tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71662496600128368572024-02-06T23:03:23.311-06:00365 Snapshotswhere enthusiasm trumps skillLaura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.comBlogger198125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-88337377210500029802012-04-24T22:05:00.002-05:002012-04-24T22:05:38.874-05:00Pretense<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br /></div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-7792909098483667562012-04-15T10:34:00.002-05:002012-04-15T10:34:56.300-05:00Man on Tramp Action<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The night of all of the <a href="http://365snapshots.blogspot.com/2012/04/just-swingin.html" target="_blank">swingin'</a>, the whole family was outside. </div>
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Even Junie-girl. </div>
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We enjoyed one another's company, watching the kids swing with their Dad (HI, BROCK!), and a fire. </div>
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And until I saw this shot, I forgot there were s'mores.<br />
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I know mere s'mores don't explain the watch.<br />
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But this should.<br />
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While Jenna (HI, BOO!) and Motown Philly (HI, PHIL!) egged him on, Tom executed jump after jump for me. (HI, TOMMY! I'm still dizzy from watching you do these.)<br />
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Just so I could get this shot.<br />
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God bless boys who understand that fun is how you make it.<br />
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Good on ya, Tommy.<br />
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<br /></div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-13650909888251623662012-04-07T18:04:00.002-05:002012-04-07T18:04:38.304-05:00Nice Buns<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br /></div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-84248177946313773902012-04-02T00:17:00.000-05:002012-04-02T00:17:02.221-05:00Just A Swingin'<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As the weather warms up, we're all outside more often.<br />
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These are the days that make living in the frozen-freaking-tundra worth it ten times over.<br />
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No one understands this more than children.<br />
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Specifically, my nephews.<br />
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One of the sweetest of pleasures is when we can be outside as the sun goes down.<br />
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<i>Especially</i> if it's outside and on the swing set.<br />
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Gavin, for example, finds it exhilarating.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJcfaJpHvg_0KWrfPdi-ktUuqjuUtHNvo2jSf0u-WDCnFVdSN9Bu4SFnbWqqfWFpMEn_k4RclO_hq1lb1R0kw3CAAsYbrmRt1mBtIyKj9x3IKUmYW2DFJUWLIm2rq8h74RPqtS9Ppv5Lc/s1600/Gavin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJcfaJpHvg_0KWrfPdi-ktUuqjuUtHNvo2jSf0u-WDCnFVdSN9Bu4SFnbWqqfWFpMEn_k4RclO_hq1lb1R0kw3CAAsYbrmRt1mBtIyKj9x3IKUmYW2DFJUWLIm2rq8h74RPqtS9Ppv5Lc/s640/Gavin.jpg" width="451" /></a></div>
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Nolan agrees.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5vdBm-8iRCUC8VAqbVanKKcCZFKXM-BBPNSuKb_kKRvRq281C8HJroDN74nzPuVfbix62Sf_4pDgwU1ls1msrtfF87looMb23z1_I6RanriinU8tn0lam_dnwRRJmR_uk0u_nNijQEoc/s1600/Nolan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5vdBm-8iRCUC8VAqbVanKKcCZFKXM-BBPNSuKb_kKRvRq281C8HJroDN74nzPuVfbix62Sf_4pDgwU1ls1msrtfF87looMb23z1_I6RanriinU8tn0lam_dnwRRJmR_uk0u_nNijQEoc/s640/Nolan.jpg" width="457" /></a></div>
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Being a Dad, Brock has fun, but in a more Dad-like fashion. </div>
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By making sure everybody else is having fun. </div>
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And keeping an eye on everybody at once. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUiB8n4d5pDSegDFnGyqYY8MmrXuuBjG00FP6KCCmlig5eQ5Lhq3joI9d9U_cG8D6X9kDA_qXxcncieA_Ml8gUXtSFm05iB6EKjq4fDdzNah4OO_QDjUFZ0RBkzPmqcY3tRYLRd3YDSuY/s1600/Brock+Both+Boys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUiB8n4d5pDSegDFnGyqYY8MmrXuuBjG00FP6KCCmlig5eQ5Lhq3joI9d9U_cG8D6X9kDA_qXxcncieA_Ml8gUXtSFm05iB6EKjq4fDdzNah4OO_QDjUFZ0RBkzPmqcY3tRYLRd3YDSuY/s640/Brock+Both+Boys.jpg" width="512" /></a><br />
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Like this sweet little nugget of a boy, for example.</div>
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We still don't know who was keeping an eye on Auntie Jenna. </div>
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In the next post, you'll see what Uncle Tom was up to.<br />
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For now, let's just say that kid is CRAZY flexible.<br />
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See you back here soon!<br />
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<br /></div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-84812542336246040462012-03-31T01:06:00.000-05:002012-03-31T01:06:43.553-05:00Fields, Drips and Toilet Seats<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There is a field along I29 in North Fargo that I love.<br />
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I've been meaning to stop for ... oh, about six years now, with the idea to stop and snap a few photos.<br />
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It's beauty always grabs me.<br />
<br />Sometimes it's foggy.<br />
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Sometimes cows are grazing.<br />
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Sometimes it's holding up a sunset.<br />
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And sometimes it's just still.<br />
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I love it in all its forms.<br />
