<?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-31479008</id><updated>2009-12-06T10:59:57.715-09:30</updated><title type='text'>The Burrow</title><subtitle type='html'>It may be chaotic, sometimes, silly, a little messy - but it's our life and we love it!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default?orderby=updated'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;orderby=updated'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>500</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31479008.post-3410475721506778133</id><published>2009-12-05T14:07:00.002-09:30</published><updated>2009-12-05T14:17:03.872-09:30</updated><title type='text'>Oh Tanenbaum!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>So last night we had an EPIC night of decorating our new Christmas tree! We had a great time picking it out - it was a Home Depot special because our usual source - the Boy Scouts - were nowhere to be found! So we had dinner at Jim N Nick's where it took about two hours to order and eat BBQ and baked beans. You would think we had ordered flambe of peacock it took so long ... but we got our tree on what, I am sure, could turn out to be the coldest night of the year, so it was perfect! We got the tree in and up in the stand and went straight to bed!&lt;div&gt;The real fun began Friday evening. Aunt Holley came over and we started to decorate, but we started drinking Pomegranate Martinis first. We were all lit up more than the tree by the time Auntie got to the house. Holley dubbed the martinis (correct me if I am wrong Hol, I can't quite remember!) "Train Wrecks" but I kept trying to call them "Homewreckers" which they are not ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;DH spent a little too much time with the homewreckers and could not drive to meet his friends at the local bar. Never fear! Said friends sent a cab for him - bwhahahahahaha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After DH left, Hol, Jen and I helped navigate the destruction, er, decoration, of the tree. It looks great! We watched Polar Express, Santa and Rudolph and Frosty and had drinkies and chocolate chip cookies. It was so fun!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the crack of 2:00 a.m. DH came home with a snowball in his fist - it snowed! In the morning when we woke up the world was frosty white and beautiful! Jack Frost had visited and left us a gorgeous morning. The crazy part was that DH had agreed to march in the Homewood parade with his Ultimate pals from BUDA - so at 7:30 a.m. he bundled up E and S to march in the parade! Toes and I stayed home, snuggled on the sofa, read books, had hot chocolate, and cleaned up from the night before.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As if all this was not festive enough, DH and I took the girl to the library in the afternoon where we created Fancy Nancy "splediferous" hairdoos - E and S joined in and had their hair spray painted green - twine, pipe cleaners, tiny ornaments and tinsel were sprinkled in their hair. It was crazy fun!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the morrow we will be heading to church then on to E's First Communion meeting!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pics of our outings later ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;k&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-3410475721506778133?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/3410475721506778133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=3410475721506778133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/3410475721506778133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/3410475721506778133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/12/oh-tanenbaum.html' title='Oh Tanenbaum!!!!!!'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31479008.post-7253177354340552170</id><published>2009-12-03T09:00:00.002-09:30</published><updated>2009-12-03T09:06:41.311-09:30</updated><title type='text'>Future Plans</title><content type='html'>On our way to Kentucky for Thanksgiving we stopped at a Cracker Barrell just outside of Nashville and had the following conversation(s):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: So, girls - what do you think you want to be when you grow up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S: I want to be a doctor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E: I want to be a championship swimmer or diver, because I LOVE the water!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: I, um. I, um ... I want ... I want to be a Happy Howiday Sowng.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: So, Essie, why do you think you want to be a doctor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S: So I can help people. So they don't get hurt by terrible things like lightning. Or tigers and bears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I thought ... do you think she meant &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lions and Tigers and Bears&lt;/span&gt;?????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, Pop's latest invention is to torture me when she is angry by telling my that I am NOT her mother and I canNOT come to her birthday party.&lt;br /&gt;Little does she know this does not matter much to me. But I let her believe she has the upper hand for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also?&lt;br /&gt;Last night we were saying prayers and Pop has become extremely vigilant about her dinner prayers - mostly, I think, because she does not want to actually have to eat dinner. Here's what she said last night:&lt;br /&gt;            Dear God, fank you for my famiwy and my mom and my dad and for my sistews. Fank you for all my things I have and my famiwy and fank you for my bed and my mommy and nanna and pwease can you come to my birfday pawty? yes? fanks.&lt;br /&gt;amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-7253177354340552170?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/7253177354340552170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=7253177354340552170' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/7253177354340552170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/7253177354340552170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/12/future-plans.html' title='Future Plans'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31479008.post-3126583918855608987</id><published>2009-11-11T15:54:00.003-09:30</published><updated>2009-11-11T16:01:08.766-09:30</updated><title type='text'>Nouns, Sometimes Plural Ones</title><content type='html'>Tonight E. was working on her homework when she said "Mom? How do I do woman plural?" and I didn't really have an answer for that b/c I honestly wasn't sure where the conversation was going ... but she finished her sentence with " I thought maybe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;womans&lt;/span&gt; or ladies" so I told her the correct plural form is "women". It seems the 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; graders are working on plural nouns. Later as we watched Sponge Bob (of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Squarepants&lt;/span&gt; variety) a character was being buried and E. said "look, he's being graved" and I said "huh?" and she said " you know, they are putting his body in the ground!" and I said "oh, you mean buried, right?" - this is, in fact, what she meant ...&lt;div&gt; you wouldn't want to be "graved" alive would you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, I will soon upload photos of our AWESOME trip to St. Louis, it was really a great weekend with family! Also, Essie wants me to video her singing Yankee Doodle in costume. In costume, in this case, means Yankee Doodle-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;esque&lt;/span&gt; Revolutionary War cap and pajamas. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lastly, I am working on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;DH's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;xmas&lt;/span&gt; present! It will be handmade by me and here's a hint - it matches his eyes (swoon).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;xo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;k&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-3126583918855608987?