982234383547538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6022982234383547538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/04/diet-coke-and-smoke.html' title='Diet Coke and a Smoke'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-6491413436704229095</id><published>2008-04-25T13:13:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T04:29:57.259-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Knitting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SBIRZLytw9I/AAAAAAAAAZw/mk5NaAuvOLA/s1600-h/stuff+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193232444671509458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SBIRZLytw9I/AAAAAAAAAZw/mk5NaAuvOLA/s320/stuff+011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Believe it or not, I have been knitting. I just haven't taken any pictures of it. So far this month I have made a few baby hats, booties, a baby blanket for my friends new baby and I finished a pair of socks for Mom, finally. These are dishcloth squares that I am going to use to make a pillow. I got a newer car and I'm still a little short to see over the steering wheel. So I need a little boost. My old car is fine, he's just taking a little nap right now. I need to rebuild the carburetor and Blaze will be running like the champ that he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought a '96 Beretta from my friend Keith. He got into a wreck with it a few months ago and he just went and bought a new car. There isn't anything wrong with the engine, but the body looks like crap. It's only minor damage but I can fix it. He did have the car looked at to see if the frame is bent. The guy told him it was, but James and I think it's the back bumper bracket that is all bent up. I had to test it my self. I took it on the highway and got it up to 90mph. It didn't shake or anything. So I plan on taking it over to the in laws to get a better look since I don't have a drive way anymore.  But I like my new car. I used to have a Beretta back in High School. But my clutch went out and my boyfriend at the time decided to rebuild the engine and put a new clutch in. Well he fucked it up and I was driving it and spun a rod. The rod went right through the engine block and make a big ass hole. So that car went to the scrapper. I really loved that car to. It was great on gas. Well back then gas was only a dollar a gallon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SBIRS7ytw8I/AAAAAAAAAZo/VTXnG7v4Dxo/s1600-h/stuff+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193232337297327042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SBIRS7ytw8I/AAAAAAAAAZo/VTXnG7v4Dxo/s320/stuff+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Oh here is a crappy picture of the Super Mullet Man. Everyday he walks down my street. He has the super duper mullet. You know the ones you only see on COPS. I have tried to get a good picture of him and his mullet. But I think he is on to me. Because he walks by my house very fast. I haven't seen him today, but I'm going to get a picture of that mullet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-6491413436704229095?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6491413436704229095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=6491413436704229095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6491413436704229095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6491413436704229095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/04/knitting.html' title='Knitting'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SBIRZLytw9I/AAAAAAAAAZw/mk5NaAuvOLA/s72-c/stuff+011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-8430768899299738919</id><published>2008-04-20T08:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T08:16:46.112-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Geez</title><content type='html'>What kind of wife am I to forget my anniversary? I totally forgot all about my anniversary yesterday. I thought that was what most men do.  The only way I remembered, was this morning when I got a text message from James last night, wishing me a happy anniversary. What the hell is wrong with me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-8430768899299738919?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8430768899299738919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=8430768899299738919' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8430768899299738919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8430768899299738919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/04/geez.html' title='Geez'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-5425844387463551036</id><published>2008-04-18T17:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T17:39:50.027-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Neighbors</title><content type='html'>Last night while I was at the Eagles, James talked to our other neighbors. It seems they are assholes. The one house down from our next door guy Chris is a bitch. Kelly has these bushes that are very dangerous. She has Burning Bushes planted very close to a PUBLIC sidewalk. So she tells James, " I don't want your kids riding their bikes in front of my house, because I don't want to be liable if they fall into my bushes." When James told me that, I was pissed off! So basically that bitch said she didn't want anyone to ride past or even walk buy her house. What the hell kind of shit is that? It took all I had not to go to her house at 11 o'clock at night and tell her, quit being a big fucking bitch and deal with the fact that she lives on a block with people who have kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Then Chris and Kelly tell James that they are going to call our landlord on neighbor Lori. I guess her kids and their friends make to much noise when they are outside playing. They do a little bit, but they are kids, and it is finally nice outside. All of the kids have cabin fever and they are just happy to be able to go play outside. Lori's kids are only home by themselves for maybe 2 hours if that. They are 9 and 12 so they are old enough to be at home with out an adult for that long. When I'm outside I keep and eye on her kids to. They don't do anything bad. All they do is hang out with their friends who come over and talk and horse around a little bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So James told Chris and Kelly that he will see what he can do about Lori's kids so they don't call the landlord. Chris', Kelly's, BMW dude's  houses are the only ones on the small block that are actually owned. Past BMW dude's house is another double that our landlord owns. So those three houses are banned together to hate the renters. Which is fucked up. I don't know about the other renters at the end of the street, but this end we mind our own business. We don't cause problems. We sit on the front porch and watch our kids play and that is about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm pissed off right now. My kids can't ride their bikes very far at all. They can ride their bikes from my house to Chris' house and that's it. And that isn't very far at all. So a two house lenght, what fun is that? I told James maybe I should take Hunter for a walk and maybe he will eat Kelly's little squeak toy of a dog. I know that's mean, but she pissed me off. Who made her queen god of the block?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She just got home a little bit ago and she walked next door to Chris' house. So I walked over to her and asked  very nicely as I could, if she could trim her bushes a little so they are not hanging over on to the sidewalk. She got pissy with me and said, " No. I don't feel like it. I put those bushes there for a reason. So people won't mess with my house." So I told her, " Who the hell is going to mess with your house in Tipp City? It's not like the West Side of Dayton with all the crack heads and hookers walking around. Not a damn thing happens in this city. It's like fucking Mayberry." So I drew a chalk line on the sidewalk and said, "Now does that make you fucking happy!? Now my kids wont go any where near your jacked up, Martha Stewart wanna be house!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pissed her off and she said she was going to call my landlord and tell on me. So I pulled out my phone and called him myself. I told him what had happened and he laughed. So Landlord told me if I have a problem with her and how she talks to my kids, then I can all Andy Griffith and Barney Fife to come out and resolve the problem. Of course I had him on speaker phone so she could hear him. I also addressed the problem with Lori's kids and told him how they really are since I am home all day. He basically said, so what deal with it. If she doesn't like it then she can move. He is not going to evict anyone for kids playing outside. Just as long as they don't destroy their property and they have to have proof that her kids or our kids did it on purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So fuck those neighbors! They can kiss my ass. I might just start taking Hunter buy her house when she is at work so he can piss on her bushes to kill them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-5425844387463551036?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5425844387463551036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=5425844387463551036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5425844387463551036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5425844387463551036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/04/neighbors.html' title='Neighbors'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-3447710919934936830</id><published>2008-04-18T10:25:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T04:29:57.664-05:00</updated><title type='text'>She Can Do It</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SAivuBX_T9I/AAAAAAAAAZg/gvR3LORwDwE/s1600-h/stuff+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190591775722393554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SAivuBX_T9I/AAAAAAAAAZg/gvR3LORwDwE/s320/stuff+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; James is helping Makayla learn how to ride a bike with out training wheels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SAivlBX_T8I/AAAAAAAAAZY/LL8m2qv1It4/s1600-h/stuff+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190591621103570882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SAivlBX_T8I/AAAAAAAAAZY/LL8m2qv1It4/s320/stuff+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He is showing her it is not that hard to ride a bike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SAivbRX_T7I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/QTwAQX_6LAI/s1600-h/stuff+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190591453599846322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SAivbRX_T7I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/QTwAQX_6LAI/s320/stuff+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She finally did it. She can ride a bike all by her self. It took all of 15 minutes to teach her how to ride a bike. She does really great now. Although, she still has problems staying on the side walk. She will go in the grass and then fall over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-3447710919934936830?