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The tree line along the avenue is gorgeous, and I've always wondered what lay on the other side, hidden from view as I drive to and from work and all points southwest.<br />
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Turns out, it was a gate.<br />
<br />And another treeline.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM4GoX3NVb_sNRm-rYE9WArm_WXGiIPmNjswa9n04mr_-sP9wiE34lxkaSqHI8gAj7ZCa0HrrYf-pwTX8Jq4DwlcLBQ7S3mJoGbludynzSfzIJn4xSAii2B3S8Ph9iFfpERvuBFQzvU64/s1600/field.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM4GoX3NVb_sNRm-rYE9WArm_WXGiIPmNjswa9n04mr_-sP9wiE34lxkaSqHI8gAj7ZCa0HrrYf-pwTX8Jq4DwlcLBQ7S3mJoGbludynzSfzIJn4xSAii2B3S8Ph9iFfpERvuBFQzvU64/s640/field.jpg" width="456" /></a></div>
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And apparently, a discarded toilet seat.<br />
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Who knew?<br />
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Realizing the field shots weren't really that interesting, I glanced around for inspiration.<br />
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It wasn't until the drive out that I noticed the dripping.<br />
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Ladies and gentlemen?<br />
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I give you ... the dripping.<br />
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After that toilet seat, I bet you were worried about exactly <i>what</i> was dripping, weren't ya?<br />
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You're welcome.<br />
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<br /></div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-20393344146796336912012-03-27T21:13:00.001-05:002012-03-27T21:13:41.768-05:00When Amos Attacks<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Amos has a very specific foot-attacking methodology.</div>
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First, he tests each foot. </div>
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Presumably, this is for tenderness.</div>
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Or perhaps for mobility. </div>
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(Ya gotta choose the slower limb when you're little and the chosen limbs are bigger than you.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHtWWckdaO_Lu7YPb3lykjCkci2IjXY4R-iBW_qUPuLnrjJnMyaBoiTkb-6Jpl70lUN-z4bNSumcUzF3I61I1DXWhzbjgy96cmGbe9KQpaO0gN61qRps4UU82yl_yCe93kAg0UsDjkv2U/s1600/choosy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHtWWckdaO_Lu7YPb3lykjCkci2IjXY4R-iBW_qUPuLnrjJnMyaBoiTkb-6Jpl70lUN-z4bNSumcUzF3I61I1DXWhzbjgy96cmGbe9KQpaO0gN61qRps4UU82yl_yCe93kAg0UsDjkv2U/s640/choosy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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</div>
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Then he braces himself against the rejected limb, and begins to gnaw on whatever's at the end of the limb he has deemed worthy. (foot, hand, head ... it doesn't much matter)</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin1TX_5ATaL745CzVS7gROCia5mXjiERDUkt1Rgbf7_gEX5Tuzb1snA23VYEkfo_H60rk3Z_dXwE2UtOdw7wfoiGUZdJN_ewD2e70NmU2vB1eACp2n_RJWDfcPx90HQ4ZiMhdi5RbzSl0/s1600/steady+now.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin1TX_5ATaL745CzVS7gROCia5mXjiERDUkt1Rgbf7_gEX5Tuzb1snA23VYEkfo_H60rk3Z_dXwE2UtOdw7wfoiGUZdJN_ewD2e70NmU2vB1eACp2n_RJWDfcPx90HQ4ZiMhdi5RbzSl0/s640/steady+now.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">(note the amount of top left fang, and how much of it is buried)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div>
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Once he gnaws on the target, and it's the desired consistency (ground beef, for example), he abandons the rejected foot, swings his rear legs to the front, and adds the age-old 'rabbit kick' technique to the beatdown. </div>
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<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2oedf_LEmpYOjsgisgnJ0mX1C-mDrMROHnNOe8fqLrTuEVUiiU9PvGMCBHFd0tsQ8A95nSK4j0CvgSz_-l0akxVTqG9gElmr9N9MnmGYX7YD92Pdv_wvuclZDWg_BtA3PvJNx_ARVysA/s1600/rabbit+kick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2oedf_LEmpYOjsgisgnJ0mX1C-mDrMROHnNOe8fqLrTuEVUiiU9PvGMCBHFd0tsQ8A95nSK4j0CvgSz_-l0akxVTqG9gElmr9N9MnmGYX7YD92Pdv_wvuclZDWg_BtA3PvJNx_ARVysA/s640/rabbit+kick.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
Eventually, your screams of anguish break through his focus, and he conveys the one and only thought in his mind at that moment.<br />
<br />
What's wrong?<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvFg1n9jv0HSstURL9KwkSX8M6oDKGICAJrF-o4Vf-MBSI_agElB6a_iaDhhY2krBWx50wKbB206O9R5S5RpKHZetAPNiqJyARiwnaUW6MubU_AUUvjNlm_9MzzneG7NVT1D83GdTUpq4/s1600/who+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvFg1n9jv0HSstURL9KwkSX8M6oDKGICAJrF-o4Vf-MBSI_agElB6a_iaDhhY2krBWx50wKbB206O9R5S5RpKHZetAPNiqJyARiwnaUW6MubU_AUUvjNlm_9MzzneG7NVT1D83GdTUpq4/s640/who+me.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Damn cat.<br />
<br /></div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-36155335743707397192012-03-26T22:08:00.000-05:002012-03-26T22:08:54.480-05:00Just What I Needed<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Now, I'm not a fan of talking about the weather.<br />
<br />
It's petty.<br />
<br />
And pointless.<br />
<br />
The weather is the weather. Deal with it.<br />
<br />
That said, I have to talk about the weather to talk about where I want to go with this.<br />
<br />
Last week, the weather got downright summer-like.<br />
<br />
Temps in the 70's, and sunshine that is very much the light at the end of the tunnel after even the shortest of a winter here in the Northland.<br />
<br />
It made all of us think spring had fast-forwarded and that summer was upon us.<br />
<br />
There was grilling.<br />
<br />
And shorts-wearing.<br />
<br />
The number of pedicures skyrocketed.<br />
<br />
Yard work was attacked with a joyful vengeance.<br />
<br />
(There wasn't yard work at my house. If you thought that was possible, you're clearly drunk or new here.)<br />
<br />