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/3126583918855608987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=3126583918855608987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/3126583918855608987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/3126583918855608987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/11/nouns-sometimes-plural-ones.html' title='Nouns, Sometimes Plural Ones'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31479008.post-179960385036216333</id><published>2009-11-06T03:18:00.002-09:30</published><updated>2009-11-06T03:24:04.729-09:30</updated><title type='text'>A Little Halloween</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SvQcLpue5cI/AAAAAAAAB9M/aw0aLprZMwA/s1600-h/toes+and+sawyer+halloween+09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SvQcLpue5cI/AAAAAAAAB9M/aw0aLprZMwA/s320/toes+and+sawyer+halloween+09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400972839629022658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SvQcLt0-HEI/AAAAAAAAB9E/07UvBVb9iu4/s1600-h/girls+09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SvQcLt0-HEI/AAAAAAAAB9E/07UvBVb9iu4/s320/girls+09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400972840729975874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SvQcLSzIOuI/AAAAAAAAB88/Gye9h640FdQ/s1600-h/halloween+hayride+09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SvQcLSzIOuI/AAAAAAAAB88/Gye9h640FdQ/s320/halloween+hayride+09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400972833474493154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been so lazy about downloading my Halloween photos. Our friend Erin put hers on facebook, so I took them :)&lt;br /&gt;Long story short, we rocked Halloween this year. We went to parties, parades, trick or treated at the library, then went on a Halloween Hayride in the neighborhood while the girls and their friends went trick or treating. Let's just say when daddy and his friend Joe are driving the truck that pulls the hayride there's no stopping. The kids were practically begging to quit trick or treating, but daddy and Joe were having fun! Toes eventually sat in the hay wagon with her twizzlers and ReFuSeD to get out of the wagon. The older two grudgingly agreed to keep trick or treating although E's bag (provided by Aunt Holley) was so overfull that it busted open. The down side to all this was we were TIRED! The up side? We have two rooster cookie jars and another wire rooster full of candy. If the apocalypse comes we will be eating candy till our teeth rot out, but we will be energized with sugar...&lt;br /&gt;My photos will be here next week, promise!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-179960385036216333?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/179960385036216333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=179960385036216333' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/179960385036216333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/179960385036216333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/11/little-halloween.html' title='A Little Halloween'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SvQcLpue5cI/AAAAAAAAB9M/aw0aLprZMwA/s72-c/toes+and+sawyer+halloween+09.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-31479008.post-9012674617866265725</id><published>2009-11-03T15:51:00.002-09:30</published><updated>2009-11-03T15:55:03.547-09:30</updated><title type='text'>How Columbus Came to America</title><content type='html'>by E.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;According to E., Christopher Columbus came to America with his crew and soldiers on three ships:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the Nina, the Pinta, and the Sacagewea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She told us this over dinner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;xo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;k&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-9012674617866265725?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/9012674617866265725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=9012674617866265725' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/9012674617866265725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/9012674617866265725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/11/how-columbus-came-to-america.html' title='How Columbus Came to America'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31479008.post-2107001459731343825</id><published>2009-10-24T13:29:00.001-09:30</published><updated>2009-10-24T13:54:06.851-09:30</updated><title type='text'>Evie Knieval Meets Noccalula</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SuOHuRZIu6I/AAAAAAAAB7s/hBEbcvmtWrY/s1600-h/100_0943.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; FLOAT: left; CLEAR: both" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SuOHuRZIu6I/AAAAAAAAB7s/hBEbcvmtWrY/s320/100_0943.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SuOHumrhPWI/AAAAAAAAB70/CYW-blzqLcI/s1600-h/100_0967.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; FLOAT: left; CLEAR: both" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SuOHumrhPWI/AAAAAAAAB70/CYW-blzqLcI/s320/100_0967.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today is our 11&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; anniversary! To celebrate, DH and I thought about taking our kiddos to Chattanooga to see Rock City, Ruby Falls and the Tennessee Aquarium. Then we thought again. Maybe something closer to home - so we chose &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Noccalula&lt;/span&gt; Falls in Gadsden, AL. We had the BEST time! As you can see, we have had plenty of rainfall, so the sound of the falls was near deafening and so beautiful! We drive to Gadsden and the weather was perfect - fluffy clouds, partly cloudy, bursts of sun over the Appalachian Foothills. Gorgeous! Before we hit the highway, though, we stopped by Target where we got some snacks and spent some time in the parking lot where DH drove like a maniac. In fact, he was driving so *well* that I commented he was driving like Evil &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Knieval&lt;/span&gt; to which E. replied "only if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Eviel&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Knieval&lt;/span&gt; is a really bad driver!" which we all thought was hilarious. Well, except DH.&lt;div&gt;Later, when we got to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Noccalula&lt;/span&gt; Falls we rode the train, which was so fun! It was very cold though, much colder than I expected. The train ride took us through all the old pioneer homes and shops on the grounds. We stopped by the falls, climbed rocks, hiked to the bottom of the gorge, and then hiked back up. There is a nice petting zoo - we saw bunnies, a lion, lots of birds, goats, deer and chickens. Oh, and several BIG roosters. It was very nice and clean, and the landscaping was really beautiful. We took the girls down to the bottom of the gorge where we hiked along the riverbank and got to climb on some huge cool rocks. The waterfall was pretty, but the rapids and the rest of the river were so pretty! The trees were changing their clothes for the fall and all the leaves were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;BrIlLiAnT&lt;/span&gt;! There were some really cool rock formations too ... I would totally pay the $6 per person again, we had fun inside the park, especially on the train and in the petting zoo - so much fun, in fact, that we didn't really even get to see the covered bridge, pond, pioneer villages and some of the waterfall overlook. I couldn't believe we had never taken the girls, because it was such a nice park and so beautiful. It was also impressive because it was clean and seemed to be in great repair! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We finished our trip outside the park in the open area of the falls - there is no fee to see the headwaters. There were tons of ducks and geese swimming in the water and riding the rapids, and a nice wooden bridge over the river. We played there for a while and in the playground before heading home to Sol &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Azteca&lt;/span&gt; for margaritas and chips and salsa. While I went back for the car, DH stayed with the girls on the playground. This is what I heard when the girls got in the car, ready for snacks:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHINE, whine, WHINE, whine ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Noccawuwa&lt;/span&gt; wouldn't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;tawk&lt;/span&gt; to me"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SOB&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHINE&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I am sad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Noccawuwa&lt;/span&gt; would not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;tawk&lt;/span&gt; to me"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(this was all said by Toes who was red of eye and wet of face - I couldn't understand what was going on and waited for an explanation of some sort)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I passed out apples and cheese while Toes sobbed. She refused sustenance several times before she said "I will have some cheese but it's too bad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Noccawuwa&lt;/span&gt; would not talk to me."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I say, this is a good thing. I mean, have you seen &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;BIG&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;? Toes could end up perpetually three years old. Or, the CEO of a huge toy conglomerate.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The non talking fortune teller has REALLY upset Toes. She &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt;’ talk about anything else on the ride home. