<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744</id><updated>2009-10-14T08:05:51.129-07:00</updated><title type='text'>reasonable facsimile</title><subtitle type='html'>I intend to assist in the effort to reestablish communication with Starfleet. However, if crew morale is better served by my roaming the halls weeping, I will gladly defer to your medical expertise. Excuse me.   (Spock)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>192</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-4940130625138054055</id><published>2009-05-27T09:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T09:29:25.421-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Give a Home for the Fleas, a Hive for the Buzzin' Bees...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.tailsrwaggin.com/images/furminator2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 350px;" src="http://www.tailsrwaggin.com/images/furminator2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The warmer weather is upon us, and with it comes the age-old physics question: How is it an 80 pound dog can shed 15 pounds of fur today, then miraculously grow it back overnight, only to drop it again tomorrow? I have gone through at least 3 very expensive vacuums in the past few years sucking up dog hair. Turns out, in spite of their convincing commercials, vacuums don't do well with that poundage of hair. And I own probably a half dozen "guaranteed to stop the shedding" doggie brushes. Yeah, not so much. I have taken her to the groomer to have her "undercoat" removed...what's an undercoat, anyway?...and apparently all that does is loosen up the stuff, enabling it to fall more easily. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next stop: The Yul Brenner look. My dog may be completely humiliated by her new 'do, but at least I won't have to sweep twice a day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-4940130625138054055?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/4940130625138054055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=4940130625138054055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/4940130625138054055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/4940130625138054055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2009/05/give-home-for-fleas-hive-for-buzzin.html' title='Give a Home for the Fleas, a Hive for the Buzzin&apos; Bees...'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-6140259507955439138</id><published>2009-04-17T08:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T09:56:41.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.tcnj.edu/%7Etechnj/2008/images/kindle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 325px; height: 324px;" src="http://www.tcnj.edu/%7Etechnj/2008/images/kindle.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my very own Kindle a few months ago. I was anxious to give it a test drive...kick the tires and light the fires, so to speak. So I downloaded my favorite of all-time novel, Stephen King's &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Stand&lt;/span&gt;. I downloaded the NIV version of the Bible, which isn't my preferred version, but it's the one my church uses, so I'm going with that particular flow. And I downloaded an American Idol blog subscription.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a die-hard audiobook fan, because my old lady eyes get tired so easily. Plus I like to "read" while I drive, and I love to hear really good readers. Well, I decided to try the Kindle's text-to-speech feature. I plugged in the speakers, and opened  &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Stand,&lt;/span&gt; a book I've read repeatedly, and from which I can semi-quote long passages...and it's a good thing, because it was being read by R2D2, and  I had no idea what was being said. So the robot voice on the Kindle was not going to cut it for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a little bit awkward to hold because it's stiff and solid. I wondered if I could get used to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh oh. This was starting to look like an expensive disappointment, like my first Palm Pilot, or my digital voice recorder. (which was just fabulous until it took the death ride through the wash cycle. Hey, nowhere on the packaging did it say not to launder it. There was no warning about leaving it in my pocket and just tossing it in with the darks) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was excited when I discovered I could download the new Wally Lamb novel (retailing at Amazon for $36.95) for under ten bucks. So I did. It took about 30 seconds to download. From thin air. No cables, no plugs, no computer, nothing.  Wow. First I got a free sample to read before making the purchase -- Barnes and Noble never did that for me! So I started to read. The book is about Columbine survivors, and the ripple effect such a tragedy has on people's lives. Really really good...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And suddenly, I was hooked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can read in any position: in the car, in the bed, leaning against the shopping cart at Costco. I can change the size of the font to adjust to my current level of eye strain. I can lay the book aside or toss it into my purse without a bookmark. I am reading again, and loving it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Here are a few more of the upsides:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;     -- all  the books are $9.99. No matter how many pages. Sometimes they offer sale prices.&lt;br /&gt;     -- Amazon offers like a quarter of a million titles for download, with more being added all the time&lt;br /&gt;     -- you want the book right now? The download time is less than a minute. Less time than it'll take you to find your car keys.&lt;br /&gt;     -- that whole "free sample" thing? Oh, yes, please.&lt;br /&gt;     -- you can shop the Amazon store from the Kindle&lt;br /&gt;     -- it holds somewhere around 125,000 books, which is more than even Sarah owns.&lt;br /&gt;     -- even if you delete a book from your Kindle, you just download it again from Amazon at no additional charge&lt;br /&gt;     -- Sony has come out with a competitive product; always a good thing!&lt;br /&gt;     -- it has basic web browsing for a few sites. That's experimental, so we'll see.&lt;br /&gt;     -- it has an MP3 player (also experimental) for music or podcasts&lt;br /&gt;     -- when it goes into sleep mode, it posts random pictures of authors. &lt;br /&gt;     -- bit by bit I can get rid of the books on my shelves and replace them with photos of my boyos.&lt;br /&gt;     -- you can highlight passages, underline stuff,  and make notes on the pages. &lt;br /&gt;     -- I look very cool using it&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Here are the downsides I've found so far:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     -- it's certainly not cheap. And probably not washing machine safe.&lt;br /&gt;     -- there's no back light, so you can't read without a light source. Kinda like a regular book.&lt;br /&gt;     -- no New Book Smell. (maybe they'll include that in Kindle 3.0)&lt;br /&gt;     -- the artwork is black and white; no color capabilities. Is that a downside for you? Because it isn't for me.&lt;br /&gt;     -- I'm having a hard time learning to negotiate my way around. Like finding a certain scripture is difficult.&lt;br /&gt;     -- you have no idea how many pages there are in the book, or which page you're currently reading or&lt;br /&gt;     -- worst of all, no idea how many pages left until the end of the book. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, my new love is quietly serving me well. I'm happy to be reading again. And I'm really happy to be looking so stinkin' cool while I'm doing it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-6140259507955439138?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/6140259507955439138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=6140259507955439138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/6140259507955439138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/6140259507955439138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-got-my-very-own-kindle-few-months-ago.html' title=''/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-6254284990002551595</id><published>2009-02-16T08:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T08:48:19.102-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In Honor of President's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wGr8njEWjtI/SZZTdJ5buvI/AAAAAAAAB90/w09nR7HZzAo/s400/Kasey+D+zilly+cakes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wGr8njEWjtI/SZZTdJ5buvI/AAAAAAAAB90/w09nR7HZzAo/s400/Kasey+D+zilly+cakes.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cupcakes, folks. The entire thing is made of cupcakes. Personally, I don't think Abe ever looked so sweet. President Obama is on the left. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Figures. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go &lt;a href="http://www.zillycakes.com/Obama_.php"&gt;here &lt;/a&gt;to see the progress.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-6254284990002551595?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/6254284990002551595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=6254284990002551595' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/6254284990002551595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/6254284990002551595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2009/02/in-honor-of-presidents-day.html' title='In Honor of President&apos;s Day'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wGr8njEWjtI/SZZTdJ5buvI/AAAAAAAAB90/w09nR7HZzAo/s72-c/Kasey+D+zilly+cakes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-8510829106613815924</id><published>2009-02-13T19:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T19:55:59.452-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And the winner is...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.phonedog.com/r/c/11216-7804-167-175-120x132.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 120px; height: 132px;" src="http://www.phonedog.com/r/c/11216-7804-167-175-120x132.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to stay with Verizon. So I upgraded to their iphone wannabee, the Voyager. Must say, I'm loving it. Oh, sure, it lacks all the applications that are available with the iphone, but honestly, I can't remember the last time I had to tune my guitar or find a sushi restaurant. I think I can learn to live without a few bells and whistles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...at least until the next time I get to upgrade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-8510829106613815924?