tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-337682452024-03-12T21:16:54.857-05:00Heidi's Notes from VermontHeidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.comBlogger262125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-56253563819474870792012-08-04T01:03:00.000-05:002012-08-04T01:03:14.666-05:00Saturday Sounds 26 or High School DanceI heard this band on the radio tonight on two different stations. I remember dancing to this song at my first high school dance,which was held in the stifling, every surface layered with years of stagnant hormones, high school gym. It was 1982 and I was in ninth grade.<br />
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I wonder what songs my daughter will dance to this year and will they still be played on the radio in 20 years?<br />
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What songs do you remember from high school?<br />
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<br />Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-65494604132655489882012-07-31T22:00:00.000-05:002012-07-31T22:39:14.884-05:00Lochte WannabeeShe spreads her legs for anybody, but Willow is just looking for a belly rub, at least that's what I think. She might also be a whore.<br />
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Either way, she's still the best dog ever!<br />
<br />
In the past, I never understood why people made such a fuss over dogs. I always thought they were smelly and annoying and even though Willow is both, I get it now.<br />
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She's so loving and smart and will do anything for attention. She learns tricks/commands fairly easily with positive reinforcement and of course treats. This summer we decided to see if she could swim. Well, of course she can. And she loves it. The first few times someone had to <strike>push</strike> gently assist her into the pool, but now she jumps in and out all by herself. She even uses the ladder. Not once has she tried to get out without it. She swims around and around in circles and brings herself back to the ladder, only to push herself off again. She's like an Olympian dog.<br />
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Look at Lochte, I mean Lipka go...<br />
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That's for gold, baby!Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-57808187730334282982012-07-28T00:33:00.000-05:002012-07-28T00:35:11.566-05:00Saturday Sounds 25 or A Sign?I was driving home from work one night around midnight and I was obsessing about-big surprise- my search for my birth parents. Specifically I was wondering if my mother was dead. I know, I'm morbid sometimes.<br />
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This song came on and I was singing along to it even though I don't remember ever hearing it before that night, and, well, a rabbit ran across the road in front of my car. <br />
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Really, as I was singing "like a rabbit in your headlights" a rabbit was in my headlights. I slammed on my brakes and thought, what the hell does that mean? There's a lot of rabbits in Vermont? Yes.(I've witnessed many suicides.) (Fortunately, that night I was able to stop in time.) Nothing? Probably. Or does it mean something more? When I was younger I definitely would have thought it was something more. But as I get older I get more skeptical about all "that"stuff.<br />
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Either way I like the song.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/FcE9O2otHxs" width="560"></iframe>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com62tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-53840798427279389932012-07-26T14:36:00.002-05:002012-07-26T14:36:47.250-05:00So Why am I so Damn Short?The social worker told me my file is the smallest she's ever seen. It contains mostly information on my adoptive parents, very little on my birth parents. Even less is the information she can legally give me.<br />
<br />
So after 5 years of on and off active searching for my bio family, I finally have a small, very small bit of non-identifying information about my birth parents. In the letter from the social worker...<br />
<br />
"Your birth mother was twenty-two years old. She stood five feet, six inches tall and weighed one hundred twenty-three pounds, with fair skin, brown hair and brown eyes. She was a college graduate who had majored in science. Your birth father was also twenty-two years old. He stood five feet, ten inches tall with a medium frame, and had light brown hair, brown eyes, and a medium complexion. He had graduated from college with a major in business administration."<br />
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Science? Really? I majored in art, psychology and then nursing and my hobbies are crafting and writing. Also, I always thought at least one of my parents would be short. Most likely I have a tall skinny sister. Bitch. (It doesn't say, but I bet her hair is straight too!)<br />
There is some good news. The social worker told me that my birth mothers name is in my file. She said "you don't know how bad I wish I could tell it to you." At least now I know continuing to pursue the opening of my sealed record will lead me to a name.<br />
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What I plan on doing next is searching lists of college alumni with science majors in 1966-68. A needle in a haystack? Probably. But how many women could there have been in the 60's majoring in science? Also,there is a college near where I was born that has a big science school. Rennselaer Polytechnic Institute or RPI. I've tried to find lists online of alumni, but you have to be an alumnus of the school to search. I plan on calling the school to see if there are lists the public can view.<br />
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I'm also going to re-petition the court (first petition denied) for a different reason than the first and have my adoptive parents petition too. If these fail then I'm going to hire an attorney recommended by the Mass Department of Children and Families to help me.<br />
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Any suggestions? Anyone know an RPI alumnus?Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-55621562201194613792012-05-09T13:55:00.001-05:002012-05-09T13:58:51.034-05:00Ahh, RomanceEvery once in a while I read or hear something that's so romantic I wonder what it would be like if my husband spoke or sang words like that to me. <br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">For example, what if Hus said this to me...</span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">**"Sometimes I have the strangest feeling about you. Especially when you are near me as you are now. It feels as though I had a string tied here under my left rib where my heart is, tightly knotted to you in a similar fashion. And when you go to </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Irel</span>and, with all that distance between us, I am afraid that this cord will be snapped, and I shall bleed inwardly."**Edward Rochester</b><br />