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We finished up our evening at Sol &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Azteca&lt;/span&gt; with a giant fishbowl of margarita and some cheese dip, it was perfect!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SuOHu-VNHcI/AAAAAAAAB78/aGojziLJFWM/s1600-h/100_0991.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; FLOAT: left; CLEAR: both" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SuOHu-VNHcI/AAAAAAAAB78/aGojziLJFWM/s320/100_0991.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SuOHvCYysQI/AAAAAAAAB8E/UGSIPZ6Aid8/s1600-h/100_0993.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; FLOAT: left; CLEAR: both" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SuOHvCYysQI/AAAAAAAAB8E/UGSIPZ6Aid8/s320/100_0993.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="clear:both; text-align:LEFT"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-2107001459731343825?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/2107001459731343825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=2107001459731343825' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/2107001459731343825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/2107001459731343825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/10/evie-knieval-meets-noccalula.html' title='Evie Knieval Meets Noccalula'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SuOHuRZIu6I/AAAAAAAAB7s/hBEbcvmtWrY/s72-c/100_0943.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-31479008.post-8045993184481397</id><published>2009-10-24T05:21:00.003-09:30</published><updated>2009-10-24T05:26:31.248-09:30</updated><title type='text'>A Narrative Adventure with Toes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SuMVd7KCzMI/AAAAAAAAB7M/UIr1B9YGuxM/s1600-h/100_0848.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SuMVd7KCzMI/AAAAAAAAB7M/UIr1B9YGuxM/s320/100_0848.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396180382360194242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;Here is a (sort of) narrative from Toesy&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; Toes: She was in my class where I was doing something and she kicked me in the leg.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;She I mean she and her and he just kick me on the bottom of the weg and I didn't wike it and they did it to me again and again and Sunday they did it and Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday they did it and Sunday and Monday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-Times New Roman&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; Me (the Mom): So they kicked you a lot?&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; Toes: Yeah&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; Me (the Mom) Why?&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; Toes: B/c they invite me to their dance party and I didn't want to jump or do ice cream or cake&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;b/c i was ANGRY I didn't know so I didn't do anything but JUMP!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; Me (the Mom): I'm sorry Toes.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; Toes: B/c they said I couldn't do anything but jump.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; Me (the Mom): Who was this persecuting you?&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; Toes: um. Sam kick me when I was in my party and he kicked me Sam my friend the big kid friend Sam the big kid friend was in the class and then he kicked me when I was in the party at school.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; Me (the Mom): You sound angry.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; Toes: I sound angry b/c I don't wike it in my class. I wike it at home and the beach. We can't go to the beach at our home b/c we don't know where the beach is now I don't wike it for the day of the week. mom. i wove you but  don't want to stay here b/c its not my home. I want to go to my gramma's house to say there b/c I don't want you to kiss me.  B/c I am going on a trip with my gramma and when I die I can't come back again.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; Me (the Mom) No. No, when you die you can't come back again.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; Toes: So if I die and my gramma dies with the me and she comes back with my I say thanks for buying me a present for my birthday and I kissed her but she kicked me b/c she's a baby again. But no more except I didn't want it to be something.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;color:black;"&gt;The End.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-8045993184481397?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/8045993184481397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=8045993184481397' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/8045993184481397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/8045993184481397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/10/narrative-adventure-with-toes.html' title='A Narrative Adventure with Toes'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SuMVd7KCzMI/AAAAAAAAB7M/UIr1B9YGuxM/s72-c/100_0848.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-31479008.post-3205119952857247578</id><published>2009-10-14T15:41:00.002-09:30</published><updated>2009-10-14T16:00:11.807-09:30</updated><title type='text'>Bed Bugs &amp; Ravioli</title><content type='html'>This is what we do every night:&lt;br /&gt;get home&lt;br /&gt;homewhirlwind ... er ... homework &lt;br /&gt;dinner&lt;br /&gt;baths&lt;br /&gt;bedtime&lt;br /&gt;Now bedtime is its own ritual and here's how it works:&lt;br /&gt;E and S brush their teeth and get in their own beds for reading time. Toes either has me or DH read a story in her bed or she gets in ours, mainly because I feel like we are distracting E &amp; S by reading out loud. After read aloud with Toesy, E &amp; S usually get a readaloud because I'm their mom &amp; I feel guilty.&lt;br /&gt;Here's the cutest part. Every night after I tuck them in and get water and give kisses and help somebody go to the bathroom and run cats out of their room and retuck in and hand out more kisses Toesy says to me, very LOUdlY&lt;br /&gt;"don't let the bug bites"&lt;br /&gt;or sometimes&lt;br /&gt;"don't let the bug bites bites"&lt;br /&gt;it's never the right saying, but it's always the cutest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also DH says that yesterday Toesy told him she wanted ravi and oli for dinner. How funny is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is E's class Mass and she has a reading. Expect pictures!&lt;br /&gt;xo&lt;br /&gt;k&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-3205119952857247578?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/3205119952857247578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=3205119952857247578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/3205119952857247578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/3205119952857247578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/10/bed-bugs-raviolo.html' title='Bed Bugs &amp; Ravioli'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31479008.post-7699968476900039320</id><published>2009-10-13T09:38:00.000-09:30</published><updated>2009-10-13T09:40:17.502-09:30</updated><title type='text'>Headed In THe Right Direction!</title><content type='html'>Ran today! Almost a mile, walked the other half a mile. Yeah!&lt;div&gt;Weight still hovering around 190 - PROMISED myself I would be at 185 by my birthday :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Swore to sis that I would be able to run the Village to Village run (8K) so MUST keep running!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Funny story about my iPod and Essie to come later.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh! and pics of my new skirt that lady and I made Sunday - WiThOuT a pattern, thank you very much!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;xo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;k&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-7699968476900039320?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/7699968476900039320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=7699968476900039320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/7699968476900039320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/7699968476900039320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/10/headed-in-right-direction.html' title='Headed In THe Right Direction!'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31479008.post-7462176099406551677</id><published>2009-10-12T06:32:00.003-09:30</published><updated>2009-10-12T06:41:44.718-09:30</updated><title type='text'>R.I.P. Challange The Third Nail In The Coffin!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/StNVIrXBYXI/AAAAAAAAB5c/3-CqaSYZ_N0/s1600-h/lost+souls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 80px; height: 119px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/StNVIrXBYXI/AAAAAAAAB5c/3-CqaSYZ_N0/s320/lost+souls.