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3447710919934936830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=3447710919934936830' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/3447710919934936830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/3447710919934936830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/04/she-can-do-it.html' title='She Can Do It'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/SAivuBX_T9I/AAAAAAAAAZg/gvR3LORwDwE/s72-c/stuff+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-2996189680223535486</id><published>2008-04-12T21:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T21:53:04.268-04:00</updated><title type='text'>About Time</title><content type='html'>Bryanna is potty trained! Waa hoo! It's about damn time. The girl is 5 years old. She is also a stubborn little thing just like her mom and dad. I was starting to wonder if I was going to have to start buying her Depends soon because Pull-ups don't get any bigger. Hopefully she keeps it up since Pull-ups are expensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day after Makayla got out of school, James, Bryanna and I went to the park. We were only there for maybe 20 minutes when Bryanna said she had to go potty. I ran out of Pull-ups earlier and just put underwear on her. When I got some at the store I didn't bother to put another one on her. Anyways, so we had to leave the park. Well as we were walking home she is grabbing her butt and walking like she has something stuck. So I call my friend Erica who lives a block closer to the park. Well Bryanna runs in and goes all by her self! She took a big one to. One that made me wonder how that could have come out of such a small girl. I feel so much better now that she is finally potty trained.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-2996189680223535486?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2996189680223535486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=2996189680223535486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2996189680223535486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2996189680223535486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/04/about-time.html' title='About Time'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7790672939708634255</id><published>2008-04-10T09:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T09:32:47.191-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn Dentist</title><content type='html'>Well yesterday I went back to get another filling done. I don't know what the deal with that dentist is, but they only fill two teeth at a time or something. I have to go back on Tuesday to get more fillings, oh joy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was at the dentist, sitting in the chair waiting for her to get in the room, I found out there was going to be a different lady do my fillings. Okay whatever just get the job done. Well it seemed to me when she was "drilling" my teeth, she was doing the same spot my usual dentist just did last week. So I tried to talk with her hands and the assistants tools in my mouth. I told her what the last dentist just did and she said, " I know but she did it wrong."  I guess that is what she said. I couldn't understand her since she had a very heavy accent. If you are board certified how can you do it wrong? I looked at my teeth and they looked fine to me. I just think that lady likes to torture people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, she drills my teeth but has her fingers pulling my bottom lip to my lap or something. Well it felt like it. The dentist leaves and the assistant starts to put the fillings in. She is doing the same damn thing. Good thing my face was numb or someone would have gotten kicked. I went home and about two hours later the Novocaine wares off. Well my bottom lip and chin really hurts by now. I was sitting on the front porch with James and he looks at me and says, " you have a bruise on your chin." So I go look in the mirror. I didn't see any bruise. This morning when I woke up and washed my face, I saw the bruise. So the whole right side on my chin and lip to my jaw is all bruised and swollen! I'm really pissed off right now. It feels like I got punched in the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only do I have to go back on Tuesday, if they tell me that they need to do another filling I'm going to go ape shit on them. I will have to tell them if you are going to have to do more fillings do them all at once and not one or two at a time. This shit is getting really old. I am still waiting on authorization from my insurance for my top teeth. I think I'm going to call them and ask what the hold up is. I just want to be done with all the dentist stuff for a while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-7790672939708634255?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7790672939708634255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7790672939708634255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7790672939708634255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7790672939708634255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/04/damn-dentist.html' title='Damn Dentist'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-4981955299020846867</id><published>2008-04-02T20:24:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T20:48:34.831-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Week</title><content type='html'>I know the week isn't even over with yet. Just in the two days I've had, man it's been a long week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have finally been able to go to the dentist in the first time in 4 years.( Gotta love the high insurance rates.) So I have to have a LOT of work done. So having an HMO I only have a few choices on where to go. So I picked the one that was not so in the "ghetto." While I was in the waiting room filling out the massive amount of paper work, I had a lady pretty much sit in my lap. I was sitting on one end of the couch and I was the only one who was sitting on the couch. So this lady decides to sit almost on top of me. So I scoot over as far as I can because I like my personal space, and she scoots over. At this point I was getting pissed off. The waiting room was full of empty chairs and she decides to sit on me. I had one of two options, I could be my self and tell the lady to get the hell away from me and go sit some where else or I could pull the crazy card. So I pulled the crazy card. I had Turrets Syndrome for the remainder of my wait. As soon as I started the turrets, she got up as fast as she could and sat as far away from me as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I got my exam and got bad news. I have to get all of my top teeth pulled. Oh joy! My bottom teeth are just fine but for two. So I had them clean my teeth. Since it has been 4 years since my last cleaning, they were in pretty bad shape. Well the lady doing my teeth cleaning was not very nice about it. It hurt. It hurt very badly. I don't know what the hell she thought she was doing, but scraping my teeth was not it. I guess I had a look of " when I get up I'm going to kick your ass" look. So she said," I have to take a break you are making me to nervous."  What? All I was doing was sitting there with my mouth open. She comes back and finishes up. The doctor comes back it for one final check and he says, "I have never had a patient make my cleaning lady so nervous she had to stop in the middle of a cleaning. What did you do?"  I told him I was just sitting there and it hurt but I didn't say anything.  He just laughed and told me when my next appointment was going to be. I went back today for one of my fillings. So the waiting room part was fine. I had no problems today. I get back to get my fillings and the dental assistant said, " Are you the one with Turrets? I just need to know so if you have a tick we can be aware of it." So I told her I didn't have it and told her the story of the lady that pretty much sat on my lap. She laughed her ass off. I guess it was so funny she had to share it with everyone in the office. I guess it was kind of funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So later on yesterday, I went to the Eagles for the crochet and knit club. I had to leave from there to go to where James was working at. No big deal right? Well I get half way to Huber and a cop pulls me over and tells me I was weaving. Weaving? I didn't even drink when I was there. So I told him it was very windy and my tie rod was broke on one side and I was on my way to get the parts. He looked at me like I was speaking spanish. I told him was a tie rod was and then he said, " I know what a tie rod is." Then he asked, " If I run your drivers license will the car come back to you?" Yeah buddy, I really want to steal a 1985 piece of shit Blazer. I told him it would. Five minutes later he comes back and Bryanna says, " turn your lights off, they are to bright!"  So I'm thinking he is really going to give me a ticket all because of my 5 year old. He just laughed at her and sent me on my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have had a busy week and it has just started. I'm tired so I'm going to try and get some sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-4981955299020846867?