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/8510829106613815924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=8510829106613815924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/8510829106613815924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/8510829106613815924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2009/02/and-winner-is.html' title='And the winner is...'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-7457167996461179926</id><published>2009-02-13T18:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T19:41:30.804-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Woovie Critic II</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1qPLMlz01yQ/R23xzJ5--dI/AAAAAAAAAd4/gcbh4S9xNGM/s400/coraline1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 325px; height: 357px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1qPLMlz01yQ/R23xzJ5--dI/AAAAAAAAAd4/gcbh4S9xNGM/s400/coraline1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is Coraline. Sarah and I took the boyos to see it today. It was much much better than, say, running to the car in the icy rain or skidding on the wet sidewalk in your flipflops. I did both of those today, too. Coraline was better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's based on a book by Neil Gaiman, and you can read an excerpt &lt;a href="http://books.google.com/books?hl=en&amp;id=eRIxTzsJsB0C&amp;dq=coraline&amp;printsec=frontcover&amp;source=web&amp;ots=YIoFyA9_rU&amp;sig=7hCmupOrDpf_dWB0c2IFE6ZQ5VI&amp;ei=fy2WSc66M5nMsAO4-qGIAQ&amp;sa=X&amp;oi=book_result&amp;resnum=12&amp;ct=result#PPP1,M1"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.  I had never read the book, but from what I have read in these excerpts, the film follows it fairly closely. Coraline is loved but generally ignored by her workaholic parents. They have recently moved into an old house which has been made into apartments. They share the house with some delightful, quirky characters...two former actresses and their Scottie dogs, and a Russian circus performer who is attempting to establish a mouse circus. One day, while exploring their 150-year-old house, Coraline discovers a small door. In the way of all things mysterious, the door leads to another apartment, identical to her own, inhabited by identical parents (with the single exception that their eyes are buttons.) This Other Mother and Other Father spend all their time with the attention-starved Coraline, playing games, making her favorite dishes, and causing her to feel special and important and loved. They offer her the opportunity to stay with them always, but the hitch -- there's always a hitch, right? -- is that she has to allow them to sew buttons over her eyes. Drama ensues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie is typical Tim Burton. The bad guys are all spindly-legged and spidery. There are Edward Scissorhands moments, and Corpse Bride moments and Willy Wonka moments (not the good Gene Wilder version; the creepy Johnny Depp one). Once the Other Mother revealed her true identity, C-Monkey (nearly 7) got scared. Mr Roboto, who is almost 10, denied being scared, but he's just ever so-o sophisticated, he'd never admit it if he were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were some weird things, too. Like a neighbor boy who, for no particular reason, had a hunched back and a Black grandmother.  There is a circus scene with a very fat lady bouncing around wearing -- I kid you not! -- sequined pasties and a g-string. Maybe those things are right out of the book, but in the movie they were not explained, and only provided a couple of "Wait, what?" moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved the first half of this movie. It was quirky, melancholy, and sweet. I enjoyed watching Coraline build relationships with her odd neighbors. It was sad to see her parents ignore her to the point of driving her away. Even her initial discovery of The Other Parents was a fun twist, and it was a joy to see how they valued her. The second half of the film was pretty dark. I don't like seeing kids in danger, and I sure don't like seeing dead kids (oh, yes; three of them). It irritates me when kids talk like grown-ups, and although there was no PG13 language in the movie, there were several occasions when Coraline said, "Oh my God." We don't allow our kids or sub kids to say that, so it was very uncomfortable to hear it from a little girl I had grown to care about.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have mentioned before that I see &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;A LOT&lt;/span&gt; of animated films. I am often drawn into the actual animation...especially the little things like rain drops or animal fur. There is a scene in which Coraline is wearing flannel pjs, and they were so fuzzy! I found myself mesmerized by the fuzz, and wishing I could ask my friend &lt;a href="http://www.johnrmcconnell.com"&gt;John&lt;/a&gt;, Visual FX Guy Extrodinaire, about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my recommendation? Don't take any little kids. Too scary. Too sad. Too many kids in peril, kids hurt, kids threatened, kids dead. I'd say, maybe 8 would be the youngest. And even then, I'd recommend some prep work and some debriefing time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, come on: sequined pasties?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-7457167996461179926?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/7457167996461179926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=7457167996461179926' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/7457167996461179926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/7457167996461179926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2009/02/woovie-critic-ii.html' title='Woovie Critic II'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1qPLMlz01yQ/R23xzJ5--dI/AAAAAAAAAd4/gcbh4S9xNGM/s72-c/coraline1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-8094189742757262939</id><published>2009-02-06T15:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T16:28:52.505-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To i or not to i</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://media-2.web.britannica.com/eb-media/12/23612-004-92012F57.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 294px;" src="http://media-2.web.britannica.com/eb-media/12/23612-004-92012F57.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was my first cellular phone. I got it for my birthday about 75 years ago. It was battleship grey,  weighed 20 pounds, had a battery life of 10 minutes, and each phone call cost $27.50. But it was a gadget, and I love gadgets. I was one of a handful of people who carried a phone in my purse, and could call from anywhere (within the coverage area of just over 3 blocks.) Verizon was known back then as AirTouch. We fell in love fast and hard, AirTouch and I. I hauled around that original phone for two years, until my first upgrade, which was smaller, faster, lighter, cheaper... Each time I upgraded, I needed more. More features. More colors. More style. By now I was a junky, hopelessly addicted to the tech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.handcellphone.com/wp-content/themes/green-marinee/phonepic/cell-phone-spec-pics/570/lg-vx9900-phone-orange-6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 390px; height: 310px;" src="http://www.handcellphone.com/wp-content/themes/green-marinee/phonepic/cell-phone-spec-pics/570/lg-vx9900-phone-orange-6.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my phone now. As Randy Jackson would say, "It's aiight." It will send and receive calls and texts, takes decent photos like &lt;a href="ttp://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SYuPUiePOpI/AAAAAAAAAc0/sm0oFaMpbS0/s1600-h/0204091710.jpg"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;, and offers all the bells and whistles I have been told I need, like games and music and a GPS navigational system. It has online capabilities. It's orange. It's cute. I should love it. I should.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's not an iphone.  I'm really longing for an iphone. I want a phone with it's own theme song. I want applications that tell me when to feed the dog and how to do the Running Man. I want touch screens and mp3 players and a shiny shiny chasis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't leave Verizon; I have a family plan which enables my four kids to have their phone service for $10 a month. And our plans are all up at different times, so even if we all switched to ATT&amp;T, it'd cost us a fortune in early cancelation fees. Plus, they'd all think they were entitled to iphones, too. And they'd whine about it until they all got their own. Selfish brats. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are wars and famine and drought. My home state is facing a financial crisis The Terminator can't bust us out of. But this is what I've chosen to worry about:  I'm discontented with my phone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a sad, sad little person I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-8094189742757262939?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/8094189742757262939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=8094189742757262939' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/8094189742757262939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/8094189742757262939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2009/02/to-i-or-not-to-i.html' title='To i or not to i'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-3581563467557039737</id><published>2009-02-05T17:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T17:29:36.499-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Corn Pop Trees</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SYuPUiePOpI/AAAAAAAAAc0/sm0oFaMpbS0/s1600-h/0204091710.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SYuPUiePOpI/AAAAAAAAAc0/sm0oFaMpbS0/s320/0204091710.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299486969545308818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every February these trees burst into bloom. The streets are lined with them, and they are glorious. In a few weeks, they begin to lose their blossoms, and we have "snow" in Riverside. When Bethany was little, she called these &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;corn pop trees&lt;/span&gt;, because as I mentioned &lt;a href="http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2009/01/woovie-critic.