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391746786459214194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have been on a ROLL on the R.I.P. Challenge!&lt;div&gt;Last weekend I finished &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://encore.bham.lib.al.us/iii/encore/record/C%7CRb2531752%7CSthe+house+of+lost+souls%7COrightresult?lang=eng&amp;amp;suite=def"&gt;The House of Lost Souls by F.G. Cottam&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;, which was ExCeLlEnT. I really enjoyed it.  This book starts out with a bang - a strange funeral, madness, and a ghostly hearse - and that's just the first chapter. It's in the second chapter that we meet our novel's protagonist, Paul Seaton, who has his own tragic and eerie past. He is charged with the task of discovering what happened to a group of students who went on a college trip to a haunted house on the Isle of Wight. Why did the group of students go? Who led them there? What did they hope to find? Paul has an idea why these things happened, because he has been to the house and witnessed its horrors. Will Paul be able to discover what happened to these students? Will he be able to save the girl who lies in a near coma, possibly possessed by a demon? The tension and the scares build throughout the novel and do not let up.  &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;The House of Lost Souls&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; is really a great horror novel, check it out for yourself!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-7462176099406551677?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/7462176099406551677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=7462176099406551677' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/7462176099406551677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/7462176099406551677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/10/rip-challange-third-nail-in-coffin.html' title='R.I.P. Challange The Third Nail In The Coffin!'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/StNVIrXBYXI/AAAAAAAAB5c/3-CqaSYZ_N0/s72-c/lost+souls.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-31479008.post-5053761087482743435</id><published>2009-10-12T06:27:00.002-09:30</published><updated>2009-10-12T06:29:32.753-09:30</updated><title type='text'>R.I.P. Challange The Second Nail In The Coffin!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/StNSK4Zj2sI/AAAAAAAAB5U/WxUYuj6A1h0/s1600-h/unseen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 171px; height: 258px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/StNSK4Zj2sI/AAAAAAAAB5U/WxUYuj6A1h0/s320/unseen.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391743525784378050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://encore.bham.lib.al.us/iii/encore/search/C%7CSthe+unseen%7COrightresult%7CU1?lang=eng&amp;amp;suite=def"&gt;The Unseen&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;a href="http://encore.bham.lib.al.us/iii/encore/search/C%7CSthe+unseen%7COrightresult%7CU1?lang=eng&amp;amp;suite=def"&gt; by Alexandra Sokoloff  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;th&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "&gt;is weekend and I was so creeped out -  it was excellent! The premise: a woman with latent psychic powers discovers her fiancé is cheating on her. She ditches her life in California for a new one in North Carolina where she will be a professor of psychology at Duke University. Within her first few weeks in her new position, she discovers the archives of a now closed parapsychology lab. Once she delves into the boxes she finds clues to a tragedy which occurred thirty years before. Before she knows it, our protagonist finds herself at a house purported to be haunted.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I won’t give away much more of the story – but it’s a good one! Part thriller, part mystery, part ghost story, &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;The Unseen&lt;/i&gt; will leave you feeling spooked for sure! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-5053761087482743435?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/5053761087482743435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=5053761087482743435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/5053761087482743435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/5053761087482743435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/10/rip-challange-second-nail-in-coffin.html' title='R.I.P. Challange The Second Nail In The Coffin!'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/StNSK4Zj2sI/AAAAAAAAB5U/WxUYuj6A1h0/s72-c/unseen.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-31479008.post-1094497742709523195</id><published>2009-09-18T16:34:00.002-09:30</published><updated>2009-09-18T16:39:59.037-09:30</updated><title type='text'>It's Official</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SrQ8QupH2nI/AAAAAAAAB4c/oF6kd0Qtz4I/s1600-h/h1n1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SrQ8QupH2nI/AAAAAAAAB4c/oF6kd0Qtz4I/s320/h1n1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382993712710670962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toes had the test and has this nasty bugger.&lt;div&gt;That's right, swine flu :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is what H1N1 looks like. Yucky, isn't it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She stayed home from school on Thursday with a fever but NO symptoms, her fever only got worse and last night it was like a faucet had been turned on. Her little nose was running, she was sneezing, and in the middle of the night she came in our room crying and coughing like a wounded seal. Not that I have ever been around a wounded seal, but I have a good imagination. It sounded croupy, but when DH took her to the pediatrician's office her little nose swab came back positive. So. No visit to the Smokey Mtns for us :( &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At first we decided that I would take E and S to the festival, but they have not been feeling their best either, and I could just imagine getting our there in a field in the rain and someone coming down with a fever. Would you want to drive for four and a half hours with a sick kid trapped in your car? Not only that, I started thinking, what if we got there and I got sick? I might not feel good enough to drive all the way home :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So. we stayed home. I took E and S to see Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs. I have pics to prove it (two pics, actually, of the girls in their 3D glasses). It was a really funny, cute movie and I very much enjoyed it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone's in bed now, and hopefully the fever will dissipate in the littlest of them all - and not contaminate anyone else!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;later&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;k&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-1094497742709523195?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/1094497742709523195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=1094497742709523195' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/1094497742709523195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/1094497742709523195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-official.html' title='It&apos;s Official'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SrQ8QupH2nI/AAAAAAAAB4c/oF6kd0Qtz4I/s72-c/h1n1.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-31479008.post-7221312027451053636</id><published>2009-09-17T12:24:00.002-09:30</published><updated>2009-09-17T12:40:02.956-09:30</updated><title type='text'>Coming Up ... A BIIIIIIIIG Weekend!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SrKzjNaW3xI/AAAAAAAAB4U/HK3xKeXHbu4/s1600-h/Fall-Mountain-Fog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 296px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SrKzjNaW3xI/AAAAAAAAB4U/HK3xKeXHbu4/s320/Fall-Mountain-Fog.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382561922138169106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This morning guess what I got by way of a wake up call?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Toesy had a fever :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For some reason I have had the MOST stressful week in a long time and this just was not the best time, but I made the best of it. Toesy and I watched a LOT of Spongebob and thankfully her ONLY symptom is a fever, so I am not cleaning up vomit or diarrhea - although I did clean poo off the Children's Department floor last night. It was grand :)&lt;/div&gt;So you know my birthday is next week. What? You didn't know that? How silly of you! Of course it's next Wednesday - it's practically a national holiday. This year I had some very practical, yet exciting requests for my birthday:&lt;div&gt;a. Dumplin Valley Bluegrass Festival (check)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;b. A frozen lasagna from Holley (TBA)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;c. A batch of spaghetti sauce from sis (TBA)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;d. a batch of chilli from lady (TBA)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was informed by DH this week that on Tuesday next birthday festivities will commence with fried chicken, biscuits and gravy, and green bean casserole at lady and d's, followed by best cake ever, which, if you don't already know, is made by Olexa's and is decadence incarnate - chocolatey chocolate and PeAnUt bUtTer!!