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4981955299020846867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=4981955299020846867' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4981955299020846867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4981955299020846867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/04/what-week.html' title='What a Week'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-8653282169063033141</id><published>2008-03-25T14:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T14:46:45.704-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Subway</title><content type='html'>Today I went to Subway to get lunch for James, Bryanna and I. I walked in and it was like every other Subway. I get to the counter to give my order when I noticed the two guys working. Just by listening to them with the other people in line, they sounded like Bill &amp;amp; Ted. You know from those 80's movies. So I kept listening to them talk about nothing and I thought, wow Bill &amp;amp; Ted work at Subway, this is great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I told "Bill" what I needed. I guess it took him a while to find the wheat bread. He finally found it and I told him I wanted  3 Italian BMTs. (footlongs are $5) I guess he was trying to talk to "Ted" while he was trying to make the sandwiches. It wasn't working out to well. He was not a multi tasker. After about 15 minutes he finally finished putting the meat and cheese on the subs. So he hands the sub off to "Ted".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now "Ted" really needed to lay off of the pipe. He is your typical stoner. He was talking to my sandwich. I usually don't like it when people talk to my food but it was a little amusing. I told him what I wanted on it and he was singing a song while he was making it. " Tomato's are awesome. may O maa yO. lettuce is the funk. Onions are hot, and oil, oil is cool." I wasn't aware that there is a song to make sandwiches. Well he had finished all of my sandwiches and was ringing me up when he said, " here are the three most awesomest subs in the world, have a great day dude."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home and told James what happened and he though it was funny. I guess you would just have to go there and find out. I can't wait to meet more people in Tipp City. This is starting to get fun. First is the weird drive thru guy, then the lady's man at the Dollar Store. Now Bill &amp;amp; Ted work at Subway. This is going to be a fun place for me to mess with people. I haven't gone into CarQuest yet for parts so I can't wait for that one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-8653282169063033141?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8653282169063033141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=8653282169063033141' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8653282169063033141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8653282169063033141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/03/subway.html' title='Subway'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-6111586470316940143</id><published>2008-03-24T11:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T12:08:03.349-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant</title><content type='html'>Okay, I know as a stay at home mom, one of my jobs is to clean. Well now that James has been laid off for a while my cleaning has doubled. I'm sorry, people who know me think I am a slob. But I'm not. I am actually a pretty clean person. Granted I don't clean my bedroom, but that is my own personal chaos. I get pretty anal about how things should be. I know my Mom and Sister are probably laughing in disbelief, but it's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past week everyone was very sick. So being sick, I didn't feel like cleaning much. So I let things go. My Sister also came in to town for the holiday and that pushed my cleaning back a little to. So this morning since it is Monday, I started to do my usual Monday stuff. After I finished the dishes, I sat down to take a little break. I looked around in the living room and saw a bunch of trash, toys and pop cans all over the place. I know this mess was not mine. I was upstairs most of last night watching movies. James is a grown man and I think he should be able to clean up after his self. But Nooooo. I think, he thinks there is a magic fairy that waves her wand and things get done. As we all know this is only a myth. So I clean up that mess since it is apart of my Monday thing and because nobody else will do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go into the dining room and see Makayla didn't clean up her mess from last night. Her Wendy's wrapper and ketchup mess all over the table and on the floor. I didn't know there was ketchup on the floor until I stepped in it. So that pissed me off. I wipe down the table and then I find more ketchup on the seat. What the hell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go in the laundry room, which is off of the kitchen and find that, apparently I am the only one who can change the trash bag. Now I am really getting pissed off. I haven't even gotten to the upstairs yet because James was up until 4 am playing Playstation. So I can't go and bother him or he will be a grump all day and I don't want to deal with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do know I am still mad about the bathroom. James knocked down the shower curtain rod the other day and still hasn't put it back up. So I left it on the floor to see how long it will take him to fix it. So far the running total is 3 days. I like taking baths so it doesn't bother me. Then I know when Makayla was sick she had to of puked in the trash can up there because the bathroom has a weird smell. Now since my bedroom is the walk through to the bathroom, I have been keeping it mostly neat. So I won't have to do much in there. Now the girls' room is a different story. I will not clean their room. I will vacuum but that is it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just getting a little tired of being the maid. Sometimes I don't clean for a while to see how bad the house really gets. Of course nobody will clean anything so I will have to do it anyways. It just pisses me off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-6111586470316940143?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6111586470316940143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=6111586470316940143' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6111586470316940143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6111586470316940143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/03/rant.html' title='Rant'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-2209382655787566031</id><published>2008-03-14T11:04:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T11:35:30.501-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weird People</title><content type='html'>Since I have been living in Tipp City, I have had the pleasure of meeting a lot of people here. Mainly weird people. I really like living here. It's quiet and it's not that busy of a town. I do know some people since I am a member of the Eagles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So first is the drive-thru guy. This guy is about my age. He looks like a rocker guy and looks like a party guy. Well every time I go to the drive-thru and he is there, he looks at me weird. So a week ago as I was getting my smokes, he asked me a question. He said," Do I know you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" I don't think so."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Are you sure?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" I'm pretty sure."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Did you used to hang out in Trotwood back in the late 90's."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Uh, nope."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Are you sure? Because I think I have seen you hanging around with a girl named Sarah. She has a black boyfriend named Mike."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Back in the 90's I was hanging out with my redneck boyfriend in Huber Heights. He was the type of guy who if he even saw me talking to black people he would go ape shit. I never left Huber to go hang out other places anyways."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" I swear I know you, because Mike had this Blazer and I used to ride around in it all the time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" I don't think so dude. I bought this Balzer from my Mother."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Well she had to of bought it from Mike."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" I don't think so. She bought this brand new in 1985 and has had it ever since I bought it in 2005."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" I think your lying. There aren't any Blazers in this color."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Dude I am very sure. I have the title and everything. She still had the original title she got when she paid off the damn thing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" No. I am very positive that this was Mike's Blazer. It has all the same rust spots and everything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Listen, I am not going to keep having this conversation with you. For your information all Balzers and S-10's rust in the same spots. Plus I know of 4 Blazers and S-10's in the Dayton area that are this same color."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guy wanted to argue with me about the Balzer so I finally told him to give me my cigarettes so I can go about my day. So that is the first weird guy I have met. Now on to the weird Dollar Store guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the Dollar Store to get my household stuff for the month. As I was checking out, this guy is about the same as the last guy. Rocker looking guy covered in Tattoos. He said," So what are you doing today?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I already knew he was trying to pick me up. So I said, " Look what I am buying. I am going to wipe my ass, wash dishes and do laundry. If I have time I will clean my ears and feed my cat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He laughed. I know I was being a total smart ass. I was in a hurry because I had a lot of things to do since my nieces are coming over tonight. Plus Landen was at home with James.