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Instead of this...<br />
<b>"Before you leave for New Jersey, don't forget to get that tick off Summer (cat)." Hus</b><br />
<br />
Or this...<br />
<b>**"...My nightmares are usually about losing you...I'm okay once I realize you're here."**Peeta Mellark</b><br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Instead of this...</span><br />
<b style="font-family: inherit;">"I had nightmares last night, must have been the spicy chicken wings."Hus</b><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Or this...</span><br />
<b style="font-family: inherit;">**"I have died everyday waiting for you. Darlin' don't be afraid. I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more."**Christina Perri</b><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Instead of this...</span><br />
<b style="font-family: inherit;">"Wow! We've been married how long? Man, that's a really long time." Hus</b><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This...</span><br />
<b>**"When I asked my da how ye knew which was the right woman, he told me when the time came, I'd have no doubt. And I didn't. When I woke in the dark under that tree on the road to Leoch, with you sitting on my chest, cursing me for bleeding to death, I said to myself 'Jamie Fraser', for all ye canna see what she looks like, and for all she weighs as much as a good draft horse, this is the woman.'"***James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser</b><br />
<br />
Instead of...<br />
<b>"I was watching you from across the bar and my friend said "Dude, check her out, she's hot." So I ditched the girl I was with so I could be with you."Hus</b><br />
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This...<br />
<b>**"We could do it you know...Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it...If we didn't have so many kids."** Gale Hawthorne</b><br />
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Or...<br />
<b>"Want to go for a ride around the swamp in my truck like we used to when we first started dating?"Hus</b><br />
<span style="color: #110000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #110000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;">Don't get me wrong, my Hus is very sweet and loving. He tells me he loves me everyday. I</span><span style="color: #110000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;">f he suddenly started speaking in romantic verse, I'd think he lost his mind. (Or was trying to get me into bed.)(Heh heh)</span><br />
<span style="color: #110000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #110000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;">Just one more from the oh so sweet Peeta...</span></div>
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<i style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">"I just want to spend every possible minute of the rest of my life with you," </b></i></div>
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<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-58939608133344833532012-04-08T23:59:00.002-05:002012-04-09T14:31:37.876-05:00Willow<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Because I'm always really busy and tired, I thought it would be great to get a puppy.<br />
So, one night after drinking a lot of wine I Googled for puppies and spontaneously filled out an application to adopt one.<br />
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Within two weeks gorgeous 8 week old Sheltie/Australian Shepherd mix puppies became available to adopt. Being that I have never had a dog before, I did a bit of research and discovered that these two breeds are very smart and usually make good pets. We chose one of the females and named her Willow. We have been very lucky with Willow in that she is extremely smart and also very loving. I never would have guessed I could love a dog so much.<br />
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Em with Willow shortly after bringing her home last August...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gNKbNvPoEkM/TnDK56y7lYI/AAAAAAAABRY/FM_3ZdCsbP4/s1600/emfb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="283" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gNKbNvPoEkM/TnDK56y7lYI/AAAAAAAABRY/FM_3ZdCsbP4/s320/emfb.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Tony and Willow...<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lwAAQxHiMVk/TnDLKWTk7-I/AAAAAAAABRc/CWswsgSjP1M/s1600/Tonyluva.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lwAAQxHiMVk/TnDLKWTk7-I/AAAAAAAABRc/CWswsgSjP1M/s320/Tonyluva.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Because a dog must be tortured with hair accessories... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mIKTOJLiqbU/TnDLcXIachI/AAAAAAAABRg/apcFvNItslM/s1600/willowprettybow.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mIKTOJLiqbU/TnDLcXIachI/AAAAAAAABRg/apcFvNItslM/s320/willowprettybow.JPG" width="241" /></a></div><br />
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Will loves Summer...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EAjNv4Dq9a4/TnDLhDHCxeI/AAAAAAAABRk/yV-jNX2p0iQ/s1600/puppyHug.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EAjNv4Dq9a4/TnDLhDHCxeI/AAAAAAAABRk/yV-jNX2p0iQ/s320/puppyHug.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Wondering if those mushrooms are edible...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nx5Vcp67eQY/TnDLo0DvjZI/AAAAAAAABRo/srpgauauC0Q/s1600/shrooms.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nx5Vcp67eQY/TnDLo0DvjZI/AAAAAAAABRo/srpgauauC0Q/s320/shrooms.JPG" width="250" /></a></div><br />
Did I say gorgeous...<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xV0YHjhajnk/TnDMG_epVqI/AAAAAAAABR0/ZVFbawcDjbM/s1600/WillowEyes.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xV0YHjhajnk/TnDMG_epVqI/AAAAAAAABR0/ZVFbawcDjbM/s320/WillowEyes.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i25w2tDzjM0/TnDMNjItxmI/AAAAAAAABR4/gi3XO22zL2U/s1600/prettyprofile.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i25w2tDzjM0/TnDMNjItxmI/AAAAAAAABR4/gi3XO22zL2U/s320/prettyprofile.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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And also gorgeous...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Will won't mind sharing her bed...<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rMMUbKHo7Oo/TnDLtwSQ2EI/AAAAAAAABRs/Nm0lVbq0qVU/s1600/summerlikesbed.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rMMUbKHo7Oo/TnDLtwSQ2EI/AAAAAAAABRs/Nm0lVbq0qVU/s320/summerlikesbed.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uu_iTRXELYw/TnDM1DwbJzI/AAAAAAAABSE/gCbE7_hpGu8/s1600/nappy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uu_iTRXELYw/TnDM1DwbJzI/AAAAAAAABSE/gCbE7_hpGu8/s320/nappy.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Sweet dreams Willow.<br />