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Toesy says I should blow out exactly three candles. So I shall :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, DH was getting the girls breakfast the other morning when he realized E. was prancing around the kitchen singing "I feel bitchy, I feel bitchy." Of course this little song threw him off ... I heard some yelling and came to find that E. can indeed read and has been reading my refrigerator magnets. whoops. i bought it at Target! I thought everything at Target was wholesome - HA!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't wait for the principal to call.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So tomorrow we head off for Kodak, TN and the Dumplin Valley Bluegrass Festival. I am super excited. All reports from DVBF facebook posts indicate that fun is ALREADY being had!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, later&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;k&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-7221312027451053636?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/7221312027451053636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=7221312027451053636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/7221312027451053636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/7221312027451053636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/09/coming-up-biiiiiiiig-weekend.html' title='Coming Up ... A BIIIIIIIIG Weekend!'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SrKzjNaW3xI/AAAAAAAAB4U/HK3xKeXHbu4/s72-c/Fall-Mountain-Fog.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-31479008.post-7529561235625877725</id><published>2009-09-10T11:26:00.001-09:30</published><updated>2009-09-10T11:26:53.532-09:30</updated><title type='text'>A Film, If You Will ...</title><content type='html'>This is SO funny :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z1gqLERzk_w&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z1gqLERzk_w&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-7529561235625877725?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/7529561235625877725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=7529561235625877725' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/7529561235625877725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/7529561235625877725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/09/film-if-you-will.html' title='A Film, If You Will ...'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31479008.post-7179746615312676340</id><published>2009-09-09T15:09:00.002-09:30</published><updated>2009-09-09T15:13:16.486-09:30</updated><title type='text'>Duck, duck, duck, duck, duck ...</title><content type='html'>Goose!&lt;div&gt;That's what we played on our newly completed, carpeted and FiNiShEd playroom in the basement. Yeah!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;DH and I are not as quick on our feet as we used to be, and duck, duck goose is not the same. Our children are definitely quicker ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We also played Turkey, turkey, sticker and Crayon, crayon, pencil.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pics of newly finished rooms soon!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, am about half way through Natasha Mostert's fascinating little novel "Season of the Witch" and very happy with it!&lt;br /&gt;-k&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-7179746615312676340?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/7179746615312676340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=7179746615312676340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/7179746615312676340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/7179746615312676340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/09/duck-duck-duck-duck-duck.html' title='Duck, duck, duck, duck, duck ...'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31479008.post-7525354578860548053</id><published>2009-09-07T03:43:00.002-09:30</published><updated>2009-09-07T03:49:02.442-09:30</updated><title type='text'>Interlude With Toes</title><content type='html'>As you may have noticed, Toes loves to sing. And talk to herself. So here's another interlude I transcribed from last night. She and Essie were sent to their room because they were wrestling on my bed, which, if you can believe it, is SO not relaxing. From what I could tell, they were playing dress up and this is what I heard:&lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Toes: Separate it! It’s not separated! Ow! I keep fawwing! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;One there ... one there ... one right &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;(Giggles. Then quiet)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Scout I’m ...&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Separate separate it!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(Toesy was actually singing it, not saying it)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Covers need covers&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Scout. Cock a doodle doo time to wake up!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;(At this point DH walks in their room and I hear the following)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;                    DH – what is all this stuff?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;                    Toes – I'm getting dressed for the ball!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;(Toesy runs into my room to announce herself, and yes, there are mispellings b/c this is exactly how it sounded when she said it)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ta da princess of Poppy! Wooka wooka wook!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I didn’t weawy put panties on b/c I don’t like them on. I’ll put them on at bed.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Where is the world is my water?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Scout do you have my water? Where is it?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mama where’s my wader?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I want some.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You guys! Turn it up!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;(Here Toesy signs a song)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Different&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;of me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Come to meee meee eee eee eee&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;(Bangs into our bed)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ow! Hahahahaha!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sings and spins around bed dangerously&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Looooo aaahhhh haaaaa whhhoooooo&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ow!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I twipped!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dances madly and giggles&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Oooooooo …. O!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-7525354578860548053?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/7525354578860548053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=7525354578860548053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/7525354578860548053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/7525354578860548053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/09/interlude-with-toes.html' title='Interlude With Toes'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31479008.post-4212539818141316563</id><published>2009-09-07T03:19:00.004-09:30</published><updated>2009-09-07T03:37:13.949-09:30</updated><title type='text'>R.I.P. Challenge - The First Nail In The Coffin!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SqUFcHlvdWI/AAAAAAAAB3k/p-zJbLStbFI/s1600-h/rip4banner200.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 208px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SqUFcHlvdWI/AAAAAAAAB3k/p-zJbLStbFI/s320/rip4banner200.