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, she liked to twist her words. When we drove down the street she would announce every single tree: "corn pop tree, corn pop tree, corn pop tree" for blocks and blocks. Every year I think I'll get her one for her birthday, but by the time her birthday comes at the end of April, the blossoms are gone, along with my memory of how beautiful they are. Plus, if I went to the nursery and asked for a corn pop tree, I doubt they'd be able to help me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know the name of this tree? They are similar to crepe myrtles, but the blooms are different. If you know what the trees are called, please comment below for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-3581563467557039737?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/3581563467557039737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=3581563467557039737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/3581563467557039737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/3581563467557039737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2009/02/corn-pop-trees.html' title='Corn Pop Trees'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SYuPUiePOpI/AAAAAAAAAc0/sm0oFaMpbS0/s72-c/0204091710.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-8405341122922293943</id><published>2009-02-02T16:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T16:56:23.648-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marie Callender&apos;s'/><title type='text'>It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!</title><content type='html'>Prepare the taste buds and the stretchy sweat pants. It's pie sale time again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cherry, berry, peach, apple, rhubarb, french apple, apple lite, blueberry, razzleberry, razzleberry lite, pecan, lemon meringue, custard, chocolate cream, chocolate meringue, chocolate satin, kahlua cream cheese, german chocolate, key lime, lemon cream cheese, double cream lemon, double cream blueberry, coconut cream, coconut meringue, cream cheese&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;$6.99 + pie tin deposit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I must say, I don't understand folks bringing back their stash of pie tins during the pie sale. The pies are &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;already&lt;/span&gt; discounted. Seems to me it's better to save the pie tins for when the pies are NOT on sale. No matter; we'll happily take them any time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go get 'em.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-8405341122922293943?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/8405341122922293943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=8405341122922293943' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/8405341122922293943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/8405341122922293943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2009/02/its-most-wonderful-time-of-year.html' title='It&apos;s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-2619193310814446655</id><published>2009-01-31T07:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T09:39:14.060-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. Roboto'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='C-Monkey'/><title type='text'>The Woovie Critic</title><content type='html'>Title explanation which has absolutely nothing to do with the post:  When she was little, my youngest daughter had the cutest way of twisting her words. Because she was the baby, we all thought it was adorable, and adopted her diction as our own. We all said "ho-mock" and "corn pop" and "poop dog"  and "gee-tow" with her because, gosh darnit, she was just so stinkin' cute. (Her Kindergarten teacher was not amused.) Anyway, she would say "woovie" instead of "movie", and it just stuck with us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, the actual blog post:&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Because I'm the grandmother of two little boys, I tend to see a LOT of kids' movies. It's a joy to take my boyos, and watch them watch. Especially now that C-Monkey can actually sit through an entire film without feeling the need to explore the theater from beneath the seats. And occasionally, Mr. Roboto has been able to make it through with only one or two trips to the bathroom. We see every one of the PG or G rated films...some more than once. Animated, fantasy, and those live-action movies with big name stars who used to be famous actors but are now too old for the chick flicks or action adventures, and have found themselves playing the parents of teeth-gratingly annoying children.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I call this "Nap Time for Grammie".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I've enjoyed a few of them. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Kung Fu Panda&lt;/span&gt; held my attention. Some of the Pixar stuff is wonderful, and I kind of resent the plot and artwork cutting into my sleep pattern. Last summer's kid fare was just awful for me, as I ranted about &lt;a href="http://"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2007/11/enchanting-enchanted.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, because I had worked hard at home, and deserved a nice 100 minute nap, I took the guys to see&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt; Hotel for Dogs&lt;/span&gt;. Have you seen this heart-warming tale? It's about a couple of siblings who have been battered around by the Evil Foster System, and are not candidates for adoption because they are 10 and 16...no longer cute little puppies. (get it?  get it? That's just one of the subtle hidden messages in the film)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story begins with Bruce, the 10-year-old, putting heavy stones into  empty cell phone boxes, using the hot air hand dryer at school to shrink wrap them, and passing them on to his sister Andi to sell as new to the pawn shops. Now, I'm quite old, and not up to date on all the hip new jargon the kids use these days, but in &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt; day we called that 'fraud'. Were these kids punished? Not so much. They &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;did&lt;/span&gt; go to the police station, but their social worker (Don Cheadle, who used to be a famous actor) got them out on the legal defense of being Adorable Well-dressed Orphans Stuck in the Evil Foster System. Because then theft is quite ok, and there are no consequences for illegal actions. Oh, I see. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The foster parents are Carl and Lois Scudder (Lisa Kudrow who used to be a famous actress), They  are scum o' the earth rockers who keep the kitchen cabinets padlocked, and feed the kids twice a day because that's all they're legally required to do. Cereal in the morning and tv dinners at night. Carl and Lois are working hard to perfect their sound; they're going to hit it big. You know without having seen the movie that they are just wretched. Really, a metal version of Smelly Cat would have been an improvement. So the kids are completely on their own to wander the streets. They come across an abandoned luxury hotel which they take over, and commence to appropriate as a home for dozens and dozens of strays. Adding Breaking and Entering to their rap sheet. The Despicable Empire of Animal Control shows up here and there, but the kids always thwart their attempts to capture the strays...once, with the obligatory kick to the crotch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids are gorgeous and brilliant; the adults are caricatures; the stray dogs are all purebreds; the hotel was abandoned but miraculously still has all the furniture and even some clothing left behind by guests; blah blah blah; villains, separation, orphanages, sadness, blah blah, dogs on the loose, blah blah multiple traffic accidents, heroes, redemption, adoption by the good guy, curtain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Home Alon&lt;/span&gt;e all over again. I hated &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Home Alone&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bottom line: The boys LOVED this movie, and me? I liked it a whole lot more than &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Bride Wars&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-2619193310814446655?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/2619193310814446655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=2619193310814446655' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/2619193310814446655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/2619193310814446655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2009/01/woovie-critic.html' title='The Woovie Critic'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-1603377044102275328</id><published>2009-01-09T18:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T20:18:34.507-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We're sad to see him go...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://alumni.lbcc.edu/images-distinguished/callender.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 167px; height: 200px;" src="http://alumni.lbcc.edu/images-distinguished/callender.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don Callender, the innovative powerhouse behind Marie Callender's restaurants, died this week. He was a ball of fire, and will be missed by those men and women who were trained by him to run some of the finest restaurants around. Did you know Claim Jumper, Mimi's and several others were started by people who learned the business from Don? And when we go to the yearly managers' conferences, there is always a group of GMs who get together to reminese about him. Most of them, like my husband, have worked for the company for close to 40 years, so they are full of crazy stories about this energetic, creative man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what this year's conference will be like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ocregister.com/articles/callender-don-marie-2277431-kitselman-mother"&gt;Here's&lt;/a&gt; an article about Don, from the OC Register.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-1603377044102275328?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/1603377044102275328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=1603377044102275328' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/1603377044102275328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/1603377044102275328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2009/01/were-sad-to-see-him-go.html' title='We&apos;re sad to see him go...'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-5642273801847520257</id><published>2008-11-29T08:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T08:55:06.854-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marie Callender&apos;s'/><title type='text'>Thanksgiving at Marie's</title><content type='html'>Here are some pictures to give you an idea of my last few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFrj03EckI/AAAAAAAAAag/_aN5ly_iXnw/s1600-h/nov+2008+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFrj03EckI/AAAAAAAAAag/_aN5ly_iXnw/s400/nov+2008+021.