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And just last week, still gorgeous...<br />
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Dear Mr. Postman, AKA Mr. Postal Worker, AKA Jack,<br />
<br />
I'm writing you this letter for a few different reasons. First I want to express my thanks for all your hard work. You really do work through all sorts of bad weather conditions, faithfully delivering my precious <strike>snail</strike> paper mail everyday, except Sunday and federal holidays, of which there are many. Not that you don't deserve all these days off, you do.<br />
<br />
I also want you to know I hope that the proposed cuts in jobs and pay for postal workers doesn't happen. I really don't think you make too much money and I wish I could have Sundays and any holiday off too.<br />
<br />
But the main reason I'm writing you is because I want you to know that I am expecting a very important letter. This letter has the potential to change my life.<br />
<br />
On December 2nd I mailed a petition to the court in Massachusetts where my final adoption took place requesting the opening of my sealed adoption record. If granted, it should give me access to my original birth certificate. There are so many reasons, reasons I've written about in my blog, I need/want my original birth certificate and feel it should be my human right to have it. It's up to a judge now whether I will be granted this request and expect the decision to be mailed to me when it's reached.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, December is not a great time to expect mail. With all the holidays and such. There are also a lot of holidays in January and February too. I did call the court to make sure they received the petition and they did, but apparently courts also get federal holidays off.<br />
<br />
So I check my mail box everyday, including Sundays and holidays (because mail might have stuck to the top of the inside of my mailbox on Saturday) for the reply from the judge.<br />
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Well, thanks again for all of your hard work. Email is faster, but at least you don't deliver any daemons to me. However, if you could also not leave me Christian mail I would appreciated it. I know they are just worried about my soul, but since I am Jewish, there's really no worries.<br />
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Sincerely,<br />
Heidi (AKA the lady with the cute dog who would never bite you)<br />
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Addendum: I might bite the postman but my sweet dog never would...see comments!Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-47225344970802594242011-09-09T16:00:00.000-05:002011-09-09T15:24:18.875-05:00Summer's Over, DarnWe did have a lot of fun though.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Jumping in the pool!<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-usml9pEH2KA/TjLlAFGjHlI/AAAAAAAABP8/GX1zx3A8I9Y/s1600/jump.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-usml9pEH2KA/TjLlAFGjHlI/AAAAAAAABP8/GX1zx3A8I9Y/s320/jump.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634817873326317138" border="0" /></a>Performing water ballet!<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3Wgbc4jc1dI/TjLj8XZYxXI/AAAAAAAABP0/QYP4rIzD14o/s1600/waterbal.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3Wgbc4jc1dI/TjLj8XZYxXI/AAAAAAAABP0/QYP4rIzD14o/s320/waterbal.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634816710006064498" border="0" /></a>Jumping at the Jersey Shore!<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ftT2GqDcsc4/TjLj8DzqxiI/AAAAAAAABPs/mJxCoXtt6Xk/s1600/beachjump.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ftT2GqDcsc4/TjLj8DzqxiI/AAAAAAAABPs/mJxCoXtt6Xk/s320/beachjump.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634816704747587106" border="0" /></a>Playing in the sand at the Jersey Shore.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1JqCsKpFDno/TjLjUoYBM3I/AAAAAAAABPk/JjO15ZxssX8/s1600/sandcastle.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1JqCsKpFDno/TjLjUoYBM3I/AAAAAAAABPk/JjO15ZxssX8/s320/sandcastle.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634816027368960882" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Growing beautiful flowers.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5sBSj3-_k00/TjLjUaQ4mCI/AAAAAAAABPc/f9nVL9VzWVI/s1600/rublily.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 273px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5sBSj3-_k00/TjLjUaQ4mCI/AAAAAAAABPc/f9nVL9VzWVI/s320/rublily.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634816023580940322" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Starting to build a greenhouse.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C6EM8eOSc48/TjLi8JrcbzI/AAAAAAAABPU/jHKshZHvx38/s1600/greenhs.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C6EM8eOSc48/TjLi8JrcbzI/AAAAAAAABPU/jHKshZHvx38/s320/greenhs.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634815606812077874" border="0" /></a>Making flower arrangements.<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i5PqqOSXVxc/TjLi78Rnq7I/AAAAAAAABPM/oNWeE1wL4e8/s1600/vaseflowers.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i5PqqOSXVxc/TjLi78Rnq7I/AAAAAAAABPM/oNWeE1wL4e8/s320/vaseflowers.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634815603214101426" border="0" /></a><br />I wish Summer wasn't over; I had a lot of fun with the family. However, I'm really glad school has started.Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-38131490306847530342011-05-10T19:00:00.001-05:002011-05-10T19:53:23.169-05:0043 Year Old Vermont Woman Arrested for Attempted Breaking and Entering into the NYS Vital Records Office...Police Beat_<br /><br />Albany County NY_<br /><br />Heidi L., a 43 year old Vermont woman was arrested Monday for attempted breaking and entering into the New York State Vital Records Office, located at 800 North Pearl Street, Menands, NY.<br /><br />The woman was allegedly trying to obtain a copy of her own original birth certificate.<br /><br />Her efforts were thwarted by a passerby, who becoming mildly alarmed, shouted "Damn, woman, what's wrong with you? You'll never bust into that building with just a JC Penney Platinum credit card.!"<br /><br />To which, according to the eyewitness, the woman started crying and mumbling something about, not having an "original birth certificate" and not knowing who she is!<br /><br />The witness, fearing this woman might be insane, called the police and reported what was happening. He then handed the woman a paper bag containing a half drunk bottle of Mad Dog 20/20, stating "you look like you could use a drink." then fled the scene before police arrive.<br /><br />Later, a photo sent anonymously was tagged to the local police departments Facebook page.