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So rocker guy says, " Your pretty funny. Why don't we go hang out at Tony's later when I get off work."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Sounds like fun. But let me call and ask my husband first."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Your married?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" What did you think I was waring a wedding ring just for the hell of it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" You never know these days. I noticed you are new in this town."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How the hell do you know that? Are you stalking me or something?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Your car kind of stands out in this town."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" So I've noticed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" I see you live off of Fourth Street."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Dude! I swear if I see you outside my house I will have my husband kick your ass."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" No, no nothing like that. I see you have a Camaro."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" It's my husbands car."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" How much do you want for it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Well I know he would want at least $10,000 for it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That pretty much ended that conversation. I always tell people and outreagous amount since James loves that car. But he still wanted me to go to Tony's with him even though he knew I was married. I wonder what other kinds of people I will meet living here. I have only been here for a month. I bet the summer will really bring out the odd balls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-2209382655787566031?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2209382655787566031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=2209382655787566031' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2209382655787566031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2209382655787566031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/03/weird-people.html' title='Weird People'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-4928018974557638363</id><published>2008-03-12T10:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T10:39:16.650-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well most of the snow is all gone. I know it's Ohio weather. One day it's 20 degrees and the next it's 50. I wouldn't be surprised if we had snow in July! Everything is back to normal and all is well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been knitting socks. I did finish one pair, now I'm starting toe up socks. I still need to finish the Christmas socks for Mom. I'm getting a little behind on my knitting, to much stuff is going on right now. Last night at drinking for babies, I got a new project. Try to make a dish scrubber out of netting. I started one there, but the round one looked retarded. Maybe I'll try it again later today after I get my house work done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My fridge went out yesterday. So James and I had to wait all day to get a truck to get our old one. So at 11 o'clock at night we went to get a fridge. We had to move a bunch of stuff around to fit the big ass fridge in the kitchen. Our kitchen is only so big and there is a spot made for a fridge, but the one we have doesn't fit in that spot. I had to move my kitchen table and the entertainment center. So where our tv was, now the table is there. Now the tv is in the smaller room with the love seat. That and Paul came over last night and there are beer bottles and crap all over the place. But the good thing is, I can go to the grocery store now that we have a working fridge. Good thing all I had in the other fridge was condiments and popsicles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am getting ready to clean off the shelves from the fridge and clean up all the mess that was left JUST FOR ME last night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-4928018974557638363?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4928018974557638363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=4928018974557638363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4928018974557638363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4928018974557638363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/03/well-most-of-snow-is-all-gone.html' title=''/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7687351322791902140</id><published>2008-03-09T11:04:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T04:29:59.058-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9P-dycToMI/AAAAAAAAAZI/zNbpVbMpIQ0/s1600-h/stuff+167.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175760184488992962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9P-dycToMI/AAAAAAAAAZI/zNbpVbMpIQ0/s320/stuff+167.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Looking down 4th Street towards 3rd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9P-NScToLI/AAAAAAAAAZA/kgFFr5Pqo_s/s1600-h/stuff+166.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175759901021151410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9P-NScToLI/AAAAAAAAAZA/kgFFr5Pqo_s/s320/stuff+166.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is how deep the snow is in this spot, 11''.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9P99ycToKI/AAAAAAAAAY4/HbzfUMGjp0k/s1600-h/stuff+165.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175759634733179042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9P99ycToKI/AAAAAAAAAY4/HbzfUMGjp0k/s320/stuff+165.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Looking down Plum Street towards the Railroad tracks. I helped neighbor Lori dig her car out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9P9uCcToJI/AAAAAAAAAYw/Z45qAiPBR7k/s1600-h/stuff+164.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175759364150239378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9P9uCcToJI/AAAAAAAAAYw/Z45qAiPBR7k/s320/stuff+164.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking down 4th Street .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9P9eScToII/AAAAAAAAAYo/9Xy2c6zaF34/s1600-h/stuff+163.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175759093567299714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9P9eScToII/AAAAAAAAAYo/9Xy2c6zaF34/s320/stuff+163.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Looking up 4th Street towards State Route 571.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9P9NicToHI/AAAAAAAAAYg/1YQuuppCjeA/s1600-h/stuff+162.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175758805804490866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9P9NicToHI/AAAAAAAAAYg/1YQuuppCjeA/s320/stuff+162.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Snow covered bushes from my front porch.&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/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9P8-ScToGI/AAAAAAAAAYY/2JyIz8IiXMc/s1600-h/stuff+161.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175758543811485794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9P8-ScToGI/AAAAAAAAAYY/2JyIz8IiXMc/s320/stuff+161.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Plum and 4th Street.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I took a few pictures of the snow. I couldn't go far since I was attached to an extention cord. How hillbilly is that? I can't get out to get batteries yet.&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;/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/14817400-7687351322791902140?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7687351322791902140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7687351322791902140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7687351322791902140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7687351322791902140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/03/snow-pictures.html' title='Snow Pictures'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9P-dycToMI/AAAAAAAAAZI/zNbpVbMpIQ0/s72-c/stuff+167.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-540334500012451795</id><published>2008-03-09T09:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T10:23:43.002-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow</title><content type='html'>Well we have a total of about 12.5" of snow at my house. It is so deep, that the snow comes up to Hunters chest. Poor dog. He had a hard time trying to find a place to go potty. He loves snow anyways. He wants to play in it so bad, but the yard is not fenced in. So he has to be on a leash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are all still snowed in. The roads are some what plowed, but not really. I have to dig my car out and that will really suck. Only if I didn't have to drive Makayla to school. If I didn't have to do that on Monday, I would leave the s.o.b buried in the snow. All night I kept seeing the flashing lights of the snow plows. Then I saw more snow I had to shovel away from my car.=(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I did feel bad for the mailman yesterday. We didn't even get our mail until around 5. If I knew he was coming up the walk, I would have offered him some hot cocoa or something. It was nasty out. James and Doug ( next door neighbor's brother) shoveled the walk and the steps. I shoveled the steps earlier for Hunter. I took him out and he couldn't find the steps and slid down them. After he did that he looked up at me like, " What the hell happened to the steps?" When James and Doug were out there it was about 2 hours later and it was really bad. I tried to get a picture of how deep the snow was, but my batteries died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my plan for today is to dig my car out. That is my only mission for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-540334500012451795?