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274114901856776770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Shortening, pumpkin dry mix, pumpkin wet mix and stuffing mix. This stack is about 10 feet high. Eventually, the pumpkin mix will become 1500 pumpkin pies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFtOA7oSaI/AAAAAAAAAao/-ux_jHuw4Pw/s1600-h/nov+2008+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFtOA7oSaI/AAAAAAAAAao/-ux_jHuw4Pw/s400/nov+2008+022.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274116726163261858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sugar, sugar, sugar, sugar, sugar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFuMARJnmI/AAAAAAAAAaw/_1bGFMRCkJA/s1600-h/nov+2008+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFuMARJnmI/AAAAAAAAAaw/_1bGFMRCkJA/s400/nov+2008+018.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274117791136980578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our wonderful cooks are geared up and ready to go. By the end of the evening, they would create &amp; plate 102 ham dinners and 561 turkey dinners. They also prepared over 80 Feasts (complete dinners for 6-8 all packaged up and ready for the customer to reheat and serve). By the end of the night, they were pretty worn out, but they never ever stopped smiling. What a great crew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFvi2Jkr3I/AAAAAAAAAa4/HeSN0akSdoQ/s1600-h/nov+2008+030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFvi2Jkr3I/AAAAAAAAAa4/HeSN0akSdoQ/s400/nov+2008+030.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274119283069464434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a shot of the main server station, with the wait staff getting salads, cornbread and pie slices ready to serve, and the greet staff is putting together a few take-out dinners. And there's a busser running through with a tray of dirty plates. That room can get really small really fast with that many people millling around. I should stay out of there, but that's were all the fun is. I like the fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFypUVHBrI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/K8ORUoLfPyM/s1600-h/nov+2008+032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFypUVHBrI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/K8ORUoLfPyM/s400/nov+2008+032.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274122692785014450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our dine-in guests had to choose between pumpkin and apple pie. Meanwhile, the customers who came in to purchase whole pies had the entire pie menu from which to choose...35 varieties including 4 kinds of apple, 3 kinds of lemon, 4 different chocolates, and 6 cheesecakes. And banana. Oh my, yes.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STF6R7qfyqI/AAAAAAAAAcY/3GcfHbv-s3w/s1600-h/nov+2008+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STF6R7qfyqI/AAAAAAAAAcY/3GcfHbv-s3w/s400/nov+2008+004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274131087119862434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tina is carrying 4 slices of pie on her arm. How do they DO that? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STF5lHCiM6I/AAAAAAAAAcQ/NEON_ph9nrk/s1600-h/nov+2008+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STF5lHCiM6I/AAAAAAAAAcQ/NEON_ph9nrk/s400/nov+2008+010.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274130317079360418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Angel and Matt were still in the back of the house making more stuff. And smiling. Have I mentioned how great our staff is? I just love these guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STF3kuZTydI/AAAAAAAAAb4/BchVD9Ixq-k/s1600-h/nov+2008+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STF3kuZTydI/AAAAAAAAAb4/BchVD9Ixq-k/s200/nov+2008+012.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274128111440742866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STF3TCmqZpI/AAAAAAAAAbw/ckF5dMMjOeU/s1600-h/nov+2008+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STF3TCmqZpI/AAAAAAAAAbw/ckF5dMMjOeU/s200/nov+2008+011.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274127807627814546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A few extra pumpkin and apple pies for our dine-in guests. No one will leave hungry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STF2tuswvOI/AAAAAAAAAbo/3I9G6ZLPtgU/s1600-h/nov+2008+033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STF2tuswvOI/AAAAAAAAAbo/3I9G6ZLPtgU/s400/nov+2008+033.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274127166629526754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We don't use the salad bar on Thanksgiving, so I decorate it with lots of fall-ish things. So pretty. See the rooster in the front? He was a hit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STF4TbHfVgI/AAAAAAAAAcA/_X-e2VY4rsA/s1600-h/nov+2008+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STF4TbHfVgI/AAAAAAAAAcA/_X-e2VY4rsA/s400/nov+2008+008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274128913719580162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's Kevin running the dishwasher. He wore a smile all day. Except when he dropped an entire bus tray and busted a dozen plates. Right in front of the Big Boss. Yikes! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STF7G4fa8CI/AAAAAAAAAcg/GHlefJcjvx8/s1600-h/nov+2008+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STF7G4fa8CI/AAAAAAAAAcg/GHlefJcjvx8/s400/nov+2008+003.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274131996801167394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The salad station after about 20 minutes. Be very glad I didn't post a picture of the FLOOR!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot to take a picture of the stack of $20 bills I got to take to the bank yesterday. It was purdy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that was my Thanksgiving. How about yours?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-5642273801847520257?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/5642273801847520257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=5642273801847520257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/5642273801847520257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/5642273801847520257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2008/11/thanksgiving-at-maries.html' title='Thanksgiving at Marie&apos;s'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFrj03EckI/AAAAAAAAAag/_aN5ly_iXnw/s72-c/nov+2008+021.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-178764132982231739</id><published>2008-11-29T07:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T08:06:44.573-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess who I ran into the other day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFlj91yn8I/AAAAAAAAAaA/_wZtpzy7vnA/s1600-h/nov+2008+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFlj91yn8I/AAAAAAAAAaA/_wZtpzy7vnA/s320/nov+2008+007.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274108307197566914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, it was a brand-new Mercury Grand Marquis with less than 5,000 miles on it, driven by a 80 year-old-lady.  Boy, did she yell at me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFm9crMPPI/AAAAAAAAAaI/jRw2DWyaGto/s1600-h/nov+2008+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFm9crMPPI/AAAAAAAAAaI/jRw2DWyaGto/s320/nov+2008+009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274109844482964722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...because obviously I did it on purpose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-178764132982231739?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/178764132982231739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=178764132982231739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/178764132982231739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/178764132982231739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2008/11/guess-who-i-ran-into-other-day.html' title='Guess who I ran into the other day...'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFlj91yn8I/AAAAAAAAAaA/_wZtpzy7vnA/s72-c/nov+2008+007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-6190480365525342165</id><published>2008-11-29T07:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T07:51:51.285-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It only makes sense...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFkZc-He1I/AAAAAAAAAZ4/eJdpWvnwrCQ/s1600-h/nov+2008+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFkZc-He1I/AAAAAAAAAZ4/eJdpWvnwrCQ/s320/nov+2008+019.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274107027063798610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even the rich folks who ride around in limos enjoy a chili dog now and then...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-6190480365525342165?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/6190480365525342165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=6190480365525342165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/6190480365525342165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/6190480365525342165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2008/11/it-only-makes-sense.html' title='It only makes sense...'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/STFkZc-He1I/AAAAAAAAAZ4/eJdpWvnwrCQ/s72-c/nov+2008+019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-5968562097000859762</id><published>2008-10-13T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T08:04:53.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just in case</title><content type='html'>I heard you couldn't see the poster. Sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As fair warning, the movie was Quarantine. Keep your $8.50.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-5968562097000859762?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/5968562097000859762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=5968562097000859762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/5968562097000859762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/5968562097000859762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2008/10/just-in-case.html' title='Just in case'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-5352945296207316725</id><published>2008-10-12T18:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T08:03:46.075-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Only twice in my life....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://img.blogdecine.com/2008/06/quarantine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img.blogdecine.com/2008/06/quarantine.