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gR-e60Rht-g/TcnbIUZ8UQI/AAAAAAAABPA/QehCKEP3frk/s1600/criminalmom.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 181px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gR-e60Rht-g/TcnbIUZ8UQI/AAAAAAAABPA/QehCKEP3frk/s200/criminalmom.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605252147202248962" border="0" /></a><br />Heidi L. was arraigned in Menands Village Court and released after paying a $30 fine, coincidentally the same amount it would cost for her to get a copy of her birth certificate, if it was in fact available to her.<br /><br />******************************************************<br />For those of you that don't know me, I'M KIDDING! For those of you that do know me, you know I've seriously contemplated this course of action!<br />******************************************************<br />Click on the label "adoption" below to read more about my search for my birth family.<br />******************************************************<br />I recently joined the online support group <a href="http://groups.yahoo.com/group/nyadoptees/">NY Adoptees</a>. If you were born/adopted in NY or know someone who is adopted, please join.Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-13590018453303160872011-04-03T20:36:00.002-05:002011-04-03T20:52:42.416-05:00Are You My Mama?I called the PI, twice. Finally she got back to me via email. She claims that my case is still open and they are still searching for my biological family. The problem they are having is that my information states that I was born in one state, New York, and was adopted in another, Massachusetts.<br /><br />Neither state is willing to give me even my non-identifying information. Which they both would give, if I had been born and adopted in one of those states. But not both!<br /><br />I already knew this. I was denied the ability to even register as an adoptee in these states which means any bio family would be denied also. But I've already written about this issue in past posts.<br /><br />Still frustrated and annoyed.<br /><br />So tonight I'm going to start searching online for a new PI. Then tomorrow I'm going to call some and see if I can't find any with the ability or experience, to break through these barriers.<br /><br />The only good thing about the PI I have now, is that I haven't had to pay anything. I have a set fee contracted to pay only when they find someone living in my bio family. Name, address, phone number.<br /><br />Again, any suggestions?Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-68876829652131348482011-03-24T13:00:00.001-05:002011-03-24T13:50:23.025-05:00Who Do You Think I Am?I've never watched the show Who Do You Think You Are. I am unable to not get upset, even during commercials for those types of TV shows. It's not like they are doing anything extraordinary. The actors know who they are, they know their names and their parents names, things every human being has a right to know.<br /><br />I just want to know my name.<br /><br />I try not to be bitter or angry about famous people getting free -and of course themselves being paid-help finding their ancestry. That's just life, and sometimes life isn't fair.<br /><br />Yes, my search for my biological family is still the one thing that makes me feel sorry for myself. It's the one thing that can cause me to cry spontaneously.<br /><br />I don't want people to feel sorry for me, I just want help. Because of the unusual details of my adoption, I don't even know how to continue with my search. The usual paths don't seem to apply to me.<br /><br />But I've decided to try and take a more active part in my search. So for my next blog posts, I'm going to write about at least one thing I've done to search.<br /><br />Any suggestions will be appreciated.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">*************************************</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Today</span> I called the PI I hired 2 years ago. In the beginning, I would email her every week, then every month, then a year went by, nothing. I emailed her about six months ago and she did say not to give up, that my case was taking longer than usual..<br /><br />So now it's been over 2 years and I decided to call instead of email. I reached the founder of the PI agency, told her my name and asked if she was still working on my case. She told me that she was not in the office, but would get back to me tonight after 4. Sure.<br /><br />I'm going to try and not cry.<br /><br />I'll update as soon as she calls me back.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">************************************</span><br />If you want to find out more about my adoption search story, click on the label 'Adoption' below.Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-6241648687376089002011-02-14T07:00:00.002-05:002011-02-14T07:00:26.807-05:00At Least Someone is Having Fun this WinterI can't wait for Winter to be over! Hopefully Spring will bring me some much needed energy and enthusiasm to write.<br /><br />At least Tony has been having a blast, at least a daily, tubing on our land.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">From the top...</span><br /><br /><object style="height: 390px; width: 640px;"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kp5ICDAh8zk?version=3"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kp5ICDAh8zk?version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="640" height="390"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">From the bottom...</span><br /><br /><object style="height: 390px; width: 640px;"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/twIJ_J2n3j8?version=3"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/twIJ_J2n3j8?version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="640" height="390"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />Happy Valentine's Day, Lovers!Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-552282264351108822011-01-18T13:26:00.003-05:002011-01-18T13:58:49.019-05:00The 12 Days of Hus's Unemployment<span style="font-weight: bold;">Sung to the tune of The 12 Days of Christmas</span><br /><br /><br />On the first day of unemployment, my husband gave to me...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">dust free wood stove mantle.</span><br /><br />On the second day of unemployment, my husband gave to me...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Two batches no-bakes,</span><br />and A dust free wood stove mantle.<br /><br />On the third day of unemployment, my husband gave to me...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Three french loaves,</span><br />Two batches no-bakes,<br />and A dust free wood stove mantle.<br /><br />On the fourth day of unemployment, my husband gave to me...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Four calling friends,</span><br />Three french loaves,<br />Two batches no-bakes,<br /> and A dust free wood stove mantle.