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/540334500012451795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=540334500012451795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/540334500012451795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/540334500012451795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/03/snow.html' title='Snow'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-134617248059813072</id><published>2008-03-08T14:59:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T04:29:59.756-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Snow</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9LxXScToFI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/aRMnYxZp4wk/s1600-h/stuff+160.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175464304191971410" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9LxXScToFI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/aRMnYxZp4wk/s320/stuff+160.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9LxPCcToEI/AAAAAAAAAYI/c04v7eNVNAY/s1600-h/stuff+157.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175464162458050626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9LxPCcToEI/AAAAAAAAAYI/c04v7eNVNAY/s320/stuff+157.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My car and James' Carmaro are half buried in the snow already. This is the sidewalk. I don't know if you can see how deep the snow is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9Lw6icToCI/AAAAAAAAAX4/p_Q4hJPDMfs/s1600-h/stuff+153.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175463810270732322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9Lw6icToCI/AAAAAAAAAX4/p_Q4hJPDMfs/s320/stuff+153.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;James helping our next door neighbor Doug shovel the steps and walk way. They are both about 5'9 and the snow is almost to their knees.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9LxGycToDI/AAAAAAAAAYA/SoaMMzo2epQ/s1600-h/stuff+158.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175464020724129842" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9LxGycToDI/AAAAAAAAAYA/SoaMMzo2epQ/s320/stuff+158.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a picture of the car across the street pretty much all covered in snow.&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/14817400-134617248059813072?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/134617248059813072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=134617248059813072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/134617248059813072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/134617248059813072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/03/big-snow.html' title='Big Snow'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R9LxXScToFI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/aRMnYxZp4wk/s72-c/stuff+160.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-4182262131846916532</id><published>2008-03-06T10:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T10:40:04.201-05:00</updated><title type='text'>5 Reasons</title><content type='html'>Here are 5 reasons why you shouldn't give your cat a bath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Cats hate water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. They will try anything and everything to get away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. They really hate when you put soap on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The sprayer on your sink scares the shit out of him. Did I mention that cats hate water?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and # 1 reason why you shouldn't give your cat a bath..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. He will claw and bite you and be pissed off at you all day. He will also attack you every chance he gets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can I say, he was starting to be a smelly cat. I really don't like to pet a smelly greasy cat. I usually only give him a bath maybe twice a year. Once in the spring and once in the winter. I do that to keep down on the fleas and him smelling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-4182262131846916532?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4182262131846916532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=4182262131846916532' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4182262131846916532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4182262131846916532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/03/5-reasons.html' title='5 Reasons'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-908340235214201006</id><published>2008-03-05T21:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T21:55:11.102-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sign</title><content type='html'>I was with James today when he stopped at Advanced Auto Parts. in New Carlisle. As I was sitting in his truck, I looked over and saw this sign. It was at a Curves, you know the new women's fitness place. There little marquee said, "Food Drive". I thought to myself, why do they need a food drive at a fitness place? Isn't the point of going there is to lose weight? I forgot my purse so I didn't have my camera with me. I usually have my camera with me for things like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-908340235214201006?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/908340235214201006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=908340235214201006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/908340235214201006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/908340235214201006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/03/sign.html' title='Sign'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-6288467191044749260</id><published>2008-03-01T21:33:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T22:04:46.625-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SSDD</title><content type='html'>Since I have moved to &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tipp_City"&gt;Tipp City&lt;/a&gt;, I haven't done much of anything. It is a very, very quiet town. All I hear is the train that is maybe 500 feet away several times a day. Not much excitement here. I watch the birds and the ninja squirrels and knit. None of that crazy big city life here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't knitted a whole lot lately. I am almost done with a pair of socks. I am working on a cable rib baby hat. I don't know if I am digging the cables. I guess if I would use different yarn, it might look a little better. I'm using Yarn Bee Baby. I have become a yarn snob. I do not like that cheap crap. I think it looks bad and it splits to much. I might have to go to &lt;a href="http://ewetopia.net/"&gt;Ewetopia&lt;/a&gt; to get more. Yea, that's all I need, is more yarn. I had to down size more than half my stash when I moved. Now I am only down to one big giant basket and one medium size basket of yarn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I am doing the "drinking for babies" on Tuesday's at the Eagles, I have more things to do. I keep forgetting to bring yarn to Mom. She is just starting to re-learn crocheting again. She hasn't crocheted in 20 years. But she picked up on it fast. I am teaching another woman there how to knit. She is doing really good on her scarf. Doris has only had a few mess ups, but she is doing better than I was when I learned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also been teaching my niece Brittany how to knit. She is 12 and is getting good at it to. I thought if I would teach her how to crochet first, it might be easier. Nope. She doesn't get crocheting, but she gets knitting. Which is odd. I would think crocheting would be easier. I guess everyone is different. I started crocheting when I was about 6 or 7. Grandma had to give me something to do, so I wouldn't drive her crazy. I was one of those kids that bounced off walls and climbed them to. Hmm, kind of like Makayla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makayla is learning how to crochet to. So far she can make a chain. She is at the point where she can do the next row. I took her with me last Tuesday to the Eagles to crochet. She didn't do much because one of her friends was there. She just likes to be apart of things. Which is fine with me. Every once in a while she will sit on the couch and crochet when I am knitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess since I am talking about knitting, I should actuall do some.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-6288467191044749260?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6288467191044749260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=6288467191044749260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6288467191044749260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/6288467191044749260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/03/ssdd.html' title='SSDD'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-4052102972450353110</id><published>2008-02-27T08:56:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T09:38:32.487-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybarry</title><content type='html'>I have now realized that I live in a small town. I went to the grocery store the other day and when I walked in, the Produce Guy said, " Hello, how are you doing today?" That is the first time in my entire shopping life, that I had a person at the grocery store greet me. As I was walking around getting the things that I needed, I saw 3 or 4 people I knew from the Eagles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is just odd to me to live in a small town. I have lived in a fairly big city my whole life until now. Everyone is so much nicer here. There are more smile and hello's from people. In &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huber_Heights%2C_Ohio"&gt;Huber Heights&lt;/a&gt;, all you get is dirty looks and the occasional middle finger.In &lt;a herf="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tipp_City%2C_Ohio"&gt;Tipp City&lt;/a&gt; things are at a slower pace. Nobody is in a hurry or drives like assholes. I guess that is because there is only Main Street and that is it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I go out walking around Old Tipp,I feel like I'm in that show back in the 50's &lt;a herf="http://en.wikipedia.org/The_Andy_Griffith_Show"&gt;Mayberry&lt;/a&gt;. I don't have to worry about assholes or stupid people. There are a lot of neat shops in Old Tipp. I really like the antique stores. You can find the neatest things in them. Plus there are a lot of mom and pop restaurants that have great food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, I really like living in a small town. I thought it would be hard since there aren't any Wal-Marts or big chain stores here. If I want to go to them, I have to go to Huber Heights or Troy. So I have a 20 minute drive either way. But I think I can live with out Wal-Mart a block away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-4052102972450353110?