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...have I walked out of a movie.  This made the third time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So awful I cannot think of enough adjectives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-5352945296207316725?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/5352945296207316725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=5352945296207316725' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/5352945296207316725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/5352945296207316725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2008/10/only-twice-in-my-life.html' title='Only twice in my life....'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-2969151676757685963</id><published>2008-10-04T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T09:06:32.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm bad, I'm bad, you know it...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;For the past month, I have been getting these phone calls from some 800 number. The read-out says &lt;em&gt;unavailable&lt;/em&gt;, and as a policy, I don't answer phone calls that don't have any identification. That's the reason they invented the answering machine. So I hadn't been answering. But they call at least 5-7 times a day, at various times throughout the day and late into the evening. And even if the phone goes to voicemail, they don't leave a message. When I finally decided to answer so I could tell whoever it was to &lt;strong&gt;stop the stinkin' phone calls&lt;/strong&gt;, they hung up as soon as I said hello. This has happened like 10 times. Anyway, they called again this morning at &lt;em&gt;8-are-you-kidding-me-AM&lt;/em&gt;, and per usual, hung up when I answered. Enough. So I called them back, and kept pressing zero until I got to an actual human. By then, I was so angry I had to do breathing exercises to keep from ripping into the poor guy. (inhale) He's just trying to earn a living. (exhale) It's not his fault his stupid company is harassing me. (Deep breath in...hold it....slowly out. OK.) Now...who are you? Why is your company calling me 5 times a day, not leaving a message or responding when I answer, and&lt;em&gt; in the name of all that is holy&lt;/em&gt;, make it stop. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out, one of my beloved brood is late on her department store bill, and would I, please-oh-please-oh-pretty-please go to my local store and pay them $30 before the 10th?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him I'd pass the information on to the kid, but that she is an adult, didn't live with me, recently moved and no, I do not have her new address or her work phone number. (I do, but heck if I was going to give it to him; I was still mad in spite of my excellent breathing) And I added that the phone calls were rude, intrusive and have become harassing. The calls would stop NOW. I took his name and operator number, and assured him if I got another call from them I would take action. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between you and me, that action would probably be to disconnect the phone altogether and drive over it repeatedly with my car. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But don't tell him, OK? I think I've got him scared. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I kind of like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-2969151676757685963?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/2969151676757685963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=2969151676757685963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/2969151676757685963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/2969151676757685963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2008/10/im-bad-im-bad-you-know-it.html' title='I&apos;m bad, I&apos;m bad, you know it...'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-4112585682017842402</id><published>2008-09-05T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T22:03:31.307-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a well-informed media, part II</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://gcp.stalecookies.com/images/business1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://gcp.stalecookies.com/images/business1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Weather Channel reporters, bless their hearts, wear their Official Weather Persons Windbreaker with such pride as they brave 140 mph winds and side-ways rainstorms. These are the heroes of the weather persons army. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Here in Southern California, where summer goes on and on and on, and where winter hits us hard on November 17th, and lasts from 3pm til 4:15 pm with temperatures dropping as low as 53 degrees, our weather persons only get to report 4 kinds of weather. &lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;strong&gt;Hot&lt;/strong&gt;. Really really really hot. We refer to this weather as "normal". The senior weather persons are too smart (or highly paid) to leave their air conditioned offices to report on the ridiculous heat, so they send the rookies out to the field, usually Blythe. (Blythe -- Average mean temperature 114 degrees. In the shade. At night. In January. Indoors.) The rookie's job is to report that we all need to &lt;em&gt;flex our power&lt;/em&gt;, and turn down the AC and stop watering the lawn. So we go to the nice cool Multiplex and watch hours and hours of disaster movies. If the mercury reaches 110, we might even watch a Pauly Shore film. This is known as a "weather emergency."&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;strong&gt;Fire&lt;/strong&gt;. This may be God's way of suggesting we not build houses in the Malibu Canyon because it spoils His view. Our weather persons call it "Fire Storm Watch 2008." The graphics and music departments design some very dramatic artwork and stirring music. We are glued to the television watching the tankers dip into the lakes and ocean for water to drop on the flames. Oh, then there are the typical interviews: the crotchety old fogey who refuses to evacuate, because he's lived in this canyon for 75 years, dadgumit, and he's not going anywhere; the rich guy who thinks he can keep the fire from his 8000 square foot home by using the lawn sprinklers and a garden hose; and the lady with her yappy little dog blocking the road with her Toyota Celica so the fire trucks can't navigate.&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;Rain&lt;/strong&gt;.  Our typical 1/4" deluge is known as "Storm Watch 2008". It is the delight of all the weather persons, because they get to put on the Official Weather Persons' Windbreaker and stand in the rain on the edge of the previously burned-out Malibu Canyon to describe the houses sliding down into the ocean. Since these houses are owned by people like Charlie Sheen and Sandra Bullock, we wait hopelessly for a glimpse of a famous person running out of their house in a ratty "I'm with Stupid" t-shirt and a side pony tail. &lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;strong&gt;Earthquake&lt;/strong&gt;. Not really a weather condition, but boy howdy, we really like these. If you just happen to be watching a local news show when an earthquake hits and the newscasters dive under the news desk, it's considered a personal coup. If your TiVo is going, you might score yourself a YouTube exclusive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-4112585682017842402?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/4112585682017842402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=4112585682017842402' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/4112585682017842402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/4112585682017842402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2008/09/well-informed-media-part-ii.html' title='a well-informed media, part II'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-1467777053202139224</id><published>2008-09-05T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T08:46:32.232-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a well-informed media</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i237.photobucket.com/albums/ff163/d4demons/Movie%20Wallpapers/live_free_or_die_hard_movie_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i237.photobucket.com/albums/ff163/d4demons/Movie%20Wallpapers/live_free_or_die_hard_movie_poster.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I heard a reporter refer to the Republican nominee as John McClane. Now, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;he&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; would DEFINITELY get my vote!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-1467777053202139224?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/1467777053202139224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=1467777053202139224' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/1467777053202139224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/1467777053202139224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2008/09/well-informed-media.html' title='a well-informed media'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-1108132119010295810</id><published>2008-08-21T13:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T14:46:39.509-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How I Spent My Summer Vacation</title><content type='html'>We probably spent 37% of our cruise either going to eat, thinking about eating, having a snack or meal, talking about what we ate, wishing we hadn't eaten so much, or wondering when we'd eat next. Come along as we are...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...waiting to eat...&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3WgsXvHFI/AAAAAAAAAV0/fR2z6Y5eHzU/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+080.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3WgsXvHFI/AAAAAAAAAV0/fR2z6Y5eHzU/s400/Cruisin%27+080.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237077798856629330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...enjoying Animator's Palate &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3WSTz714I/AAAAAAAAAVs/1E_xEhVLWPQ/s1600-h/P1020555.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3WSTz714I/AAAAAAAAAVs/1E_xEhVLWPQ/s400/P1020555.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237077551745849218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...providing a little dinner music&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3VyI5JFFI/AAAAAAAAAVk/GjRr3qtgLJo/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3VyI5JFFI/AAAAAAAAAVk/GjRr3qtgLJo/s400/Cruisin%27+078.