<br /><br />On the fifth day of unemployment, my husband gave to me...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Five</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">more coo-ookiiiieeeees!</span><br />Four calling friends,<br />Three french loaves,<br /> Two batches no-bakes,<br /> and A dust free wood stove mantle.<br /><br />On the sixth day of unemployment, my husband gave to me...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Six</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">clean basement shelves,</span><br />Five more coo-ookiiiieeeees!<br />Four calling friends,<br /> Three french loaves,<br /> Two batches no-bakes,<br /> and A dust free wood stove mantle.<br /><br />On the seventh day of unemployment, my husband gave to me...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Seven</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">shoveled pathways,</span><br />Six clean basement shelves,<br />Five more coo-ookiiiieeeees!<br /> Four calling friends,<br /> Three french loaves,<br /> Two batches no-bakes,<br /> and A dust free wood stove mantle.<br /><br />On the eighth day of unemployment, my husband gave to me...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Eight</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">oatmeal cookies,</span><br />Seven shoveled pathways,<br />Six clean basement shelves,<br /> Five more coo-ookiiiieeeees!<br /> Four calling friends,<br /> Three french loaves,<br /> Two batches no-bakes,<br /> and A dust free wood stove mantle.<br /><br />On the ninth day of unemployment, my husband gave to me...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nine</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">bowls chicken soup,</span><br />Eight oatmeal cookies,<br />Seven shoveled pathways,<br /> Six clean basement shelves,<br /> Five more coo-ookiiiieeeees!<br /> Four calling friends,<br /> Three french loaves,<br /> Two batches of no-bakes,<br /> and A dust free wood burning stove mantle.<br /><br />On the tenth day of unemployment, my husband gave to me...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ten loads of laundry,</span><br />Nine bowls chicken soup,<br />Eight oatmeal cookies,<br />Seven shoveled pathways,<br /> Six clean basement shelves,<br /> Five more coo-ookiiiieeeees!<br /> Four calling friends,<br /> Three french loaves,<br /> Two batches of no-bakes,<br /> and A dust free wood burning stove mantle.<br /> <br />On the eleventh day of unemployment, my husband gave to me...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Eleven</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">meatballs cooking,</span><br />Ten loads of laundry,<br />Nine bowls chicken soup,<br /> Eight oatmeal cookies,<br /> Seven shoveled pathways,<br /> Six clean basement shelves,<br /> Five more coo-ookiiiieeeees!<br /> Four calling friends,<br /> Three french loaves,<br /> Two batches of no-bakes,<br /> and A dust free wood burning stove mantle.<br /> <br />On the twelfth day of unemployment, my husband gave to me...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Twelve pounds protruding</span> (from my belly)<br />Eleven meatballs cooking,<br />Ten loads of laundry,<br /> Nine bowls chicken soup,<br /> Eight oatmeal cookies,<br /> Seven shoveled pathways,<br /> Six clean basement shelves,<br /> Five more coo-ookiiiieeeees!<br /> Four calling friends,<br /> Three french loaves,<br /> Two batches of no-bakes,<br /> and A dust free wood burning stove mantle.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Poor Hus.</span>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-16107200961374869842011-01-12T17:00:00.001-05:002011-01-12T18:22:19.899-05:00Thinking of SummerI've never been an outdoors person. Mostly because for me to actually want to go outside, the weather has to be perfect; Low 80's with low humidity and calm winds. That doesn't happen that often in Vermont...or anywhere!I also have to have something specific to do outside. Mostly I enjoy lounging outside if the weather is nice.<br /><br />If the kids are home, I have to force myself, to avoid the guilt of being a lazy ass mother, to go outside to play with them. I'm proud of myself that today I did just that. I went outside with Tony in the snow storm, walked around, measured snow inches, made a snow angel and sat inside our tree house a bit. Little time passed and I returned inside and started drinking wine. (Still drinking, so forgive my grammar and spelling errors, please!)<br /><br />Occasionally I also get these creative ideas which bring me outside. Today I thought I should take pictures of the bright red male cardinals against the sparkly white snow, but when I finally brought the camera outside, the cardinals had departed. I did get this photo of an English Sparrow (actually I took it from inside) perched on our "thingy hanger" on the porch.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TS4y9eK3_NI/AAAAAAAABOc/_j9TezeG8lc/s1600/birdy.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TS4y9eK3_NI/AAAAAAAABOc/_j9TezeG8lc/s400/birdy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561438621501226194" border="0" /></a><br />And a picture of fluffy Summer sitting on the porch. He was outside less time than me!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TS4yuNiDVXI/AAAAAAAABOU/4H2pqooxbaE/s1600/furcoat.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TS4yuNiDVXI/AAAAAAAABOU/4H2pqooxbaE/s400/furcoat.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561438359336998258" border="0" /></a>Once, when Em was a baby, I decided it would be a wonderful idea to take pictures of her outside surrounded by all of Hus's flowers. It worked out while she was on the porch. Soo pretty! ( I think those larkspur are poisonous, oops)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TSZwu9nU8MI/AAAAAAAABOM/v3juDyUJFwk/s1600/flowerem.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 366px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TSZwu9nU8MI/AAAAAAAABOM/v3juDyUJFwk/s400/flowerem.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559254742151262402" border="0" /></a><br />But then I decided I would put her, still in her bouncy seat, on the hillside in an actual flower bed. Well, of course she started screaming, and then bouncing and then flipping herself over...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TSZv1kr18jI/AAAAAAAABOE/E5XX2xJ43OQ/s1600/bouncingdownhill.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 284px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TSZv1kr18jI/AAAAAAAABOE/E5XX2xJ43OQ/s400/bouncingdownhill.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559253756206772786" border="0" /></a>I managed to snap this photo before dropping the camera and throwing myself down to catch her before she landed face first in the flowers.<br /><br />I felt like such a horrible mother that day, thinking, OMG, how could I have been so careless? She could have died! Over a silly picture!