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4052102972450353110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=4052102972450353110' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4052102972450353110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4052102972450353110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/02/maybarry.html' title='Maybarry'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-2222210479780218411</id><published>2008-02-26T07:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T07:54:27.187-05:00</updated><title type='text'>President</title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://widgets.clearspring.com/o/479655c10f6dd511/47c40c0216c28bf5/479655c10f6dd511/1c7f13f2/widget.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-2222210479780218411?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2222210479780218411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=2222210479780218411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2222210479780218411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/2222210479780218411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/02/president_26.html' title='President'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-4011414464372238830</id><published>2008-02-26T07:17:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T07:47:13.309-05:00</updated><title type='text'>President</title><content type='html'>I don't know about everyone else, but I am getting sick of the mud throwing from all the candidates. I know it's not even November yet. I don't know what to believe from any of them. I think they are all full of shit. But the object of this game is to try and pick on who is less full of shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know the biggest thing is Obama is a Muslim, and doesn't salute our flag or some shit. Then they say it was all on Hillary's side who started that rumor and put "the picture" out in the public. Whatever. I know that pisses a lot of people off, but it may or may not be true. We will never know. Then there is the rumor that if Obama is president, he doesn't want to be swarn in to office with the bible. Geez, it's almost like high school crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to use my right to vote for my country. But so far they all have not "dazzled" me. I am leaning towards Democrat. I have never liked how the Republicans have ran the country. Look how our economy was when Bill was in office. Oil was low and unemployment was low. Our country was doing great. Now look where we are. Gas is outrageous. We are in a war that is more political than anything else right now. The rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer. Plus look at the high rate of foreclosure. You have to work at least three $7.00 and hour jobs to keep afloat with a family of four. Most of the big companies are going over seas. This country is going to hell in a hand basket. How it is looking, we might be the next third world country. We are in a recession and it sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have heard that both Obama and Hillary want to change how things go. They have their "plans". Well I would like to hear how their "plans" will work. I would like to know they will go about fixing this country's problems in detail. Not that political talk that is neutral. You know that talk, they don't really answer your question but make it sound like they give a shit and did give you an answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know they have to say things that the people of this country want to hear. But they all should be put on that show on &lt;a href="http://fox.com/momentoftruth/"&gt;Fox&lt;/a&gt;. Then we will really know who is full of shit and who isn't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-4011414464372238830?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4011414464372238830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=4011414464372238830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4011414464372238830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4011414464372238830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/02/president.html' title='President'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-3120245282470693000</id><published>2008-02-25T21:49:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T04:30:00.636-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Landen's Party</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R8N_P2R6wiI/AAAAAAAAAXs/Ynbh909WnJo/s1600-h/landon+024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171116707396895266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R8N_P2R6wiI/AAAAAAAAAXs/Ynbh909WnJo/s320/landon+024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here he has just got into the cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R8N_BWR6whI/AAAAAAAAAXk/V8Jpg-AZHjI/s1600-h/landon+015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171116458288792082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R8N_BWR6whI/AAAAAAAAAXk/V8Jpg-AZHjI/s320/landon+015.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Before he found that cake was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R8N-6mR6wgI/AAAAAAAAAXc/s7HcBioY7RQ/s1600-h/landon+032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171116342324675074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R8N-6mR6wgI/AAAAAAAAAXc/s7HcBioY7RQ/s320/landon+032.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; a nice messy cake kiss to Ami.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R8N-xmR6wfI/AAAAAAAAAXU/rkC4Emue9U8/s1600-h/landon+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171116187705852402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R8N-xmR6wfI/AAAAAAAAAXU/rkC4Emue9U8/s320/landon+029.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is how you eat cake Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R8N-qmR6weI/AAAAAAAAAXM/5PmzFhaaErI/s1600-h/landon+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171116067446768098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R8N-qmR6weI/AAAAAAAAAXM/5PmzFhaaErI/s320/landon+021.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is my favorite one. He thought it would be better to use is mouth than his hands.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm glad that Landen had a good first birthday. He had a blast. He was a little tired, but he still had fun. Landen didn't really get that messy with cake. He liked the frosting better. After all the frosting was gone, he was done with his cake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ami was glad that we were here to celebrate his birthday, since "Dippy" was being an asshole as usual. How things are, we are Ami's only "family". Devin got pissed off because Ami didn't want to drive all the way to Riverside to where he is staying at.  Then he said he didn't have a gift for Landen or even a cake. Plus Dippy's new girlfriend is a trouble maker and would rather have Devin all to her self. But that is another story.&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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-3120245282470693000?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3120245282470693000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=3120245282470693000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/3120245282470693000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/3120245282470693000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/02/landens-party.html' title='Landen&apos;s Party'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R8N_P2R6wiI/AAAAAAAAAXs/Ynbh909WnJo/s72-c/landon+024.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-7272314189839415256</id><published>2008-02-20T11:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T11:15:40.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All Moved In</title><content type='html'>Well for the most part we are all moved in to our new place. We still have a few odds and ends to figure out where to put. I really like the new place. It is a half double and it is pretty big. It has two living rooms, two bedrooms, a decent size kitchen, a good size laundry room and one bath room. The bad part about the bathroom is, you have to go through our bedroom to get to it. So most of the night I hear Makayla and Bryanna walking through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time we move we are going to hire people to do it. I don't think James and I can deal with it again. It was was to stressfull. James was getting on my nerves and I was getting on his. Plus with the girls acting crazy, I was about to kill them. But I'm glad it is all over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally have the internet. It has only taken a week to get turned on. Well yesterday, James was on the phone to Verizon for two hours. At one point he was screaming at the voice prompter to get to talk to a real person. Well finally today they come out and fix our phone. The last guy who lived here had Time Warner Cable phone. So all is well once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night after I got home from" Drinking for Babies" ( the Eagles has a knitting and crocheting group that the women make stuff for Touching Little Lives.) I sat down and filled James in on what I did. Not to long after, Hunter our dog was sleeping buy the front door on the rug. He stood up IN A DEAD SLEEP and started digging at the floor. He was asleep the whole time. His eyes were closed and he was still snoring. James called his name and he woke up and looked at us. Then he walked over and started wagging his tail. It was the funniest damn thing I have ever seen him do. Usually he will dig at his blankets to fluff is bed up. So James and I though that was what he was doing. But when we realized he was asleep, we cracked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm off to finish getting the house in order until next time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-7272314189839415256?