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378711310595749218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So &lt;a href="http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/08/rip-challange.html"&gt;remember how I posted that I was going to join the R.I.P. Challenge&lt;/a&gt;? Well, I finished my first book and started my second. At the urging of &lt;a href="http://holleyshouse.blogspot.com/2009/09/short-new-reading-challenge.html"&gt;Holley&lt;/a&gt;, I started Guilermo del Toro's novel The Strain and boy, was it good! I started listening to the CDs in my car about a week ago, but quickly realized that zombie vampires and a car full of 1st and 2nd graders was not going to work, so I checked the book out of the library as well. I finished it in less than a week by listening and reading. This is one GREAT novel. It's suspenseful, a real thriller, and also SO scary. &lt;div&gt;THe basics of the plot:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A plane lands at LaGuardia airport in New York but no one disembarks. No one. There is no communication from the cockpit. The plane itself seems to be dead. Bwahahahahaha! Epidemiologists from the CDC are called in because it is assumed something has gone horribly wrong. And boy has it.  Let's just say The Strain is exactly that and much more. If you get the heeby jeebies easily (as I do) you will need to sleep with your dog in the room with you or with your light on. It's also good I don't live in New York City. &lt;div&gt;I told Holley that it was also the grossest book I think I have ever read, I mean really: pus, worms, blood, all kinds of disgusting protuberances. I cannot wait for the good Mr. del Toro to adapt this for film, I may have to watch through my fingers, though. No, scratch that, I will have to watch through my fingers. No doubt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I give this gross-out zombie/vampire novel five caskets out of five for creepiness, screams, things that go bump in the night, unexplained shadows and sheer terror. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;k&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-4212539818141316563?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/4212539818141316563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=4212539818141316563' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/4212539818141316563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/4212539818141316563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/09/rip-challenge-first-nail-in-coffin.html' title='R.I.P. Challenge - The First Nail In The Coffin!'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SqUFcHlvdWI/AAAAAAAAB3k/p-zJbLStbFI/s72-c/rip4banner200.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31479008.post-1584349863006653639</id><published>2009-09-04T16:12:00.003-09:30</published><updated>2009-09-04T16:22:15.933-09:30</updated><title type='text'>The StRaIn!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SqHDa_aup8I/AAAAAAAAB3c/5Gj9uTCizk8/s1600-h/strain"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 86px; height: 130px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SqHDa_aup8I/AAAAAAAAB3c/5Gj9uTCizk8/s320/strain" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377794298524641218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I meant to comment earlier that I have been listening to Guilermo del Toro's riveting horror novel, &lt;a href="http://vulcan.bham.lib.al.us/search~S1?/tthe+strain/tstrain/1,13,16,B/frameset&amp;amp;FF=tstrain&amp;amp;2,,4/indexsort=-"&gt;The Strain&lt;/a&gt; written with Chuck Hogan. If fast paced thriller plot and gruesome horror are your kind of thing, you are going to lurv it :0&lt;div&gt;I am about half way through and have checked out the book so I can read it at night to keep the momentum going. It's told from several viewpoints, so the plot moves quickly and it is SO addictive. I cannot put the thing down. Also, here's the deal, these vampires are DiSgUsTiNg. I am absolutely telling you they are monsters and not at all the kind of thing you would want to find in your bed. And this is not at all true for all vampires (cough *Asher* cough). Sigh. Even if you think you don't like horror, you need to try this out. Fan.Fun.Tastic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;k&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-1584349863006653639?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/1584349863006653639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=1584349863006653639' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/1584349863006653639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/1584349863006653639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/09/strain.html' title='The StRaIn!'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SqHDa_aup8I/AAAAAAAAB3c/5Gj9uTCizk8/s72-c/strain' 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-31479008.post-570588756741473735</id><published>2009-09-04T15:45:00.002-09:30</published><updated>2009-09-04T16:04:59.278-09:30</updated><title type='text'>One Week Closer to ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.dumplinvalleybluegrass.com/"&gt;Dumplin Valley&lt;/a&gt;! We will be going to a weekend bluegrass festival in TN in about two weeks and I cannot wait. For real, I told DH that this was what I wanted for my birthday. So. Excited! &lt;div&gt;So, this weekend, DH and I are getting serious about:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a. cutting the grass - mostly so our neighbors don't riot, but also b/c we need to have a clean lawn for b.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;b. we need to camp out this weekend. Have to! We do not want to be pitching the tent with little ones in it for the first time in Kodak, TN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;c. Relaxing and having fun - can you believe we are going to let our hair down? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had the YuMmIeSt dinner tonight - DH made a black bean, corn and mango dish with onions, garlic, cumin, cilantro, lime juice and peppers. I added about another cup of cilantro and some cheddar jack cheese and OMG :0 We're going to jack it up next time with some sour cream and boy howdy. You'll slap your mama.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tomorrow Holley is going to dye my hair purple (not ALL of it, mind you), we are going for a hike at Ruffner Mtn. and then we are going to pre party with Prosecco and the last of this summer's peaches. I am going to bake some Purple Haze goat cheese and munch on that and then, THEN, Dougie and I get a night out. WHOOOO HOOOO! Hol is watching the girls (I hear there my be Lady and the Tramp and MadLibs involved. My girls LURV MadLibs, they are truly mine). Hol is also bravely putting herself out there as the first person to spend the night in our new guest bedroom downstairs. I am not sure about the comfort level of the bed down there, but Hol assures me she can sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, both E and S did a great job on their spelling and science tests. I was particularly proud of E. who had been misspelling the words straight, breeze and stream all week but made a 100 on her test. She even spelled skeleton correctly for bonus points ;) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All rightey, I gotta go force chamomile tea down Essie's throat in hopes that she will sleep through the night. For the past week she has kept herself (and us) awake through the night with coughing. Her inhaler does not seem to be helping, so a trip to the pediatric pulmonologist is in our future. But, at my behest, DH acquired Delsym, chamomile tea and Vick's Vapor Rub - I'll let you know if we sleep or not!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;k &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-570588756741473735?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/570588756741473735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=570588756741473735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/570588756741473735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/570588756741473735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/09/one-week-closer-to.html' title='One Week Closer to ...'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31479008.post-41509941950311078</id><published>2009-09-01T15:21:00.003-09:30</published><updated>2009-09-01T16:11:17.513-09:30</updated><title type='text'>Halloween! And Bedtimes! And Laundry!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/Sp3LLdOIiII/AAAAAAAAB3U/lzowppHvL1c/s1600-h/100_0762.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/Sp3LLdOIiII/AAAAAAAAB3U/lzowppHvL1c/s320/100_0762.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376676927833147522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This just in:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Evie: I want to be St Mary for Halloween.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: That's a good idea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;DH: Who's St. Mary?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Evie: You know, Mary, Jesus' father!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;DH: Mary is the father of Jesus?