Since I was (am?) recovering from pneumonia, and Lee himself was ill and taking care of me, none of the above happened in our house.<br />
<br />
(But especially not the yard work. Seriously.) <shudder><br />
<br />
One of those glorious days happened to be my first day back to work in a week.<br />
<br />
As I settled in to my office, I was warmed to the bone by sunlight steaming through the windows.<br />
<br />
And I had the place to myself.<br />
<br />
So I did what any red-blooded girl would do in the same circumstances.<br />
<br />
I picked a favorite Spotify <a href="http://open.spotify.com/user/124733737/playlist/1CoD5KnwCcAQgKXAZfiWg9" target="_blank">playlist</a> and turned it up.<br />
<br />
I grabbed an enormous stack of mail and my letter opener, and headed to the meeting table next to the window.<br />
<br />
And made myself a glass of iced tea.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoKQRKUKnSsugIjuUfez0RfAjxX75sXInCb8yo6eUxcroaxXKWh54QCMZlfyLWMeZRI6qynb-IGWwXYJZpUcMtIQa3Dz3YZGiOjELCa7yp8AbVJgZ-XEBjvHZtANryOrBTLoB3gARSngQ/s1600/happy+tea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoKQRKUKnSsugIjuUfez0RfAjxX75sXInCb8yo6eUxcroaxXKWh54QCMZlfyLWMeZRI6qynb-IGWwXYJZpUcMtIQa3Dz3YZGiOjELCa7yp8AbVJgZ-XEBjvHZtANryOrBTLoB3gARSngQ/s640/happy+tea.jpg" width="456" /></a></div><br />
Those were the best 15 minutes I've ever given myself.<br />
<br />
All with just a hint of mint.<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-67570647138002249722012-03-25T22:50:00.000-05:002012-03-25T22:50:51.369-05:00The Coolest Thing Ever<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When something like this ... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjm7jQUyB2ek_pbqOOnoB9OVUTm5ZhAiGvRhWVWORdMYpQjqcTfMu3tf0pUVyTBxr5dAoNZ-x8QNZP3yf1pFQk3ADz0SH5jJ8Deai_mESju5iUXBlLXXbL7e5anlZIp-LxzBU_qONLao/s1600/hard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjm7jQUyB2ek_pbqOOnoB9OVUTm5ZhAiGvRhWVWORdMYpQjqcTfMu3tf0pUVyTBxr5dAoNZ-x8QNZP3yf1pFQk3ADz0SH5jJ8Deai_mESju5iUXBlLXXbL7e5anlZIp-LxzBU_qONLao/s640/hard.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Can become something like this in a matter of seconds ...</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrppyovhCBRK5LLKY5a7h_L_pdHOgVAzL0LSLptgSDpbVXmsifgZrkYXt2BSKnZWXG2lsAibiqslUlaC2k453nqYKkzAWaj2zpRWoS4yNNzuRpfK89pzbc_hzPyQI2JWh2X4AyGSzKOPU/s1600/soft.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrppyovhCBRK5LLKY5a7h_L_pdHOgVAzL0LSLptgSDpbVXmsifgZrkYXt2BSKnZWXG2lsAibiqslUlaC2k453nqYKkzAWaj2zpRWoS4yNNzuRpfK89pzbc_hzPyQI2JWh2X4AyGSzKOPU/s640/soft.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That I can make into something like this ... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMuf__9ze2jvGIutndd0rxyUTwD5yZOOr3LyIYuFHFbWTgNIvrznKZzp65wU7vHGsMQDvY55tmikD5UjOg5n684zaNNV2W5RxKLgQ6EWaL_TviuJuI-uXFi0l3vbiSJB7eegpKT_L-qBw/s1600/all+done.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMuf__9ze2jvGIutndd0rxyUTwD5yZOOr3LyIYuFHFbWTgNIvrznKZzp65wU7vHGsMQDvY55tmikD5UjOg5n684zaNNV2W5RxKLgQ6EWaL_TviuJuI-uXFi0l3vbiSJB7eegpKT_L-qBw/s640/all+done.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Well, that's just a beautiful damned thing. Don't you think?<br />
<br />
(Now I just need to perfect my peanut sauce.)<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-41785242495447644492012-03-24T12:48:00.000-05:002012-03-24T12:48:49.085-05:00That Time Amos Ruined Something (Alternate Title: That Damned Cat)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Mike's friend, Tess, made him a piece of artwork. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Mike brought it home for safe-keeping.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I fell in love. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
Everything about that piece says, "Mike."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I asked if I could hang it in my office.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">He said, "sure". </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Me being me, I wanted to shoot it first.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So I propped it up on a stool near the window and started the process. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhryo1fAta18qGpJ7AS6ZnLcMzC5ijk4XwExJPhQHm6U1kw8RCsAFdBnXC7XAopnjuGbVpx_i4YbN5chNh36zg7USb-5mwTHgNpiG3wuXyetgJwXdTcQipn9BVrp-Jvrl6RGKpVswo_WP8/s1600/before.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhryo1fAta18qGpJ7AS6ZnLcMzC5ijk4XwExJPhQHm6U1kw8RCsAFdBnXC7XAopnjuGbVpx_i4YbN5chNh36zg7USb-5mwTHgNpiG3wuXyetgJwXdTcQipn9BVrp-Jvrl6RGKpVswo_WP8/s640/before.jpg" width="456" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I liked the texture of the blue and black drippy-thingies. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I loved that his posture, down to the way his mouth looks, was so much my boy I could almost feel him. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And that's when kitty disaster struck. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://awordfrommamalaura.blogspot.com/p/amos-kitty.html" target="_blank">Amos</a>, racing around, decided the stool would be the perfect place to zoom over on his way to the window. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And the artwork wound up on the floor.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Broken. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgwnkVZfr1NghowCbY7mrL699p0NTeM7eo5ZqPLuymQcmiQONRrwrWCMTQZa5O_UBvZQq3z1h136A2p6pCHVlJz5K8clsmVhCiBdJ7rif3HORHCHXGA8TlPSFH_2veD7X8c5__KUh5nzY/s1600/on+the+floor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgwnkVZfr1NghowCbY7mrL699p0NTeM7eo5ZqPLuymQcmiQONRrwrWCMTQZa5O_UBvZQq3z1h136A2p6pCHVlJz5K8clsmVhCiBdJ7rif3HORHCHXGA8TlPSFH_2veD7X8c5__KUh5nzY/s640/on+the+floor.jpg" width="456" /></a></div><br />
It happened so fast, and I didn't have my camera anywhere near ready to shoot.<br />
<br />
The only evidence I have of that cat's culpability is this, the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steve_Urkel" target="_blank">Steve Urkel</a>, "Did I do that?" sniff.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8AxY0Ygsp-fL5XlMUZBHJM-K24HkVNszwy6wBAGJ9X6Sf360IotRgBcuxzuJ-bFmRbrfH-6Xf9D1yPq0YrN69FIVKRoLkKqw-V-UtwewWediAO4kjCw5WY16iZ8AecY1sAL-h76peZaA/s1600/did+I+do+that.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8AxY0Ygsp-fL5XlMUZBHJM-K24HkVNszwy6wBAGJ9X6Sf360IotRgBcuxzuJ-bFmRbrfH-6Xf9D1yPq0YrN69FIVKRoLkKqw-V-UtwewWediAO4kjCw5WY16iZ8AecY1sAL-h76peZaA/s640/did+I+do+that.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