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7272314189839415256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=7272314189839415256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7272314189839415256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/7272314189839415256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/02/all-moved-in.html' title='All Moved In'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-5386537291548915110</id><published>2008-02-13T10:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T10:25:46.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10</title><content type='html'>Here are my top 10 reasons why moving sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Finding enough boxes or finding boxes big enough for your shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Where is the tape?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Trying to figure why you have so many clothes that don't fit you. I can't remember when it was the last time I wore a B-cup. All I know is, it was way before High School.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. What can I fit into this box? What did I do with the tape?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Why the kids have so much shit, and do they really need all that shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Where is that one big box at? Damn, what did I do with the tape?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Why the hell do I have so much stuff? And when did I get all this stuff?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Try not to pack the cat into a box. Where the hell did I put the tape?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. You throw out shit "you don't need" then come to find out you still need, what ever the hell it was that you threw out. So you have to go buy it again, but then you think of other things you threw out and need to buy that shit to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the number one reason why moving sucks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Unloading all of your shit into the new place, that has stairs at both ends of the house to get in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-5386537291548915110?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5386537291548915110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=5386537291548915110' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5386537291548915110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5386537291548915110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/02/top-10.html' title='Top 10'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-8632794044758447366</id><published>2008-02-08T18:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T18:43:11.321-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving</title><content type='html'>As of the 15th, I will no longer be living on Sesame Street. I am sad to leave all my muppet pals, but life goes on. I will miss my most of my neighbors that I have known for my whole life. I will miss three people really well make it five.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will miss Barry and Mary. The gossips at the other end of the street. Barry is always willing to shoot out the tires of the stupid assholes who speed down the street.  If he even hears a speeding car, someone peeling out or just being an asshole, he will come out with his "peace maker" and solve any problem. Even though this man is well into his 80's he still has everything upstairs. Mary, who knows everyones business. If she doesn't know you, she will come over and find out everything about you. She is always good for the latest news on people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there is Jean. Good old Jean. She is always good for a beer and a good talk about life. In her 80's also, she still knows her shit. That and she can drink me and my Mom under the table. She always had great stories about when she was growing up during the Depression. She has been through two husbands and also buried a Son recently, she keeps on going. All though her age is catching up to her, she still goes. I think I will miss her the most. She has been a great friend, neighbor and Jean is like family. She moved in when I was 8 or 9. She still talks about when I was little and I would get up early in the morning and make amazing blanket forts on the clothes line. That or I was up in some tree and she would tell me to get down before I fell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jonsey, what can I say about him. A good friend and is always willing to help me or James with anything. Even though his is the drunk of the street, he is the neighborhood watch. He will let anyone know not to mess with anybodys stuff. He always helps everyone out on the street. Be it, mowing your lawn for a 6 pack or cleaning out your garage. He works for beer. Of all our friends, he is the only one willing to help us move and clean out our house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, Keith. I have really known him my whole life. He remembers things from when I was Bryanna's age. Although I really don't remember, he is always good for an embarrassing story. We had plenty of good talks when we went walking when it was warm. He is getting wise in his old age, and is a good person to go to for advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I am moving, I will have to change the name of my blog. I don't know what that will be yet. Life on Sesame Street, just wont cut it if I'm not living on Sesame Street. Since I am moving into an old house I might rename my blog Life in This Old house. I don't know yet. After I settle in and get things together, then I might be able to come up with a title.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-8632794044758447366?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8632794044758447366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=8632794044758447366' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8632794044758447366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/8632794044758447366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/02/moving.html' title='Moving'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-1767801853467412155</id><published>2008-02-06T20:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T20:13:56.508-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bryanna Funny</title><content type='html'>Today we went to McDonald's to eat dinner. After we ate dinner James went and got Bryanna a sundae to eat. She was about half way through her sundae when she looks over at me and says, " This ice cream is messing with my mind."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James and I laughed so hard. I have know idea where that came from.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-1767801853467412155?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1767801853467412155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=1767801853467412155' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/1767801853467412155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/1767801853467412155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/02/bryanna-funny.html' title='Bryanna Funny'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-9146316155503313989</id><published>2008-02-03T18:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T18:07:22.414-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleepy Bryanna and Dora</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed width="448" height="361" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i113.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid113.photobucket.com/albums/n234/chevygal355/stuff152.flv"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-9146316155503313989?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/9146316155503313989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=9146316155503313989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/9146316155503313989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/9146316155503313989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/02/sleepy-bryanna-and-dora.html' title='Sleepy Bryanna and Dora'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-4474766907387969414</id><published>2008-01-30T21:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T04:30:00.785-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Aww</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R6E19nz65OI/AAAAAAAAAXA/o-T8TGKSZMo/s1600-h/stuff+143.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161465980718343394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R6E19nz65OI/AAAAAAAAAXA/o-T8TGKSZMo/s320/stuff+143.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aww, look how cute. James and Bryanna fell asleep together. Bryanna had a very big day. She went potty all day long without an accident. Then when she was at school, she got into a fight with another girl. The reason she got into a fight was, she has this friend named Sarah. Sarah is very cute. She also has MS and has a walker. But she has the best personality. But Bryanna really likes her. Bryanna will pick up her toys, if she drops something, she will run and get it. Bryanna always makes sure Sarah is fine and has every thing that she needs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess Bryanna got mad at Madaline because she sat next to Sarah. From what Bryanna told me, Madaline said something not nice so Bryanna smacked her on her back. It left a big red mark and Madaline had to go to the nurse. Bryanna had to sit in the thinking chair and apoligize to Madaline. So Bryanna got into big trouble at school. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also go a note from her teacher. It said if it happens again, then I will have to come and get Bryanna from school. Plus she will not be able to go back to school until the next week. So in other words, she will be suspended.