<br /><br />Now I think it was pretty funny.Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-65547352983504075252010-12-27T00:00:00.002-05:002010-12-27T00:00:02.365-05:00This Winter can't go by fast enough. I know you're not supposed to rush time away because you only have so much, but I am already sick of winter. Luckily, time has been flying by and the weather hasn't been so bad. So far.<br /><br />Ya, I don't want to hear that I chose to live here. I know, and for the most part I do like it here. I just really really don't like winter weather. Snow is okay but last year we had so many ice storms it was scary. I'll even take sleet over freezing rain because at least your tires have something to grip on.<br /><br />I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas. I had a fun time at the SIL's house. I drank half of the bottle of wine shown below, which is a double size bottle! I would have drank more but I started to get tired.<br /><br />We played a game called <a href="http://www.hasbro.com/shop/details.cfm?guid=93A51889-6D40-1014-8BF0-9EFBF894F9D4&product_id=20743">The Game of Things</a>. It was pretty funny. Mostly because everyone was drinking alcohol (there was one relative on parole that couldn't drink). I mean the grown-ups were drinking alcohol. The kids were just smoking pot...JUST KIDDING!<br /><br />I got the best gifts ever...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TRep3bnwC0I/AAAAAAAABN8/LGdJjBOOvRI/s1600/mama%2527s%2Bglass.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 359px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TRep3bnwC0I/AAAAAAAABN8/LGdJjBOOvRI/s400/mama%2527s%2Bglass.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555095435157179202" border="0" /></a><br />a giant wine glass, a giant cheap bottle of wine, home-made book marks-which I had to beg the kids to make-because I'm always losing them and have to use tissue as a page marker-and hand sanitizer.<br /><br />Tony's favorite gifts by far...<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TReozxvlTxI/AAAAAAAABN0/JqlKLtIipIg/s1600/Tonys%2Bgerm%2Bstuff.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TReozxvlTxI/AAAAAAAABN0/JqlKLtIipIg/s400/Tonys%2Bgerm%2Bstuff.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555094272864505618" border="0" /></a>giant plastic shelves to sort his legos, and hand sanitizer.<br /><br /><br />Em...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TRen1wVgB1I/AAAAAAAABNs/u53U4_r1BDQ/s1600/ems%2Bbook.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TRen1wVgB1I/AAAAAAAABNs/u53U4_r1BDQ/s400/ems%2Bbook.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555093207334782802" border="0" /></a><br />got another book.<br /><br />Papa got an over-sized fluffy blanket. For which he announced that if anyone is caught using it, he'll break their arms! He's vicious. So are we, because we laughed at him.<br /><br />Happy almost New Year!Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-71292564167089243452010-12-06T12:00:00.001-05:002010-12-06T14:57:55.908-05:00Miscellaneous Manure 13*************************************<br />I love playing tricks on my Hus. A few weeks ago, I refilled an empty bottle of unscented lotion with rose scented lotion. Then I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally I asked Hus if he noticed anything about the lotion and that's when he told me he doesn't use lotion! He uses baby oil after showers and Burts Bee's hand cream. How could I not know this?<br /><br />Last week, I was doing what I could to prevent my having allergy symptoms. I bought all new hypoallergenic make-up, but forgot to get new face lotion, so I decided to try using some of the regular unscented lotion we had, which said hypoallergenic on the label.<br /><br />I put it on my face. AAAHHHHH! WTF? I forgot that I had switched the lotion. I'm such a loser.<br /><br />**************************************<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TPz0mlhs1CI/AAAAAAAABNg/TRd2_bbkZjc/s1600/Ant-Ones%2Bstory%2B225.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TPz0mlhs1CI/AAAAAAAABNg/TRd2_bbkZjc/s400/Ant-Ones%2Bstory%2B225.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547577784759276578" border="0" /></a>Tony has been taking karate this year. He managed to get is orange belt already. He loves karate. Tony didn't like playing baseball because he's the type of kid that needs to know what to do, exactly what to do. None of the 7yo baseball players seemed to know what to do except hit the ball and run. As far as what to do with the ball if someone hits it to you, no clue.<br /><br />He likes that, in Karate, he's taught very specific moves and routines. It's structured and the Sensei is strict, yet very nice and patient.<br /><br />When we watched Tony perform for his orange belt, I said to Hus. "He seems to really know what he's doing."<br /><br />Hus replied "Well, we think he does. She could be teaching whatever she wants and we'll never know if it's really karate or not.LOL!"<br />************************************<br /><br />I've changed the kids nicknames to other nicknames we use. Someone (<a href="http://wherehotcomestodie.com/">Suzy</a>) complained that Ant-1 didn't roll of her tongue easy enough and that Snemma makes her think of "smegma"! Also Em does not like me to call her Snemma here, preferring her other nickname Em. So Tony and Em it is.<br />************************************<br /><br />Happy Hanukkah! Still!Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-76663242633837141322010-12-01T10:00:00.003-05:002010-12-01T11:53:03.047-05:00Happy Hanukkah!Happy Hanukkah! Yes the first night of Hanukkah is tonight, but because I have to work, we celebrated last night. Poor kids, having to get their first night presents early.<br /><br />I grew up in a predominately non-Jewish neighborhood. The only time my friends were jealous of me was when Hanukkah came early. The rest of the year, I think they felt sorry for me. I felt sorry for me.<br /><br />Even though my parents had told me a "truth" about Santa at a very young age, I still believed, because kids do that. Some Xmas Eves I would look out the window, searching the sky, and wondering why the fat bastard didn't come to my house!<br /><br />My kids are fortunate to celebrate both holidays. They don't get more presents than any of their friends, but the gifts are just spread out.<br /><br />Last night we lit the candles and we said the Hanukkah prayer in Hebrew. At least I think it was the Hanukkah prayer, maybe it was the Sabbath prayer with a "shell Hanukkah" thrown in at the end. Bad Jew.<br /><br />Grandma always sends eight presents each to the kids, luckily one of them was not a visit from her this year. We just saw her at TG!<br /><br />Ant-1's gift from Hus and I, although Hus will never know how much I spent on it, even though I saved $30 off retail by shopping Amazon! Lego's are very expensive, but my son loves them. He has many of the Star Wars Lego kits and know covets the Harry Potter ones.