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Evie (giggles like a crazy flamingo): I want to wear a sheet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also? I really really really want to be Mrs. Shields for Halloween :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also? Toes slept all night last night without a pull up and no accidents! Yeah :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're going for night number two. Keep your fingers crossed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also? Essie speaks with authority on a variety of subjects whether she knows about said subject or not. This is very similar to someone else in our home. Someone who is very tall and wears a beard and it is not Santa. So you know she comes by it naturally.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also? If the laundry fairy could stop by our house, it would be most helpful as there as BaSkEtS of laundry that need to be put away :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also ... this weekend is a long one - YEAH! DH and I have a wedding Saturday night, which will be nice, but even better is that Holley is joining us in the afternoon to check out the new craft room, have dinner with us, watch the girls while DH and I go to the wedding, and then, THEN, Holley is going to inaugurate the new guest bedroom! I am uber excited. It doesn't take much people ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This is an almost completely one sided conversation with Poppy from bedtime. Here’s the scene – Poppy came into our room after lights out. DH and I were reading when&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Toes comes in and says all of this, almost without taking a breath:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ll get in bed after I tell you guys something&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Once …&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Um.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I really didn’t…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;(Here she sighs)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I really didn’t …&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Didn’t …&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Get anything. But I didn’t eat anything. Because my head hurts and I don’t wiwwy feel good. I didn’t eat anything and I only had yogurt and yogurt wouldn’t feel me better. I’m not sick I’m just not … &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in"&gt;(At this point, DH yells: Pop! Please stop stepping on whatever you are stepping on! – &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in"&gt;which is a plastic bottle, so this is annoying)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I wiwwy wanted you to give me a hug and kiss before you leaved this morning. You didn’t give me a kiss and I didn’t want you to go b/c you are my best mommy in the whole world. Why do you have to go to work?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Me: To make money?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Toes: Why do you need money?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Me: To live?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Toes: You make money at work?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Me: Uhhuh&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Toes: And then you go home?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Me: Yep&lt;br /&gt;Toes: And you have to go back to school then back to work? (at this point I feel I am reliving E’s soliloquy on experiencing life from just the other day)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Toes: I want to kiss you on your nose.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;k&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-41509941950311078?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/41509941950311078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=41509941950311078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/41509941950311078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/41509941950311078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/09/halloween-and-bedtimes-and-laundry.html' title='Halloween! And Bedtimes! And Laundry!'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/Sp3LLdOIiII/AAAAAAAAB3U/lzowppHvL1c/s72-c/100_0762.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-31479008.post-3075238295128335406</id><published>2009-08-31T12:21:00.003-09:30</published><updated>2009-08-31T12:40:32.032-09:30</updated><title type='text'>In Which Scout Does Not Admit Defeat As Much As States The Obvious ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SpxKOvh4GFI/AAAAAAAAB3M/PpJfn8RIuoI/s1600-h/100_0733.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SpxKOvh4GFI/AAAAAAAAB3M/PpJfn8RIuoI/s320/100_0733.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376253672310708306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Essie and I are doing homework ... it's first grade math, so you would think I could help easily, but for whatever reason, Essie and I do not always communicate well. We are working on a way of understanding how to get the number eleven out of three numbers - as in:&lt;div&gt;11 is  ____ and ____ and ______&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so we do all kinds of combos (3 and 5 and 3, 8 and 1 and 2, etc.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then there are all these crazy boxes and the kids have to diagram how they would fit all numbers of balls into boxes. THEN, as if this craziness were not enough, we get this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Reasoning Writing In Math&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Write your own question about putting some balls into three boxes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm thinking that I do not know what the hell this means and what I am supposed to help Essie do because, really, people, write a question about putting balls in boxes????&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And Essie and I are going back and forth about what numbers to throw out there when she says "Okay, okay, OKAY! I've got it."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, that was just fine with me, until I looked at her answer (which to her credit was very straight forward):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"I do not noe enee uv that"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Translation: I do not know any of that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First - I laughed so hard that I cried. This is Essie, for real, she will just tell you, straight up - I don't know the answer and now you know I don't know. I mean, she &lt;i&gt;wrote&lt;/i&gt; a sentence, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Second - I thought it was a pretty good answer. Third? I told her she would have to wait for her father to get home to answer the question.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;k&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;k&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-3075238295128335406?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/3075238295128335406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=3075238295128335406' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/3075238295128335406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/3075238295128335406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/08/in-which-scout-does-not-admit-defeat-as.html' title='In Which Scout Does Not Admit Defeat As Much As States The Obvious ...'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SpxKOvh4GFI/AAAAAAAAB3M/PpJfn8RIuoI/s72-c/100_0733.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-31479008.post-6229761590563558258</id><published>2009-08-30T07:47:00.002-09:30</published><updated>2009-08-30T07:49:37.071-09:30</updated><title type='text'>I Just Have A Few Other Projects to Finish First ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RoMr4cfG5Ao/SoLW8E6nNfI/AAAAAAAACp8/F6a9mm9YE3w/s576/IMG_1199.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 499px; height: 576px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RoMr4cfG5Ao/SoLW8E6nNfI/AAAAAAAACp8/F6a9mm9YE3w/s576/IMG_1199.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But &lt;a href="http://aquiltisnice.blogspot.com/2009/08/princess-and-pea-baby-quilt.html"&gt;this is a contender&lt;/a&gt; for the next one! For on thing? I love love love the fabricy mermaid goodness! For another, I like the negative space, and for another? I don't usually quilt or craft with these colors and find them oddly appealing.&lt;div&gt;What say you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to finish the cherry quilt and the Christmas quilt before I can even think about another one!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;xo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ik&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-6229761590563558258?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/6229761590563558258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=6229761590563558258' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/6229761590563558258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/6229761590563558258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-just-have-few-other-projects-to.html' title='I Just Have A Few Other Projects to Finish First ...'