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;James and I had a talk with her about hitting people. I am hoping that she wont hit anyone again. That's all I need, is my 5 year old suspended from preschool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-4474766907387969414?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4474766907387969414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=4474766907387969414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4474766907387969414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/4474766907387969414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/01/aww.html' title='Aww'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R6E19nz65OI/AAAAAAAAAXA/o-T8TGKSZMo/s72-c/stuff+143.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-417306656976177375</id><published>2008-01-30T08:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T08:51:15.050-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Day</title><content type='html'>Well so far today is starting off to be a great day. Bryanna on her own, went and pooped in the potty! YES!!! One step closer to her being potty trained. I know, I know the child is 5 years old and isn't potty trained yet. Well for some reason she was afraid to poop in the potty. I am hoping since she did it all by her self this morning, she has gotten over her fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more I nagged at her to go the more she didn't go. So for the past year, I have laid off. I didn't let it bother me when she messed her pants. But I did start making her clean her own butt her self. I guess after a few weeks of her doing it her self, she got the picture. Yesterday morning, I made her clean her self up and she got poop all over her hands. She freaked out! Bryanna has this thing with her hands. She doesn't like getting her hands dirty. Plus she is a compulsive hand washer. If she gets a little marker or anything on her hands, she will wash her hands until she can't see the mark. Bryanna has always been like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I know she can do it, I'll have to see if she can keep it up. James and I told her, if she doesn't mess her pants, we will take her to Chuckie Cheese. I guess it looks like we will be taking her there today. What fun that will be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-417306656976177375?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/417306656976177375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=417306656976177375' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/417306656976177375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/417306656976177375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/01/good-day.html' title='Good Day'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-5192490094403742361</id><published>2008-01-26T09:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T04:30:01.120-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Furniture</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R5tBkXz65NI/AAAAAAAAAW4/Yz6IHwVVC7w/s1600-h/stuff+142.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159789891205915858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R5tBkXz65NI/AAAAAAAAAW4/Yz6IHwVVC7w/s320/stuff+142.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is my new love seat. I had my friend Mindy keep an eye out for new furniture for me. She works at &lt;a href="http://morrisathome.com"&gt;Morris Furniture&lt;/a&gt;. She works in the warehouse, so she sees all the stuff come in. Well this love seat was a reject. The only thing I can see wrong with it is a little spot of white paint. She set it aside for me to pick up. I only paid $5 for it. That's right I paid $5 for a $1,000 love seat. It looks like it is leather but it's not. It is that faux leather looking stuff that is actually fabric.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R5tBdHz65MI/AAAAAAAAAWw/i9UxGSSvMAc/s1600-h/stuff+141.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159789766651864258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R5tBdHz65MI/AAAAAAAAAWw/i9UxGSSvMAc/s320/stuff+141.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And this is my $2,500 couch I paid $50 for. It has the power recliners on both sides. She said the left side was broken so they had it marked down. Well when I got it home, I just plugged both sides in and they both work. So whom ever probably didn't plug in the other side. She also said it had a rip in it and they repaired it. But the original people didn't like the repair or something and took it back. I can't even tell where the rip was. Mindy said it was in the back some where. Whatever, I got me some really nice stuff for a total of $60 with tax. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mindy is awesome! Now all I need is some new end tables and I'm set. I have some antique end tables that used to belong to James' Grandmother. They are really really nice. But they are getting a little worn with having kids and people putting drinks on the leather tops without a coaster. So I would like to put them away before they really get messed up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the first time since I James and I have been married, that we have had new furniture. I am hoping that since the kids are older, I can keep it staying nice for a while. I could have had nice furniture a while ago, but I really didn't want two toddlers with snotty goopy hands, to ruin the nice furniture. So for the past 6 years James and I have lived under the philosophy, if it's free then it's better than nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-5192490094403742361?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5192490094403742361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=5192490094403742361' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5192490094403742361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5192490094403742361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/01/new-furniture.html' title='New Furniture'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oi6sYrS3cQE/R5tBkXz65NI/AAAAAAAAAW4/Yz6IHwVVC7w/s72-c/stuff+142.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14817400.post-5240810386377687055</id><published>2008-01-25T21:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T22:06:39.604-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Downtown</title><content type='html'>Today since James did not have to work, we went downtown. James was on the look out for carpet tools. What better place to find tools? That's right a pawn shop. So James, Bryanna and I went to the finest pawn shops in the Dayton area. Let me tell ya that was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First we start out on Dixie. Which is not to bad. James found a few things but what he was looking for was a power carpet stretcher. He found one there that had wooden parts. That's right wooden parts. God only knows how old that one was, but we were not looking for antique tools today. So we took our little trip further to Third Street. We hit all the popular pawn shops there. He found one at the first shop, but they wanted to much money for a piece of crap tool. So we walked a few doors down to Don's Pawn Shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Don's has been serving the Dayton area since the immigrants came over in boats. Well I think that was my favorite pawn shop of the day. It was full of people. Of course it is tax season so people were there getting their stuff out of pawn. I even saw a couple shopping for wedding rings there. You know you are in a downtown Dayton pawn shop when the " Wal-Mart Greeter" looks like he moonlights as a pimp. All that guy was missing was a fedora and a cane. Well at Don's they didn't have any carpet tools, so we left. As we were leaving we had to stop at a cross street. I looked down to notice the yellow snow at my feet. Only in Dayton can you see yellow snow on the side walk buy the public Library. Now that's class. At least whom ever, could have gone directly across the street by the porn shop or something. Or even used a tree. But not in Dayton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next place we went was East Side Jewelry and Loan. I didn't go in that one since I knew James was only going to be a few minutes. James came out with a few tools. He got an 80$ carpet kicker for 40$ and a carpet cutter that is usually 70$ for 12$. So he got a great deal. They did have a stretcher, but they wanted way to much for it their to. The pawn shops were trying to charge brand new prices for used and almost broken tools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last place we went was Rich's Pawn Shop off of Smithville. James found a stretcher that was fairly cheap, and in good condition. He didn't buy it. James was getting impatient and just wanted to buy tools. After a few minutes of him talking things out, he decided if it is meant to be, he can go get it later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that is how my family fun day went. Surprisingly I did not see any hookers. I think it was the cold. But it is never to early to introduce a 5 year old to what a hooker is. It seems every time I have gone downtown, I have walked by or had some sort of interaction with the local hookers. I had to get a copy of my marriage license a few months back. I had Bryanna with me. I was walking across the street and I could hear the one " working girl" trying to get a "job". Right in front of the court house! She has some balls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to all you people who have not had the joy of the Downtown Dayton experience, you have to see the culture. I have never seen any other place like Downtown Dayton.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14817400-5240810386377687055?l=sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5240810386377687055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14817400&amp;postID=5240810386377687055' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5240810386377687055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14817400/posts/default/5240810386377687055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sesamestreetlife.blogspot.com/2008/01/downtown.html' title='Downtown'/><author><name>knitting chick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