That's a cup one of the kids made in art class years ago. It's lumpy. I love it. <br />
<br />
And so I'm left with part of a piece of artwork.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWE14C4drdDM265Si1y1rjhdDAZirUaTogXWSfQivvz7pcJ52udmPJpn444NGwSIwGed7Q9tOF3T-auGoOHZ4r1ZvaDtPXH36aG0ik9iOZA0UCthc7CY7CYrXxu7N1wKNrN1zMOos8F8/s1600/damned+cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWE14C4drdDM265Si1y1rjhdDAZirUaTogXWSfQivvz7pcJ52udmPJpn444NGwSIwGed7Q9tOF3T-auGoOHZ4r1ZvaDtPXH36aG0ik9iOZA0UCthc7CY7CYrXxu7N1wKNrN1zMOos8F8/s640/damned+cat.jpg" width="456" /></a></div><br />
That damned cat.<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-5148730481228260682012-03-21T22:00:00.000-05:002012-03-21T22:00:02.835-05:00Caught Laughing: Kerron<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9DYnhxUGOMJZE2kVYzoilOspDt3ti3zm305FrzfcY5_XnCbbdgzD2Dco41K0ZZgM_S95U8iwH5f50DaWidGLK3nc4veg4JOG5LK0D5D6rs4mmp3Uqv2XzhCNvDDy5ZZNH94O_romyIPc/s1600/laugh+to+side.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9DYnhxUGOMJZE2kVYzoilOspDt3ti3zm305FrzfcY5_XnCbbdgzD2Dco41K0ZZgM_S95U8iwH5f50DaWidGLK3nc4veg4JOG5LK0D5D6rs4mmp3Uqv2XzhCNvDDy5ZZNH94O_romyIPc/s640/laugh+to+side.jpg" width="456" /></a></div><br />
<br />
</div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-86106562496182470602012-03-15T22:58:00.001-05:002012-03-15T22:59:19.829-05:00This Ain't Your Mama's Needlepoint<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As you likely know by now, <a href="http://awordfrommamalaura.blogspot.com/2011/05/arizona-mobile-phone-photo-tour.html" target="_blank">I ain't from around here</a>. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Being from another part of the country allows me to notice things the natives don't necessarily give a moment's consideration. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The subtle accent. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The taking off of shoes whenever a carpeted surface looms. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Scoffing at people who wind up driving into a ditch during a blizzard.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">An abundance of needlepoint and other needlecraft objects. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When you're from elsewhere, you really just want to fit in.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Which is why I've spent the last fifteen years working on the accent.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And remembering to wear "nice socks" so I can confidently remove my shoes in other folks' homes. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And calling the drivers on "Ice Road Truckers" pansies for ever being worried as they haul a load on glare ice in sub-zero temperatures. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Needlecraft, however, continues to stymie me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I just don't get it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Other folks do. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bible passages. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Optimistic quotes. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Comforting scenes of home and hearth. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Not me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I look at needlepoint, and all I can think is, "wouldn't it be funny to have something dirty in needlepoint?"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Which is where my friends come in.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sticking with the <a href="http://365snapshots.blogspot.com/2012/03/wanna-see-my-beaver.html" target="_blank">beaver theme</a>, I'm going to expose a little more of myself to you. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Something a friend who knows me well created. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Ladies and gentlemen, I give you a peak at something extraordinary. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Something that warms my heart. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And makes my chest and stomach hurt from laughing. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_iaj7-bOSU4q02-nMN-P-Pd0iD86LdGbEkAFFLXWLD2rBoCAKALfi9x2LjRd47Nx4ZMqGlaEGQ7P45AFpI7PbE6v9o3hVklfro6-cPwdpNjNaQxhjBz9SIvByTWX7uyiSNY_R1-9AoM/s1600/cks+sake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_iaj7-bOSU4q02-nMN-P-Pd0iD86LdGbEkAFFLXWLD2rBoCAKALfi9x2LjRd47Nx4ZMqGlaEGQ7P45AFpI7PbE6v9o3hVklfro6-cPwdpNjNaQxhjBz9SIvByTWX7uyiSNY_R1-9AoM/s640/cks+sake.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Want to see the whole thing?<br />
<br />
You've been warned.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjozKIr2EJ1V2jbS29S1P3x1QPiz5tPhfyeyR-exPEaEikp2cgkWyXJ4plRqSXNFpNkffmT04wSeuIEoIROzXbP39YpHLY7c1wvS4uL4_xowJ5-48L7zOj2MauaXVL_MI9N7vuyqUDGptk/s1600/fucks+sake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjozKIr2EJ1V2jbS29S1P3x1QPiz5tPhfyeyR-exPEaEikp2cgkWyXJ4plRqSXNFpNkffmT04wSeuIEoIROzXbP39YpHLY7c1wvS4uL4_xowJ5-48L7zOj2MauaXVL_MI9N7vuyqUDGptk/s640/fucks+sake.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
It hangs in my office, reminding me of all of the things I love about the Upper Midwest.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's good to be known. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
</div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-2002541738250077382012-03-06T20:16:00.000-06:002012-03-06T20:16:53.326-06:00Wanna See My Beaver?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I got a rock-awesome birthday present this year. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It hangs in my office, where I can gaze upon it whenever I have the urge.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And giggle.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Maniacally. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOujvM_PtoUFasP2PAvZ3TvuRj1o8lBdyTyyAQgmcyEfuOsniXVrQfI79MqDsq6KWT86vIuSGG_BmnO3N5ewS3L8Xyljo449DaBcg6SfbyhaAgzlScs7U5BT0sGPLfucZC1Brw0c1oKDI/s1600/look+at+my+beaver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOujvM_PtoUFasP2PAvZ3TvuRj1o8lBdyTyyAQgmcyEfuOsniXVrQfI79MqDsq6KWT86vIuSGG_BmnO3N5ewS3L8Xyljo449DaBcg6SfbyhaAgzlScs7U5BT0sGPLfucZC1Brw0c1oKDI/s640/look+at+my+beaver.jpg" width="456" /></a></div><br />