<br /><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TPW71bHTgoI/AAAAAAAABNY/2zUbLFiv1SU/s1600/HPcastle2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 346px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TPW71bHTgoI/AAAAAAAABNY/2zUbLFiv1SU/s400/HPcastle2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545545042662490754" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TPW7Aqmdd4I/AAAAAAAABNQ/61T_8Lft27g/s1600/emdrwingbook.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TPW7Aqmdd4I/AAAAAAAABNQ/61T_8Lft27g/s400/emdrwingbook.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545544136286631810" border="0" /></a>Don't let the quote fool you. She also upgraded her phone, but we had to do it last week when we could bring in her old phone.<br /><br />For the first evening in a long time, my daughter spent her time, not on FB or Skype, but drawing instead.<br /><br />I hope, no matter what holiday you celebrate, that you get a present that takes your breath away!Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-4634328833442241712010-11-25T00:00:00.001-05:002010-11-25T00:00:03.566-05:00You Shouldn't Eat Family on Thanksgiving<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TO2DtsQ5hQI/AAAAAAAABNI/z_PyuMMAAX8/s1600/big%2Bbird%2Bfor%2Bthanksgiving.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 296px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TO2DtsQ5hQI/AAAAAAAABNI/z_PyuMMAAX8/s400/big%2Bbird%2Bfor%2Bthanksgiving.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543231537362339074" border="0" /></a>Grandma, my mother, is here for Thanksgiving. She has somehow managed to make it a tradition that she stay two nights for the holiday instead of one. I know that wasn't my idea.<br /><br />I shouldn't really complain. She keeps Ant-1 busy her entire stay by doing anything he wants. Hide in Seek, board games, cards. I tried to warn her about the playing cards before they started today, that he is not a very good loser, and he doesn't like to playing by the rules, but she let him win.<br /><br />I also shouldn't complain about grandma because she just handed me a $50 bill. She said it's for the turkey and other food I bought. I'm not going to tell her I got the $7 turkey for free. Actually, I got two turkeys for free. Except they were not really free because I had to spend $500 TWICE to get them.<br /><br />I spend way too much money on groceries.<br /><br />Hope you all have a great Thanksgiving, and don't have to cook a family member.<br /><br />Poor Big Bird.Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-85037117936123831982010-11-20T00:00:00.000-05:002010-11-20T01:45:38.773-05:00Saturday Sounds 24 or Do You Love Me?I love this song. It makes me happy.<br /><br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7k-VAlIPzKg?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7k-VAlIPzKg?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />Hus hates this song because it gets stuck in his head and he can't stop himself from singing it out loud at times. (I heard him in the shower!)<br /><br />Ant-One likes the video because the band is wearing long underwear.<br /><br />Snemma could care less either way.Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-89643195101868162052010-11-16T20:30:00.000-05:002010-11-16T21:49:28.179-05:00The Cow That Was MadIn previous posts, I have shared some of my daughters writings. Ant-One has only been writing a short time but has already written several stories. This is one of his earliest works but still one of my favorites.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Cow That Was Mad</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:180%;">one day thar was a cow that was so mad. that he rect the gate. that was rite in frent of him. when the farmr got home he was so mad that he sole the cow.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TOM627Z-8aI/AAAAAAAABNA/dKU20LjQNqY/s1600/mad%2Bcow.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TOM627Z-8aI/AAAAAAAABNA/dKU20LjQNqY/s400/mad%2Bcow.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540336681929863586" border="0" /></a></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />Note the drawing on the bottom of the page of the cow being auctioned off! Batman is clearly being outbid by some anonymous dude on the stage to the right. What would Batman want with a cow anyways?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TOM6Dv1tZsI/AAAAAAAABM4/4TR5jLZBCFc/s1600/batman%2Bbid.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TOM6Dv1tZsI/AAAAAAAABM4/4TR5jLZBCFc/s400/batman%2Bbid.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540335802651600578" border="0" /></a>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-43374183836782455952010-11-08T11:30:00.005-05:002010-11-08T12:38:12.147-05:00I Got a Lot Done These Past Six Weeks OffI've had almost six weeks off from work since my Carpal Tunnel surgery. I had big plans for this time, lots of stuff on my to do list. Did I get all of it done? Not even close.<br /><br />I had hoped to write 4 complete chapters of my book and a query letter for it. HA! I only wrote 3 chapters, very rough draft chapters, and Googled query letters. The thing is that I already wrote 3 chapters a long time ago, but decided to change perspective from 3rd to 1st person. Hus is the only one I've told what the book is about, and he's not remembering! All I'll say for now is that the book is fiction, fantasy, sci-fi, young adult, but there are NO vampires, NO werewolves and NO aliens.<br /><br />I had planned to get the house organized and fix any little fix-it problems needed. I did clean off the top of the kitchen cabinets but that's about it. I really wanted to sew a small torn area on our favorite chair that has stuffing poking out of it. For now I jut stare at the fluff and think, well maybe tomorrow. Maybe if Ant-One would stop jumping on it, the hole would stop growing.<br /><br />What I've done mostly is sleep late, feel unmotivated most of the afternoon, then drive the kids around to their lives.<br /><br />Hus said he'll miss me when I go back to work this Thursday.<br /><br />I said "Oh, I'm sure you will be glad to have a break from me.."<br /><br />To which he replied "Well, I meant it was nice to have you around to take the kids all the places they need to go to."<br /><br />Ya, I thought so.<br /><br />I'm sure if I had sex with him every night, he would miss me more, but I had no motivation for that either!<br /><br />At least Ant-One will miss me and be sure to make me feel guilty about working too.Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-73637150644019637262010-11-02T19:00:00.000-05:002010-11-02T19:47:04.383-05:00Kid Stuff That Should Not Be Given To Kids<div>*Board games*<br />Starts off like regular enjoyable family fun, but quickly turns into a crying, tantrum, sore loser, let's throw fake money all over the house type of fun.