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237076999059084370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...checking out the menu&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3U-SceXpI/AAAAAAAAAVc/F-AFw8WZZNY/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3U-SceXpI/AAAAAAAAAVc/F-AFw8WZZNY/s400/Cruisin%27+046.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237076108270001810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...running out of hands&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3USThFR9I/AAAAAAAAAVU/r98A9fTMd-U/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3USThFR9I/AAAAAAAAAVU/r98A9fTMd-U/s400/Cruisin%27+095.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237075352643520466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...grieving over our Mickey Mouse waffles&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3UDyDLtRI/AAAAAAAAAVM/6sgCv3gQDkA/s1600-h/P1020354.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3UDyDLtRI/AAAAAAAAAVM/6sgCv3gQDkA/s400/P1020354.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237075103141573906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...discussing the size of the steak&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3Tq_X06KI/AAAAAAAAAVE/fcPC7t4Oh4U/s1600-h/P1020343.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3Tq_X06KI/AAAAAAAAAVE/fcPC7t4Oh4U/s400/P1020343.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237074677221091490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...planning tomorrow's breakfast at Parrot's Cay &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3TPXtm0cI/AAAAAAAAAU8/XRMUEFO9mmY/s1600-h/P1020339.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3TPXtm0cI/AAAAAAAAAU8/XRMUEFO9mmY/s400/P1020339.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237074202718556610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...snacking on Pinocchio's Pizza to tide us over between meals&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3S0LrQGsI/AAAAAAAAAU0/D7GPzJ75pWw/s1600-h/P1020283.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3S0LrQGsI/AAAAAAAAAU0/D7GPzJ75pWw/s400/P1020283.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237073735630985922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Cam's rocking the soup&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3SfqqyGII/AAAAAAAAAUs/Z2VfCX8SjUM/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+087.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3SfqqyGII/AAAAAAAAAUs/Z2VfCX8SjUM/s400/Cruisin%27+087.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237073383173265538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...sharing? There will be no sharing, Aunt Bee!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3RvMnLC3I/AAAAAAAAAUk/dSWjgnDRmWE/s1600-h/P1020556.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3RvMnLC3I/AAAAAAAAAUk/dSWjgnDRmWE/s400/P1020556.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237072550471338866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you have to make it yourself&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3Q3da1x7I/AAAAAAAAAUM/cYDt8jZUVmE/s1600-h/P1020499.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3Q3da1x7I/AAAAAAAAAUM/cYDt8jZUVmE/s400/P1020499.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237071592910342066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many desserts did you order?&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3QhJPSMXI/AAAAAAAAAUE/w2AGYsNt4To/s1600-h/P1020384.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3QhJPSMXI/AAAAAAAAAUE/w2AGYsNt4To/s400/P1020384.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237071209536041330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Golden Mickeys Awards Dinner&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3QL0rO5YI/AAAAAAAAAT8/yyyh1PiuOBU/s1600-h/P1020393.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3QL0rO5YI/AAAAAAAAAT8/yyyh1PiuOBU/s400/P1020393.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237070843238868354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hiding under the table with a hunk of bread&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3PVi2R0VI/AAAAAAAAATk/4wbPBmbbPVg/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+092.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3PVi2R0VI/AAAAAAAAATk/4wbPBmbbPVg/s400/Cruisin%27+092.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237069910740422994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's something pretty...maybe a salad?&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3O0YROuSI/AAAAAAAAATU/Z-05e_tkNRs/s1600-h/P1020383.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3O0YROuSI/AAAAAAAAATU/Z-05e_tkNRs/s400/P1020383.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237069340964993314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not what s'mores looked like in Girl Scouts&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3OljIr03I/AAAAAAAAATM/bVlApLiv90s/s1600-h/P1020349.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3OljIr03I/AAAAAAAAATM/bVlApLiv90s/s400/P1020349.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237069086183904114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A non-Marie Callender's lemon meringue (good, but ours is better!)&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3OTwFcdII/AAAAAAAAATE/dWSIzkdR0lA/s1600-h/P1020347.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3OTwFcdII/AAAAAAAAATE/dWSIzkdR0lA/s400/P1020347.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237068780422329474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something with chocolate over chocolate with chocolate syrup&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3N-Mf-YPI/AAAAAAAAAS8/izuSc4e_hJ0/s1600-h/P1020345.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3N-Mf-YPI/AAAAAAAAAS8/izuSc4e_hJ0/s400/P1020345.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237068410092675314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheesecake, of course&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3Nf47pFJI/AAAAAAAAAS0/2qP68uI523M/s1600-h/P1020346.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3Nf47pFJI/AAAAAAAAAS0/2qP68uI523M/s400/P1020346.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237067889443935378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ummm...your guess is a good as mine&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3NQPq9iJI/AAAAAAAAASs/hMdAd0MixnE/s1600-h/P1020341.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3NQPq9iJI/AAAAAAAAASs/hMdAd0MixnE/s400/P1020341.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237067620670081170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan asked for creme brule and they gave him two! (He ate 'em)&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3M6BY6kFI/AAAAAAAAASk/IPSXl4yoMCM/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+097.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3M6BY6kFI/AAAAAAAAASk/IPSXl4yoMCM/s400/Cruisin%27+097.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237067238879170642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at Bethany ordering meat on a bone that wasn't cow. Isn't she big? She even tasted a little bit. Mama's so proud of her!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3MimS9OzI/AAAAAAAAASc/8VOPmbx58N4/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+090.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3MimS9OzI/AAAAAAAAASc/8VOPmbx58N4/s400/Cruisin%27+090.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237066836469431090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bethany and I even tasted a bit of Krista's swordfish. Yay, us! (it'll never happen again)&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3P9sCR_II/AAAAAAAAAT0/4yuRq_9TjHo/s1600-h/P1020391.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3P9sCR_II/AAAAAAAAAT0/4yuRq_9TjHo/s400/P1020391.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237070600401452162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew, taking a break between meals&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3RZk3MLOI/AAAAAAAAAUc/Gd3haNxyvho/s1600-h/P1020529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3RZk3MLOI/AAAAAAAAAUc/Gd3haNxyvho/s400/P1020529.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237072179023850722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-1108132119010295810?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/1108132119010295810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=1108132119010295810' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/1108132119010295810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/1108132119010295810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2008/08/how-i-spent-my-summer-vacation.html' title='How I Spent My Summer Vacation'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SK3WgsXvHFI/AAAAAAAAAV0/fR2z6Y5eHzU/s72-c/Cruisin%27+080.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-1428278804433608120</id><published>2008-08-12T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T16:35:17.245-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And the winner is...</title><content type='html'>Our cruise took place during an interesting week. Lots of things happening in the world. We certainly had access to the news. Because Disney owns ABC, we weren't able to watch the Olympics on NBC. (we substituted the Wii Olympics...still lots of fun &amp; it came with hot wings and nachos, but no opening ceremonies) We followed the sudden death of Bernie Mac, the invasion of Georgia, and John Edward's "mistake."* Another interesting aspect of that week was that nearly all of the summer reality shows had their finales. Before we left, I made sure the TiVo would record all those finales, then I carefully avoided any news report that might refer to the winners. Imagine my surprise when I learned that the media considers a war to be more pressing news than the Next HGTV Design Star!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, may God bless and keep the inventor of TiVo, and may he and his descendants live long and prosper. Also, the fellow who came up with the oscillating fan. Love you, man,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Monday morning I arose very early, and began watching the finales. Oh, yes; and God bless the inventor of the fast forward button. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Design Star&lt;/strong&gt;: Loved them both. Thrilled that she won. But I would have TiVo'd his shows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;America's Best Dance Crew&lt;/strong&gt;: semi-finals. Can I really stand one more week of Li'l Mama and her outlandish grammar? Oh, I do love the fast forward button!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nashville Star&lt;/strong&gt;: YES! Melissa rocks. I've already downloaded her single.