I know what you're thinking.<br />
<br />
And you're right.<br />
<br />
It is SO me!<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-51853518414152963762012-03-05T21:26:00.000-06:002012-03-05T21:26:23.082-06:00Hallmark Just Isn't Weird Enough<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">You know that friend that has their own spot on the couch?<br />
<br />
The one that will come to your house to borrow your internet while you're at work and start the dishwasher for you?<br />
<br />
The one that's been around for so long, they're family? They know most of your secrets and has certainly heard all the stories and seen all the quirks? Yeah. Hallmark doesn't have a card for that friend.(HI, GREENER!)<br />
<br />
So I had to make one.<br />
<br />
I should likely tell you this friend is a major fan of the <a href="http://awordfrommamalaura.blogspot.com/p/bob-cat.html" target="_blank">Bob</a>(cat).<br />
<br />
She knows his secrets, too.<br />
<br />
Which means she needed a card that would acknowledge her place in our family.<br />
<br />
Our tight, strange, kitty-centric family.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQvz0oRxOJV6JxymPOUmNP6LUAzZeJvKf7Yc3lrFE1PWMN4U7NgeCau8sDjtVXWSKzBrLxnP7Uf8Cv12lNDq93koQYa43wl75_vNGqLGk40a9Y90zeYBymukfM_OfKz904U7aqiSK27Dg/s1600/card+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQvz0oRxOJV6JxymPOUmNP6LUAzZeJvKf7Yc3lrFE1PWMN4U7NgeCau8sDjtVXWSKzBrLxnP7Uf8Cv12lNDq93koQYa43wl75_vNGqLGk40a9Y90zeYBymukfM_OfKz904U7aqiSK27Dg/s640/card+1.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6qGCixdL4qDtvZ0BZWH3zpTfQGoyKgHrq3qdD0exMb243ZBnG0WKTs4uT3drFjcLV4u_rAjqUGSWTMwyBlRxfvYLwCt1iGGdAW_1ZL4VP7dMz7KrM5Qn9PqH2hlDbvmY-jqJMYfIZzqc/s1600/card+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6qGCixdL4qDtvZ0BZWH3zpTfQGoyKgHrq3qdD0exMb243ZBnG0WKTs4uT3drFjcLV4u_rAjqUGSWTMwyBlRxfvYLwCt1iGGdAW_1ZL4VP7dMz7KrM5Qn9PqH2hlDbvmY-jqJMYfIZzqc/s640/card+2.jpg" width="454" /></a></div><br />
Mission accomplished.<br />
<br />
</div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-57906776274944380792012-03-04T23:21:00.000-06:002012-03-04T23:21:53.998-06:00Asphalt? Nah, It's Nobody's Fault.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I like to make my own taco seasoning.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYpDoRki5sL8TzBwuhr3wiQPS6LrwUzvibOEbmQAvdPAmfibas0E0uRbbu_3Zm3TqBCBEiC-wFWpKMyn-Y7S-DdI0QuF_WyefKPRO6MmYoXyCVizPUaODC1CCpCcbPRiSMTvLnPHDIFdk/s1600/pepper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYpDoRki5sL8TzBwuhr3wiQPS6LrwUzvibOEbmQAvdPAmfibas0E0uRbbu_3Zm3TqBCBEiC-wFWpKMyn-Y7S-DdI0QuF_WyefKPRO6MmYoXyCVizPUaODC1CCpCcbPRiSMTvLnPHDIFdk/s640/pepper.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
As evidenced above, asphalt is a key ingredient.<br />
<br />
<i>Finely ground</i> asphalt.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLWs-LcjBuiZzt5H3TE18Miwn33dCG927n-7Ik8vDGFjl-qCip1Orl__91-cXqf18Q4_tjr-lJUh-Mb8HqgaaBzELmLD5RnRG8bXXP9l75wUAoxuDDqlwStBQR2NG1S9VN6-fOD9Hs3b8/s1600/salt+and+pepper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLWs-LcjBuiZzt5H3TE18Miwn33dCG927n-7Ik8vDGFjl-qCip1Orl__91-cXqf18Q4_tjr-lJUh-Mb8HqgaaBzELmLD5RnRG8bXXP9l75wUAoxuDDqlwStBQR2NG1S9VN6-fOD9Hs3b8/s640/salt+and+pepper.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
LIES!<br />
<br />
All lies.<br />
<br />
I really use good ol' fine-ground black pepper.<br />
<br />
OK.<br />
<br />
Good talk.<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-69552636425954519082012-02-23T23:27:00.000-06:002012-02-23T23:27:43.125-06:00Mad Max Rolling Pin<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYk7wnVqMfoxjW7buJ4OsZWIhkkH3IyhhBXhzm7z3ftriuvmUjJI5nacpvvV_QpRk46AX6OSoqjOYQ-UeUyVH0E7LLQ3QLXT5oVNYVZ-N7___rp4GmzWLoA3YpG74LX4i868S1J4CrbC0/s1600/mad+max+rolling+pin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYk7wnVqMfoxjW7buJ4OsZWIhkkH3IyhhBXhzm7z3ftriuvmUjJI5nacpvvV_QpRk46AX6OSoqjOYQ-UeUyVH0E7LLQ3QLXT5oVNYVZ-N7___rp4GmzWLoA3YpG74LX4i868S1J4CrbC0/s640/mad+max+rolling+pin.jpg" width="454" /></a></div><br />
<br />
</div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-50357123177162786732011-12-03T10:22:00.000-06:002011-12-03T10:22:13.037-06:00Clarification / Saturday, December 3<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">At the new job, I am the only female that spends any measurable amount of time in the building.<br />
<br />
<br />
Which made me think this sign on the bathroom door was overreaching.<br />
<div><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4CLTJXruHKr8H9THL1ZhgEA4FKdpogJxXxoa4YaPaOlLCDNuOlGZL5iFGOQ8-_KPkCXPCOACP4S-fL08R5PvpCu7IUxAtEodeDv72r0GUXOr7j-sagPrpFhCR77FZNEPqoaVWu24qsq4/s1600/women.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4CLTJXruHKr8H9THL1ZhgEA4FKdpogJxXxoa4YaPaOlLCDNuOlGZL5iFGOQ8-_KPkCXPCOACP4S-fL08R5PvpCu7IUxAtEodeDv72r0GUXOr7j-sagPrpFhCR77FZNEPqoaVWu24qsq4/s640/women.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Further, it was grammatically incorrect given the time spent in building ratio.<br />
<br />
Don't worry.<br />
<br />
I fixed it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipl_oiAMiKa_LxnrZEhzqd_NK7B1lmUeBJ9CNuDHkiePng-jY2RUUMaLljBDL8QOh1i67VmDGVoDZ1obekfaE0tGZ5GrbW0RVpDqauMwEo94G5EB_vlQj9JSpGcdCK_4VvTPFft6wMiwA/s1600/woman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipl_oiAMiKa_LxnrZEhzqd_NK7B1lmUeBJ9CNuDHkiePng-jY2RUUMaLljBDL8QOh1i67VmDGVoDZ1obekfaE0tGZ5GrbW0RVpDqauMwEo94G5EB_vlQj9JSpGcdCK_4VvTPFft6wMiwA/s640/woman.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<br />
There we go.<br />
<br />
All fixed.<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-32325737699069897412011-11-20T14:06:00.000-06:002011-11-20T14:06:30.071-06:00House Rules<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">As you may have noticed, since starting the new J-O-B, 365 isn't getting updated daily.<br />