<br /><br />*Books*<br />Yes, that's books. First you have to read to the children, over and over and over, then when they can read, you have to listen to them read to you, over and over and over...<br /><br />*Water guns*<br />These are only fun when they are filled with booze and aimed directly into your mouth.<br /><br />*Karaoke machine*<br />Unless the parents can carry a tune, chances are the kids won't be able to either.<br /><br />*Glitter*<br />Obvious, right? I love glitter, but I only use it when I am annoyed with Hus because he absolutely hates glitter!<br /><div><br /><div>*Anything made out of cheap plastic*<br /><div>Fun times for about 3 seconds until the toy breaks-see *Boardgames*</div><br />*Bicycles*<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><br />Cuz</span> they will cry and scream until you take the training wheels off, then cry and scream until you put them back on.</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535112761791405586" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; height: 301px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TNCruwZO3hI/AAAAAAAABL8/DnGSG1gndow/s400/trainingwheels1.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535111787900743138" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; height: 301px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TNCq2EXmreI/AAAAAAAABL0/QBJYJ-wQVMs/s400/trainingwheelssmile.jpg" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535110896437983762" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; height: 301px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TNCqCLaUehI/AAAAAAAABLs/Z5l-MjsIlSc/s400/trainingwheels2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><div>What is the worse toy you can think of?<br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-55534458178652088592010-10-29T11:53:00.004-05:002010-10-29T11:58:25.062-05:00Happy Halloween!<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dt-gQATQ9T8?hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dt-gQATQ9T8?hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />I don't think she wanted to.<br /><br />Well, she's 18 years old, she can do what she wants.<br /><br />She love's it when I talk to her in my special "cat voice".Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-63800097875172671332010-10-26T12:00:00.000-05:002010-10-26T12:09:10.303-05:00Such a Nice Italian Family"Such a nice Italian family!" The Sensei said to me and Ant-One, my 7yo son, at Karate class.<br /><br />"Um" cough, flush "Thanks" I replied.<br /><br />I explained to the Sensei that, while Ant-One is part Italian, I don't know what I am. She shook her head and said "Oh, I can tell."<br /><br />Being that my son has dark brown hair and eyes and another nick-name, besides Ant-One, that sounds very Italian, and he is at least 1/8 Italian, I can understand why she would assume that. However, I've never been told I look Italian, only Puerto Rican (when I was little) and American (heh heh) now.<br /><br />I would love find out I was really Italian, or Puerto Rican or any other nationality, rather than the alien from another planet, I think I am.<br /><br />Because I obsess about these superficial external traits in myself and my family, I'll share with you. I also obsess about personality traits too, but don't want you to have to read a book right now.<br /><br />This is a photo of my mother in law Sylvia, when she graduated from High School. She is half Italian and half English. If you shorten the hair and slightly narrow the bridge of the nose, that is my son. Every feature, the strong chin, round dark brown eyes (Hus's eyes are the same shape but dark Hazel/Brown color) and well, those lips (Hus has those too!) it's uncanny.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TMZFhhAStXI/AAAAAAAABLk/nJIKSz95kpE/s1600/Sylvia1.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TMZFhhAStXI/AAAAAAAABLk/nJIKSz95kpE/s400/Sylvia1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532185634368828786" border="0" /></a><br />My 12yo daughter Snemma has the same shape eyes, except hers are olive green. Snemma wishes she had those lips, but her lips are even more fascinating to me because they are unlike mine or any of Hus's family's lips. Ya, at Christmas, I stare at his family members lips/eyes, don't worry, they just think I'm paying attention to what they're saying, which is usually something about someone I never heard of.<br /><br />All put together, Snemma looks very much like me, but her individual parts are different. It's still nice to see me in her, whether she likes it or not!<br /><br />Snemma's lips are so pretty, shaped like a perfect heart in the middle from her cupids bow to her lower lip and the way they thin out toward the corners. I found this pic of the actress Clara Bow from the 1920's and seriously, Snemma has these lips. Maybe Clara is a long long very lost distant great grandma? Just kidding.<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clara_Bow"><br /><br /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clara_Bow"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 314px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6_VM1O1m20w/TMZE7Z4BMeI/AAAAAAAABLc/g4_LDxL9xAY/s320/ClaraBow11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532184979620049378" border="0" /></a><br />I also wonder who Snemma got her wonderful butt from. I'll have to keep an eye out at Christmas.Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33768245.post-69479861174580425192010-10-23T14:59:00.003-05:002010-10-23T15:15:12.187-05:00I'm Back!I would like to thank the 5-7 visitors that came everyday while I was gone. Thank you.<br /><br />I've been gone a lot longer than I had planned. It seemed like I just had no time to blog, mostly spending my days driving my kids around or entertaining them. But truthfully, I think I was feeling guilty spending so much time blogging and not enough with the family. However, when I didn't have blogging, I still found myself spending as much time on the computer, only for much less worthy (useless) causes, like Facebook. Ugh.<br /><br />Enough though, I missed you all and can't wait to start reading the over 400 posts I missed. It might take me a while.<br /><br />I can't type much here yet as I am still recovering from the Carpal Tunnel Surgery I had on October 1st. I'm not sure if it's normal that it still hurts like a mo-fo at times but if any of you have any extra pain medicine lying around...<br /><br />The weather has been great here in Vermont, it's like I'm not even living in Vermont! It's like I moved to a warmer state, like Massachusetts! I called my mechanic to have him order studded snow tires for my car and he laughed at me and said "don't jinx us".<br />It snowed 2 days later. Just a little.Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08903593840515283971noreply@blogger.com4