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So You Think You Can Dance&lt;/strong&gt;: Once Will was eliminated, I didn't really care who won. LOVED Katee, but I'm happy with adorable Joshua.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Mole&lt;/strong&gt;: My first year to watch this show, and I was confused a LOT. But I had Craig pegged as The Mole from week 3. I'm glad Mark won because he's a caring husband &amp; father, and had expressed that his desire was for his wife to be a stay-at-home mom to their 4 kids. Awww...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shear Genius&lt;/strong&gt;: hasn't ended yet. Kinda too bad. What a bunch of divas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Project Runway&lt;/strong&gt;: just barely started. Yay! What a bunch of divas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, reality television...I confess I missed you more than my dog. You entertain me, you challenge me, you are ever interesting. Plus you don't shed on the furniture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Dear Mr. Edwards, A "mistake" is when you mismatch your socks or forget to add salt to the potato salad. Your actions were premeditated, selfish, sneaky, and purposeful. Shame on you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-1428278804433608120?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/1428278804433608120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=1428278804433608120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/1428278804433608120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/1428278804433608120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-winner-is.html' title='And the winner is...'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-2892378687410153258</id><published>2008-08-10T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T21:20:37.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Once Upon a Dream</title><content type='html'>We just got home from our 7-night vacation aboard the Disney Magic. We cruised the Mexican coast, and visited Cabo, Mazatlan and Puerto Vallerta. Here are a few of the hundreds of photos we took.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-5tkyMjuI/AAAAAAAAAR0/CNM7MSho3Bk/s1600-h/P1020445.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-5tkyMjuI/AAAAAAAAAR0/CNM7MSho3Bk/s320/P1020445.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233105484647272162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Isn't she a beauty? When she pulls out of port, her horn blasts the first seven notes of &lt;em&gt;"When You Wish Upon A Star."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-pHgURVzI/AAAAAAAAAOs/WFOqrvM7DIw/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-pHgURVzI/AAAAAAAAAOs/WFOqrvM7DIw/s320/Cruisin%27+013.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233087238426941234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Greeted by Minnie at the Port of Los Angeles. Hey, we aren't even on board yet...has anyone seen Cameron?&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-pjyLZQkI/AAAAAAAAAO0/22hieuDVWKI/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-pjyLZQkI/AAAAAAAAAO0/22hieuDVWKI/s320/Cruisin%27+016.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233087724257886786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I teared up a little when they announced over the loudspeaker, "Disney Magic, welcome the Lopez Family!" &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-qQ6cZ6BI/AAAAAAAAAO8/dYrBD6436GA/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-qQ6cZ6BI/AAAAAAAAAO8/dYrBD6436GA/s320/Cruisin%27+019.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233088499570829330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was Ryan's first cruise. It won't be his last.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-qidEb8FI/AAAAAAAAAPE/gqM1Cz-p_tU/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-qidEb8FI/AAAAAAAAAPE/gqM1Cz-p_tU/s320/Cruisin%27+035.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233088800923316306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Lifeboat drills really take it out of me. Well, aren't we supposed to relax on this cruise? I'll wake up in time for dinner...maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-tKrYL45I/AAAAAAAAAPs/0yJEFunErfU/s1600-h/P1020280.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-tKrYL45I/AAAAAAAAAPs/0yJEFunErfU/s200/P1020280.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233091690982269842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-t5975JRI/AAAAAAAAAP0/FvCv4FAjAv8/s1600-h/P1020274.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-t5975JRI/AAAAAAAAAP0/FvCv4FAjAv8/s200/P1020274.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233092503417726226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Robbie and Cam hit the pools before we had set the luggage down. And they stayed in one or the other of the pools for most of the trip. They are very clean...and wrinkly.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-u7TqYxgI/AAAAAAAAAP8/cWCtzpElk4g/s1600-h/P1020380.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-u7TqYxgI/AAAAAAAAAP8/cWCtzpElk4g/s320/P1020380.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233093625941378562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Live theater included original musicals, magicians, and comedians. We also saw &lt;em&gt;Wall-E&lt;/em&gt; in the Buena Vista Theater. And they premiered &lt;em&gt;Swing Vote&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-vm5KDsJI/AAAAAAAAAQE/K6B5kbjxa9s/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+063.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-vm5KDsJI/AAAAAAAAAQE/K6B5kbjxa9s/s320/Cruisin%27+063.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233094374740701330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's Bethany reading her book. I think she finished 3 or 4 entire pages before the book was stuck back in the bag and Bethany decided she could read at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-9vcBQ7lI/AAAAAAAAASE/6-ebgddxOMc/s1600-h/P1020425.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-9vcBQ7lI/AAAAAAAAASE/6-ebgddxOMc/s320/P1020425.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233109914700803666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hanging out on the deck. We're all red and crispy today.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-wy5sToWI/AAAAAAAAAQM/sRPDed6gsq0/s1600-h/P1020406.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-wy5sToWI/AAAAAAAAAQM/sRPDed6gsq0/s320/P1020406.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233095680554410338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cam is watching pods of whales and flying fish.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-x9uIt-_I/AAAAAAAAAQc/TJ26vwV7o8s/s1600-h/P1020517.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-x9uIt-_I/AAAAAAAAAQc/TJ26vwV7o8s/s200/P1020517.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233096965942541298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-xig62g3I/AAAAAAAAAQU/LoTTKRwZsmE/s1600-h/P1020496.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-xig62g3I/AAAAAAAAAQU/LoTTKRwZsmE/s200/P1020496.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233096498538251122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chef Robs made salsa. Is it bueno, Robs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-33E5uixI/AAAAAAAAARk/n7IQ0W8Iygc/s1600-h/P1020441.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-33E5uixI/AAAAAAAAARk/n7IQ0W8Iygc/s320/P1020441.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233103448864361234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Look at Ryan parasailing! Without a hard hat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-ywX1OXeI/AAAAAAAAAQk/swK02w3SFR0/s1600-h/P1020612.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-ywX1OXeI/AAAAAAAAAQk/swK02w3SFR0/s320/P1020612.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233097836128525794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We snorkled...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-zP6uzU3I/AAAAAAAAAQs/NmOoNHOhX2Q/s1600-h/P1020653.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-zP6uzU3I/AAAAAAAAAQs/NmOoNHOhX2Q/s320/P1020653.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233098378072773490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...and went "cow-wacking" (thanks, Cam; that is now and forever part of the family's lexicon!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-0O1ItYQI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/HEmAZOcX7PM/s1600-h/P1020694.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-0O1ItYQI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/HEmAZOcX7PM/s320/P1020694.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233099458902581506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We hiked to a waterfall with Yelapa nationals. (I didn't go; instead I slipped getting into the water taxi and broke several toes. I didn't take a picture of my black/blue/purple foot. You're welcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-47ksn4pI/AAAAAAAAARs/xrICeaTnuBU/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-47ksn4pI/AAAAAAAAARs/xrICeaTnuBU/s320/Cruisin%27+050.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233104625630438034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had a few "sea days" to just relax and hang out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-1B_JITLI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/y5AEsWh0uRM/s1600-h/P1020556.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-1B_JITLI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/y5AEsWh0uRM/s200/P1020556.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233100337762028722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh, yes; we ate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-1eqPAxzI/AAAAAAAAARE/pKOHyVWVByo/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+090.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-1eqPAxzI/AAAAAAAAARE/pKOHyVWVByo/s200/Cruisin%27+090.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233100830365763378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And we ate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-1247ih-I/AAAAAAAAARM/WiOPmOpoL8U/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-1247ih-I/AAAAAAAAARM/WiOPmOpoL8U/s200/Cruisin%27+095.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233101246627481570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And ate some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-7hus7V3I/AAAAAAAAAR8/w9FoXdLEi9g/s1600-h/Cruisin%27+046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-7hus7V3I/AAAAAAAAAR8/w9FoXdLEi9g/s200/Cruisin%27+046.