<br />
That is to say, I'm not updating.<br />
<br />
It doesn't update on its own.<br />
<br />
'Like how I tried to make it seem like it's the blogs onus, not mine?<br />
<br />
OK, so here's the deal.<br />
<br />
I'm going to blog when I can.<br />
<br />
Which means 365 is more like 365 minus the days I don't blog.<br />
<br />
I'll let you do the math.<br />
<br />
This way, I won't be making up pretend pressure and you won't have high expectations.<br />
<br />
Then again, maybe your expectations weren't that high anyway.<br />
<br />
Good.<br />
<br />
We'll get along just fine.<br />
<br />
So?<br />
<br />
Bottom line.<br />
<br />
My blog.<br />
<br />
My rules.<br />
<br />
Which means I change 'em when I want to.<br />
<br />
Just like playing a board game with me, in my home.<br />
<br />
House rules, baby.</div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-12430016823867653122011-11-17T20:23:00.001-06:002011-11-17T20:24:15.524-06:00Katie / Thursday, November 17<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I fostered two little girls a few years ago.<br />
<br />
Bella and Katie.<br />
<br />
They're now in their "forever" home with a nice lady named Karen. (HI, KAREN!)<br />
<br />
I stumbled across this shot and fell in love with her Miss Katie's face all over again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim7fmMcZJg0qpEiEazxOpiHmXCk6Q0L1wehP_2d1nt0QGt2Q_L9ieGqFmAmKrO9cEt9hLvJzYZtHCubeJT6MKDdPtDBd_BTq1dqqOs2EofGDtwEs5rs2tFvesxhT4XI0NjEcu36zrbfVE/s1600/Katie_Covers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim7fmMcZJg0qpEiEazxOpiHmXCk6Q0L1wehP_2d1nt0QGt2Q_L9ieGqFmAmKrO9cEt9hLvJzYZtHCubeJT6MKDdPtDBd_BTq1dqqOs2EofGDtwEs5rs2tFvesxhT4XI0NjEcu36zrbfVE/s640/Katie_Covers.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Especially her perfect black eyeliner.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's so Cleopatra.</div><br />
<br />
</div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-70121565433158050572011-11-17T20:20:00.000-06:002011-11-17T20:20:53.983-06:00Nostalgia, Circa 2004 / Wednesday, November 16<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I found a stash of pictures I thought were lost forever. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As I was combing through, I found this one.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsWmEXpYz3Z5UZXJMhv50eQejqpg0LRC9o_4ruuI1mjzFMHhVBjnfLi5b7PqmmQRi4zvskoJM8EJxgr4aT3D903mjFApAUxggPifBjmwmLg5qMuL9ZyC8fCw7C333EGWKsFBt9h5vagi0/s1600/Mike+and+Jack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsWmEXpYz3Z5UZXJMhv50eQejqpg0LRC9o_4ruuI1mjzFMHhVBjnfLi5b7PqmmQRi4zvskoJM8EJxgr4aT3D903mjFApAUxggPifBjmwmLg5qMuL9ZyC8fCw7C333EGWKsFBt9h5vagi0/s640/Mike+and+Jack.jpg" width="456" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Jackson was Mike's first true love.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Mike often referred to Jack as his, "brother." </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Those two did <i>everything</i> together.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Of course, at his size (21lbs of hot, black, furry love) Jack would often have to nap. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This was his favorite place to do so. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now go on. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Find your snuggle-buddy. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>It's good for you.<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-57165852899044570322011-11-15T23:50:00.000-06:002011-11-15T23:50:03.668-06:00When Kitties Imitate Art / Tuesday, November 15<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkhfFCo4cQt7CwATmUDGFC-baasDNYiRwfnwM6G4MOaRAkrsIml4J_J5UvVO97PEbpJ26CKy6ZrrfqXRfGWYlvIG0-2O7SgEie-V0vum_UXOIJqeVESupBmoCj2bkqP2R1PrdZpDTxT8g/s1600/bad+diddy+art.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkhfFCo4cQt7CwATmUDGFC-baasDNYiRwfnwM6G4MOaRAkrsIml4J_J5UvVO97PEbpJ26CKy6ZrrfqXRfGWYlvIG0-2O7SgEie-V0vum_UXOIJqeVESupBmoCj2bkqP2R1PrdZpDTxT8g/s640/bad+diddy+art.jpg" width="456" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><span id="goog_2098319212"></span><span id="goog_2098319213"></span></div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-5538104235689534882011-11-14T20:14:00.000-06:002011-11-14T20:14:01.828-06:00Cheat-Worthy / Monday, November 14<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">My friend Sarah is a genius.<br />
<br />
And she's real purty, too.<br />
<br />
And that never hurt anything.<br />
<br />
Do I have a point here?<br />
<br />
Not really, other than to tell you what I think of Sarah.<br />
<br />
I lo-hove her.<br />
<br />
I also love her story about Mustachio.<br />
<br />
Which is why tonight I'm going to encourage you to go read the story here, <a href="http://sarahmccurdy.net/?p=1878" target="_blank">on her blog</a>.<br />
<br />
Because she's a genius.<br />
<br />
And real purty.<br />
<br />
And I lo-hove her.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>For a mustache picture you won't find here on the blog, like <a href="http://www.facebook.com/365snapshots" target="_blank">365 on Facebook</a>. </i></div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-59800730515287186642011-11-14T20:11:00.001-06:002011-11-14T20:11:01.242-06:00The Day I Didn't Take A Photo / Sunday, November 14<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><jazz hands><br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-40448127094991203832011-11-13T16:20:00.000-06:002011-11-13T16:20:59.516-06:00Signs / Saturday, November 12<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Rock 102. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Peace.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Twins.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQUs_Nj4BIBUGHfKX_SSwRTr8apeiQKS1W2xvJYZUnT66jNfHRB3boAStbWKHg3y3qU1tDBL79J94UNw1zO1Fqlo9apgDe_VD1bpCC2IBG1pKJbiwla6t6K1Ggi_IK1BehMU8GIsv1wio/s1600/Sams+car.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQUs_Nj4BIBUGHfKX_SSwRTr8apeiQKS1W2xvJYZUnT66jNfHRB3boAStbWKHg3y3qU1tDBL79J94UNw1zO1Fqlo9apgDe_VD1bpCC2IBG1pKJbiwla6t6K1Ggi_IK1BehMU8GIsv1wio/s640/Sams+car.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