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RoMr4cfG5Ao/SoLW8E6nNfI/AAAAAAAACp8/F6a9mm9YE3w/s72-c/IMG_1199.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-31479008.post-7221683782005736389</id><published>2009-08-28T16:25:00.004-09:30</published><updated>2009-08-28T17:02:06.600-09:30</updated><title type='text'>E's Profound Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SpiSspIpWbI/AAAAAAAAB3E/GGhRqD99D2Q/s1600-h/100_0730.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SpiSspIpWbI/AAAAAAAAB3E/GGhRqD99D2Q/s320/100_0730.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375207450920704434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was coming out of my room to take Annie outside, the following conversation took place:&lt;div&gt;E: Mama, sometimes I wonder about how other people live.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: You know, me too&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E: You can live your whole life and not experience it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: That's a deep thought E.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E: I mean, you get up, you go to work, you come home! You do the same thing every day, but you might not experience it! (stumbles over toys in her bedroom and mumbles to self).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later, in our room, E says:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"did you know there are 75 petals on every flower? there are! just look in this book. it says right here on page two. wait. (whispers to self) yep, right on page two. well, it's not really a page, it just tells about the story. there are 72 flowers on each petal. i mean, petals on each flower. and if you count them all up in your garden that are the same kind. if you have three roses plus three dandelions equals 106. "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i say:   "say that again?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;she says:    "uh. i forgot what i just said."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;xo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;k&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-7221683782005736389?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/7221683782005736389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=7221683782005736389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/7221683782005736389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/7221683782005736389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/08/es-profound-thought.html' title='E&apos;s Profound Thought'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SpiSspIpWbI/AAAAAAAAB3E/GGhRqD99D2Q/s72-c/100_0730.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-31479008.post-1563887363220255485</id><published>2009-08-28T15:38:00.002-09:30</published><updated>2009-08-28T15:48:18.685-09:30</updated><title type='text'>Toesy's Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SpiBxAjEB7I/AAAAAAAAB28/cClACYMDgpY/s1600-h/100_0787.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SpiBxAjEB7I/AAAAAAAAB28/cClACYMDgpY/s320/100_0787.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375188834227324850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toesy sang this to me tonight. At times she clapped for herself or broke out in a dance and I have noted it in parenthesis. At other times she talked and I have noted that as well ...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Toesy’s Song&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Once they were climbing out of that tree&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A monkey tree&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dance the hyper ginger&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;January February&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That once we were gonna sing&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Come on, let’s clap&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;One two three for five&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dance the February song&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They were climbing out of the tree&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They were climbing out of the tree&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They were on (pooting noise)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They were (strange dance movement)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Once they were the fish of …&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And the egg climbed out of the egg&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The egg popped out of that egg&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The end&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;(claps for herself, then begins singing again)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Once they climbed out of that tree&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;One two three&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Why did I call the fisher wife&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Six seven eight nine ten&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I did the carpet on your&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;(claps for herself)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They were dancing&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They were monkeys and they climbed on that tree&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;(is shouting at top of her lungs now)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Yeah Charles and scout!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;(claps for herself)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Oh mama and dada and scout and poppy and evie&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They were fishes and they bringed her&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Her night of museum movie&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;stops singing …&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“can I have some of your iced tea b/c I like it?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“I wike iced tea”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Can I have anover sip?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“I can’t drink all of it” (shakes her curls at me)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Can I write on somefing?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Can I write on this?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“I wanna see how I write”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Can I take a picture of you?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Me: “No”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Toes: “Why?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Me: “b/c”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Toes: “what does your name spell with?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Me: “Toes, I love you”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Toes: “Can I go to the bathroom?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-the end-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-1563887363220255485?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/1563887363220255485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=1563887363220255485' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/1563887363220255485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/1563887363220255485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/08/toesys-song.html' title='Toesy&apos;s Song'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zFYOdy08yCI/SpiBxAjEB7I/AAAAAAAAB28/cClACYMDgpY/s72-c/100_0787.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-31479008.post-2458696108888405237</id><published>2009-08-28T07:30:00.003-09:30</published><updated>2009-08-28T07:32:17.464-09:30</updated><title type='text'>I Love Embroidery</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.sewmamasew.com/media/blog/SBHphoto28.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 600px;" src="http://www.sewmamasew.com/media/blog/SBHphoto28.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I have gobs of time to embroider all over things... but i do l&lt;a href="http://sewmamasew.com/blog2/?p=911"&gt;ove love love these patterns&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31479008-2458696108888405237?l=lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/feeds/2458696108888405237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31479008&amp;postID=2458696108888405237' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/2458696108888405237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31479008/posts/default/2458696108888405237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifeattheburrow.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-love-embroidery.html' title='I Love Embroidery'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02516618573296747040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05246394149087323973'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>