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233107480174352242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And just to be safe, we ate a little bit more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, Disney Magic. We had a wonderful vacation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-3LOKraAI/AAAAAAAAARc/TqAk8StiIoc/s1600-h/P1020785.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-3LOKraAI/AAAAAAAAARc/TqAk8StiIoc/s400/P1020785.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233102695437133826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;See You Real Soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-2892378687410153258?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/2892378687410153258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=2892378687410153258' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/2892378687410153258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/2892378687410153258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2008/08/once-upon-dream.html' title='Once Upon a Dream'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I59oHdOaZSU/SJ-5tkyMjuI/AAAAAAAAAR0/CNM7MSho3Bk/s72-c/P1020445.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-4597889207987224825</id><published>2008-07-31T20:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T21:51:00.134-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Take a breath and chill</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:cW9AhU4d3rWgQM:http://www.athleticsgalore.com/marine1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:cW9AhU4d3rWgQM:http://www.athleticsgalore.com/marine1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tomorrow is August first. That means the Great Thanksgiving Gearing Up begins at our restaurant. We typically sell about 10,000 pies in the span of 2 days! So now we begin. The holiday pie boxes will be ordered, along with the extra million cans of pumpkin. The typical foothills of flour and sugar bags will soon rival Everest. Pie order cards will be sent to the printers. Employee training classes will be scheduled. It's an insane, fun time of year. Everyone works so hard, and surprisingly, the cooperation level increases. And so do the Crazy Customer stories. Here's one of my favorites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Thanksgiving morning, and the line for pies went around the building. In that line was &lt;em&gt;this &lt;/em&gt;fellow: 50-something white guy, about 5'2", nasty little grey beard, camo pants, black lace-up boots, black eagle t-shirt, camo billed cap covered with various sharpshooter pins. Can you see him? Don't you just know this guy woke up that morning with a really BAD attitude, and was looking for someone to bully. He had come in the evening before (with no pie reservation) and we were out of pumpkin pie. That happens maybe twice during the holiday season, and when it does there usually will be a rack of 160 of them, fresh out of the oven, cooling in the freezer...so we don't hand a customer a box of molten pie. You're welcome.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, GI Joe was still mad (because you know, we really DID have a bunch of pumpkin pies, but we were HIDING them, just to tick him off. Only him. No one else.) He decided he wanted someone (read: me) to feel the heat of his ire. So he got in my face...actually my neck...and snarls, "What would you do if I decided to storm this place in front of all these customers?"&lt;a href="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:NGUwnRS2alh7FM:http://wouldashoulda.com/wp-content/uploads/pumpkin-pie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:NGUwnRS2alh7FM:http://wouldashoulda.com/wp-content/uploads/pumpkin-pie.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Storm this place"? Seriously? STORM a restaurant? with 50 employees running around and 100 customers standing in line? Over an eight-dollar pie?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I smiled my sweetest smile, and in my very best the-customer-is-always-right voice I said, "Well, sir, I would call the police and have your butt dragged off to jail. In front of all these customers. Sir." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He got all puffed up and blustery, and demanded my name because he was going to call corporate the next day and report my ill-mannered behavior. Again I smiled, "Let me give you my business card so that when you call to &lt;em&gt;tell on me&lt;/em&gt;, you get my name right. You will not come into MY restaurant, and threaten the safety of MY employees and MY customers. Now here's your pie. You will leave this building, and do not ever come back to this restaurant. Oh, and have a lovely Thanksgiving. Sir."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We haven't seen him since. He's probably down the street terrorizing Coco's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-4597889207987224825?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/4597889207987224825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=4597889207987224825' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/4597889207987224825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/4597889207987224825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2008/07/take-breath-and-chill.html' title='Take a breath and chill'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-5369249422696643614</id><published>2008-07-31T13:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T14:03:04.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Na na na na NAH na...you say it's your birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:kceQEPr07VgXeM:http://images.birthdayinabox.com/BIABviewLarger/FBDayMiniPin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:kceQEPr07VgXeM:http://images.birthdayinabox.com/BIABviewLarger/FBDayMiniPin.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started this blog a year ago today. Reading back through the posts has been an interesting ride...so much has changed. A blog is like a newsy Christmas letter (Dirty Little Geekret: I LOVE newsy Christmas letters!) and I have enjoyed my little walk down memory lane. Here's to another year. May our blog numbers increase as more and more join the ranks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-5369249422696643614?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/5369249422696643614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=5369249422696643614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/5369249422696643614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/5369249422696643614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2008/07/na-na-na-na-nah-nayou-say-its-your.html' title='Na na na na NAH na...you say it&apos;s your birthday'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-7487246219353139981</id><published>2008-07-28T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T14:29:30.101-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Much Time on His Hands</title><content type='html'>If I were a member of the idle rich, and if I had endless time, and if I had a bit of artistic talent...&lt;a href="http://img.metro.co.uk/i/pix/2008/06/SnailFree_450x300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img.metro.co.uk/i/pix/2008/06/SnailFree_450x300.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...no; I still wouldn't do this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-7487246219353139981?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/7487246219353139981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=7487246219353139981' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/7487246219353139981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/7487246219353139981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2008/07/too-much-time-on-his-hands.html' title='Too Much Time on His Hands'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262497899212344744.post-7191108431091976743</id><published>2008-07-26T14:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T15:01:29.781-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Fail-safe Recipe from the Uncook</title><content type='html'>Honestly, there is not much I enjoy less than meal prep. I dislike planning menus, I don't like the grocery store, I detest schlepping the bags of groceries home and into the house, I am not a fan of the whole wash-prep-store stage, I am insecure about that tricky heating process, I do NOT like the mess of pots and pans and plates, and I honestly don't really even like &lt;em&gt;eating &lt;/em&gt;all that much. If I lived alone, I'd develop a deep, abiding relationship with the cereal aisle. Cheerios would become my passion. Raisin Bran would be my raison d'etre. Tony the Tiger would be my Number One guy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps one of the great ironies of my life is that I LOVE the Food Network. I've never cooked a single thing I've seen on it, but I love it nonetheless. It's my version of the romance novel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here's my mom's meatloaf recipe. It's one of 2 or 3 recipes she left me, (I get my "I Hate to Cook" DNA from her) and it's a pleaser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;2# ground meat    &lt;br /&gt;2 eggs&lt;br /&gt;15 saltine crackers, crushed&lt;br /&gt;Bell pepper, diced (I don't like it, so I put in about 1/4 cup)&lt;br /&gt;Onion, diced (or shake in some dry stuff)&lt;br /&gt;Seasoning salt (maybe 2 tablespoonsful...I like this stuff)&lt;br /&gt;Pepper (to taste. I like lots of this, too)&lt;br /&gt;1 small can Tomato sauce (reserve some for the top)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moosh it all together in a big bowl, and press it into your loaf pan. Make a nice moat around the outside -- you'll need it to collect the grease. Bake it at 375 for about 45 minutes, then top it with the reserved tomato sauce, and bake it another 10-15 minutes. Dump the grease, slice it up, serve it with baked potatoes and green salad. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nana would be so proud.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/262497899212344744-7191108431091976743?l=suejohnson0.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/feeds/7191108431091976743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=262497899212344744&amp;postID=7191108431091976743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/7191108431091976743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/262497899212344744/posts/default/7191108431091976743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejohnson0.blogspot.com/2008/07/another-fail-safe-recipe-from-uncook.html' title='Another Fail-safe Recipe from the Uncook'/><author><name>MamaSue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05900357156195451885</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='06967448996625972360'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>