I knew Sam and I would get along just fine.<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-30745972251109560802011-11-12T23:39:00.002-06:002011-11-12T23:48:39.859-06:00Smash Cake Baby / Friday, November 11<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">As you must know by now, I have one son.<br />
<br />
The Boy RD.<br />
<br />
His Majesty.<br />
<br />
Monkey Pants.<br />
<br />
Mike.<br />
<br />
My first and one true love, that boy is the center of my heart and universe.<br />
<br />
He is, however, tall.<br />
<br />
Too tall to snuggle.<br />
<br />
Too tall to fall asleep on my chest.<br />
<br />
Too tall to let me carry him around.<br />
<br />
One of my best friends, Crystal, was kind enough to have three little boys so that I can enjoy those things.<br />
<br />
Thoughtful, isn't she?<br />
<br />
The littlest one is my Godson.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_FpGYmDiGIA_pn9e6pXLt8hI2LMeRItd9JXLddFyk1gL-TP6IDOjzuYSgCbBszj0oNfU-3r_tWuVpP8PiOVYkOsPhDVP09UZD7C4knbw0TxK3xnhJIixYzgCtqSjjvVIGaB6spfeNm54/s1600/IMG_4575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_FpGYmDiGIA_pn9e6pXLt8hI2LMeRItd9JXLddFyk1gL-TP6IDOjzuYSgCbBszj0oNfU-3r_tWuVpP8PiOVYkOsPhDVP09UZD7C4knbw0TxK3xnhJIixYzgCtqSjjvVIGaB6spfeNm54/s640/IMG_4575.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><br />
And his first birthday was Thursday.<br />
<br />
And his Mama made him a smash cake.<br />
<br />
Because she is a GENIUS.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN61cgSJN5aWzGmx4aJhqngnNpnxGZ1MWjUzHeVYavsYZLRs4Kz37JeIhA72rJbzgjuKGdnUIeckgVCDuz7ylucBICBifYRZQf-f0aiBPxpP0SDX3KBM6oAIKJEKt2ainxnsjDFuwUbN0/s1600/IMG_4540.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN61cgSJN5aWzGmx4aJhqngnNpnxGZ1MWjUzHeVYavsYZLRs4Kz37JeIhA72rJbzgjuKGdnUIeckgVCDuz7ylucBICBifYRZQf-f0aiBPxpP0SDX3KBM6oAIKJEKt2ainxnsjDFuwUbN0/s640/IMG_4540.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
We tried and tried to get a shot of Mom, Dad & Brandt all looking at the camera.<br />
<br />
It sounded like a nice idea.<br />
<br />
Good thing Dad was paying attention.<br />
<br />
It never quite worked though.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuwj8a1L__eqEMSlQObGZxx_9KrAjvgtaHj5iQ_mIMg8BTyorPB8hL4f3xLS047I6SG2JsGaU8orzRoG5Cvd5P8a6K6urxNc1yar0HLMQHxBq3yx1H6DUcJqNVbeGv4V3s5UTS8_FLqdQ/s1600/IMG_4555.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuwj8a1L__eqEMSlQObGZxx_9KrAjvgtaHj5iQ_mIMg8BTyorPB8hL4f3xLS047I6SG2JsGaU8orzRoG5Cvd5P8a6K6urxNc1yar0HLMQHxBq3yx1H6DUcJqNVbeGv4V3s5UTS8_FLqdQ/s640/IMG_4555.JPG" width="425" /></a></div><br />
Which was a good thing.<br />
<br />
The shot just before this was both Mom & Dad looking up.<br />
<br />
Brandt, however, was tipping the plate onto the floor.<br />
<br />
That would be Megan's hand saving the plate's life. (HI, MEGAN!)<br />
<br />
With Mom and Dad cleaning up the carnage, Gavin and Nolan took a moment to taste-test <i>all</i> of the frosting colors. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggpHKyZZSYEPFtLj3myA90YG0RYB_5X_R11o7w6be51lyb4Bn35j9pDxzv_heqZ6AR61RUGRsJojddAETIUZPnAW04LtZBgA-Qjv0bQiaxodwxb7ImfS9R7307fpQ-rHSNVBC4M1DJW8c/s1600/IMG_4561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggpHKyZZSYEPFtLj3myA90YG0RYB_5X_R11o7w6be51lyb4Bn35j9pDxzv_heqZ6AR61RUGRsJojddAETIUZPnAW04LtZBgA-Qjv0bQiaxodwxb7ImfS9R7307fpQ-rHSNVBC4M1DJW8c/s640/IMG_4561.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Naturally, there was present opening.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQWy-tMemi3dx1QfwyAXcScjhlGJUAJL4NYPM1CqD7hIqsK-MZ99C5jGuLdNSTi3rMels8iXFRtcFQAkpB7F5r5jJOycfGsXwbi-4lS5eGTHnmRxdjNFz2nH1BtqfkZ0sKPgX6DWf6JM/s1600/IMG_4573.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQWy-tMemi3dx1QfwyAXcScjhlGJUAJL4NYPM1CqD7hIqsK-MZ99C5jGuLdNSTi3rMels8iXFRtcFQAkpB7F5r5jJOycfGsXwbi-4lS5eGTHnmRxdjNFz2nH1BtqfkZ0sKPgX6DWf6JM/s640/IMG_4573.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">He was pretty excited about the wrapping paper.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is when I scooped him up and ate him. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The end. </div><br />
<i>Be sure to like <a href="http://www.facebook.com/365snapshots" target="_blank">365 on Facebook</a> to get exclusive photos and content!</i></div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166249660012836857.post-29915720172106506972011-11-11T23:30:00.000-06:002011-11-11T23:30:36.568-06:00Locked Out / Thursday, November 10<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In case you've not heard, I got a job, man. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Part-time office manager in the commercial cleaning industry. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Note the use of the word of "industry." </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's key. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I pulled into work on this particular morning, parked and made my way to the front door.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Locked.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Oh boy. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm so new, I didn't even have a key. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I did, however, have my camera. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The morning looked like this. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgULbRcUxU6TfMN_2Sp5_5znj7S3BLCuo9c4s1EO7raHYJNP2asI5H6NKTNOyKrbk79FA8BZ4oF4wbslSiNAgn9ZWMUfZkXi3PKSDJtDr7HHVOh-5v_NAyt6kpuiWyXoey1EfHamc57q_M/s1600/early+winter+morning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgULbRcUxU6TfMN_2Sp5_5znj7S3BLCuo9c4s1EO7raHYJNP2asI5H6NKTNOyKrbk79FA8BZ4oF4wbslSiNAgn9ZWMUfZkXi3PKSDJtDr7HHVOh-5v_NAyt6kpuiWyXoey1EfHamc57q_M/s640/early+winter+morning.jpg" width="425" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It felt pretty freakin' cold, though.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Like 30˚ freakin' cold. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now, at this point, you're probably assuming I had on a coat and gloves. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I did not. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I don't do that sort of thing until -30˚. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You know why?</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Because I'm from North Dakota, donchya know. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Believe you me, 30˚ above feels delightful. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
Brisk, even. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And in 30˚ above, I noticed there's still some green in the grass. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLWpf5MAqN8l7cFv39WTYel24viqyHX7Wic4BPYEqyecW_iZ1VTiGFvGHyr-5unuCvYc4lYP6PPiMoafdXshOgPCsHp4CAFUqJ1NIgwQSYrAB3Hk2JPZPKalwr8a0IA9tsLjbAdI6DJgE/s1600/green+grass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLWpf5MAqN8l7cFv39WTYel24viqyHX7Wic4BPYEqyecW_iZ1VTiGFvGHyr-5unuCvYc4lYP6PPiMoafdXshOgPCsHp4CAFUqJ1NIgwQSYrAB3Hk2JPZPKalwr8a0IA9tsLjbAdI6DJgE/s640/green+grass.jpg" width="451" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So now you're wondering why I didn't just get back in my nice, warm vehicle. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That would be because for the first time in a week, I really took a look around. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In an industrial park. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There was texture and interesting stuff everywhere. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In discarded carpet pads, for example. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXRm6B04VmVBjfFbeAyYk8RyuyZym8htb1ljOFwkIfBbD-i0SJrG80G6RFhxYFHv2Zd4qNX8zzMMhsf1hsT9qmQCyoxSCGwNWFQM1WCvLKHNSbFkibJrcRqe2mYzWFRCkqVoZI9qHipVI/s1600/carpet+pad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXRm6B04VmVBjfFbeAyYk8RyuyZym8htb1ljOFwkIfBbD-i0SJrG80G6RFhxYFHv2Zd4qNX8zzMMhsf1hsT9qmQCyoxSCGwNWFQM1WCvLKHNSbFkibJrcRqe2mYzWFRCkqVoZI9qHipVI/s640/carpet+pad.jpg" width="425" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> Or haphazardly strewn hose.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyXPQ32yxhAL99LXNYQc9T2B-7KuXsF-Sy1I_5fMP73ednu2WjjyEsarxdjI8KTVDhgE_G6xt5USIRbRHO98GutTQjT9l2oq-ZAGrVjbRl7PWl4IAt9iDcpy7Kj2WX5gKSxrPFKZsBZiI/s1600/hose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyXPQ32yxhAL99LXNYQc9T2B-7KuXsF-Sy1I_5fMP73ednu2WjjyEsarxdjI8KTVDhgE_G6xt5USIRbRHO98GutTQjT9l2oq-ZAGrVjbRl7PWl4IAt9iDcpy7Kj2WX5gKSxrPFKZsBZiI/s640/hose.jpg" width="454" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Full disclosure: that hose is not ours.<br />
<br />
Sam (HI, SAM!) would probably have a stroke if he saw hose or extension cords improperly coiled. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Don't worry, I'd visit him in the hospital. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Mostly because he brings me doughnuts. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'd have to make sure the goodwill kept up while he was out sick. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm not sure why that got so dark so fast.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Must be daylight savings.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hey!<br />
<br />
Look at that rust. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho5ShcZ4BVXC3PZdPrfUQPXJ-KsYqicA89IbJqiKuIfrALR5jpixzwXbL7FYTL44u8N5Jx0hbe47TFqcKJP0cM08sl1ZjJnLyMz5nnVUxzQdNjxLyo0jHWXMZttMySqfP3eS5ye9sczQc/s1600/rusty+trailer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho5ShcZ4BVXC3PZdPrfUQPXJ-KsYqicA89IbJqiKuIfrALR5jpixzwXbL7FYTL44u8N5Jx0hbe47TFqcKJP0cM08sl1ZjJnLyMz5nnVUxzQdNjxLyo0jHWXMZttMySqfP3eS5ye9sczQc/s640/rusty+trailer.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both;">Is it a pallet, or an outdoor bookshelf? </div><div class="" style="clear: both;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgExuiZxoKga7o9I8ynA8wbFzFcsuL0W6zSapGI95FRDWQSNwftrPJ0w72dL4qCsG26RZOddK4t5W8a726z2jw8lI5OPITu_HwBCCyxTfxZ1nmfc0PMJz8ve-a4yrM0grg2rvQ4G3sSjRw/s1600/pallet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgExuiZxoKga7o9I8ynA8wbFzFcsuL0W6zSapGI95FRDWQSNwftrPJ0w72dL4qCsG26RZOddK4t5W8a726z2jw8lI5OPITu_HwBCCyxTfxZ1nmfc0PMJz8ve-a4yrM0grg2rvQ4G3sSjRw/s640/pallet.jpg" width="422" /></a></div><br />
I played "walk the plank" while I waited.<br />
<br />
Folks?<br />
<br />
Meet Plank.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYJGKjB5ksiLq1xFjdRNJ2dCnUygKyZeuBXo23LrasDhhY4IItSNKpmnp_qULTMlX2rq8OBvTsp2mxX5DA6RdeuOH62bl5_O2JHSolDEB3gNxN9HJwz8b2Js3LBZnwOIQsRKQW0N33nLI/s1600/wooden+curb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYJGKjB5ksiLq1xFjdRNJ2dCnUygKyZeuBXo23LrasDhhY4IItSNKpmnp_qULTMlX2rq8OBvTsp2mxX5DA6RdeuOH62bl5_O2JHSolDEB3gNxN9HJwz8b2Js3LBZnwOIQsRKQW0N33nLI/s640/wooden+curb.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">(Points if you get the "Plank" reference.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Pole dancing, anyone?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdfPaHpQaDPB3dwDh8B4USaw55hr7-nIojlBRndepOM_StKGXdfhZ0JcO1begI2OEb7IlkuatGwDmrrMECEGBbsuM0Z7y7DKwtcgUq1UIj5tVMNPRr8X-YFpwD1KBirBh8Q05Ww4iW02A/s1600/yellow+pole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdfPaHpQaDPB3dwDh8B4USaw55hr7-nIojlBRndepOM_StKGXdfhZ0JcO1begI2OEb7IlkuatGwDmrrMECEGBbsuM0Z7y7DKwtcgUq1UIj5tVMNPRr8X-YFpwD1KBirBh8Q05Ww4iW02A/s640/yellow+pole.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Just when I was considering taking a spin, Justin showed up. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><span id="goog_563431782"></span><span id="goog_563431783"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxmpuSZpaLLbn6WKzITY94sCfbCTaFrlIhGpACzcqFwOdKLa4Tf8gkuuzCM_LHPfxxmJbovkFg9sGJDtzzWtzgzpLORYbpad6da832fwVMcF6CYvxcFrOfb47SGJWAX5oEkudN6LBVxug/s1600/Justin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxmpuSZpaLLbn6WKzITY94sCfbCTaFrlIhGpACzcqFwOdKLa4Tf8gkuuzCM_LHPfxxmJbovkFg9sGJDtzzWtzgzpLORYbpad6da832fwVMcF6CYvxcFrOfb47SGJWAX5oEkudN6LBVxug/s640/Justin.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">(HI, JUSTIN!)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Guess what? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next day, I got a key. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div>Laura Eglandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16382577475363417305noreply@blogger.com0