<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1178373528315346638</id><updated>2011-07-07T18:47:27.319-05:00</updated><category term='Friends'/><category term='MS150'/><category term='Lacrosse'/><category term='personal conflict'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Grandkids'/><title type='text'>Valerie's Pieces</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Valerie's Pieces</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00251969718996785659</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SeOH1Kz8UmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qkK4aaGfyZ0/S220/Valerie.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1178373528315346638.post-6984807693269118678</id><published>2009-06-11T22:48:00.016-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T11:12:21.560-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Red Neck Shower</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLPHI1SryI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/POr30v66GQY/s1600-h/openpres.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351067028806610722" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLPHI1SryI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/POr30v66GQY/s320/openpres.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLO4ySOOII/AAAAAAAAAJ0/-1quqjBApzc/s1600-h/robert+tiff+new.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351066782235768962" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 259px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLO4ySOOII/AAAAAAAAAJ0/-1quqjBApzc/s320/robert+tiff+new.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;On June 6th (Yes, I know I'm late posting this) was my daughter's bridal shower. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLMtmCEElI/AAAAAAAAAJs/YY2VZEXHhmg/s1600-h/beercan+house.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351064390944952914" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 241px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLMtmCEElI/AAAAAAAAAJs/YY2VZEXHhmg/s320/beercan+house.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The theme was a Red-Neck Shower, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Miller Light cans were strung on the &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;house and fence, and I'm talking &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;hundred's of of them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLMtmCEElI/AAAAAAAAAJs/YY2VZEXHhmg/s1600-h/beercan+house.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I can't even imagine how much time &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;or hours of drinking beer was done&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;to make this possible. It was really &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cake, well it speaks for itself.&lt;br /&gt;Who ever thought of an ice chest&lt;br /&gt;full of beer, was is a genius.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLbMDYHhDI/AAAAAAAAALE/WmNeCW7IrNo/s1600-h/cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351080307380945970" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 241px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLbMDYHhDI/AAAAAAAAALE/WmNeCW7IrNo/s320/cake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiffany's father's side of the family and long-time family friends (of me too) hosted this very special event. My son-in-law to be is a perfect fit into our families. No, he's not a red-neck (or is he.....), I just know how happy my daughter and granddaughter are since Robert came into their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiffany has a really good friend (Jamie, that's her in the blue top), and her husband (John), has a really good friend (Robert), do you see where I'm going with this? Well they were introduced at their Halloween party and the rest was history. They fell in love and are now getting married. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLQL-wIgSI/AAAAAAAAAKE/1Ay-orO1Tsg/s1600-h/Tiffany+Jamie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351068211511591202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 178px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLQL-wIgSI/AAAAAAAAAKE/1Ay-orO1Tsg/s320/Tiffany+Jamie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love Robert just as any mother would love her son, simply put, he completes my daughter.&lt;br /&gt;Okay, enough about that, let's get on to the shower - it was fun, everyone had fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLRdHSJiyI/AAAAAAAAAKM/wAEG6RAslbc/s1600-h/Brody+Kaitlyn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351069605371153186" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 259px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLRdHSJiyI/AAAAAAAAAKM/wAEG6RAslbc/s320/Brody+Kaitlyn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kids, they can have fun anywhere there is water, Cheryl set up her grandkids slip-n-slid and that kept them entertained for a while, them Ryland spotted the small pool and that was filled up with water and they played for hours in there. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandparents having fun......&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLSKBgfLOI/AAAAAAAAAKU/i-bTGmdr4Pg/s1600-h/tiff+mom+dad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351070376914791650" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 222px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLSKBgfLOI/AAAAAAAAAKU/i-bTGmdr4Pg/s320/tiff+mom+dad.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Young adults having fun........&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLS_vvW5WI/AAAAAAAAAKk/Z6XezIhMDUQ/s1600-h/line+dancing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351071299858261346" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 231px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLS_vvW5WI/AAAAAAAAAKk/Z6XezIhMDUQ/s320/line+dancing.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Older adults having fun.........&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLUCRNNXEI/AAAAAAAAAKs/sM9IMVfdxdA/s1600-h/momdaddylan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351072442713201730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 222px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLUCRNNXEI/AAAAAAAAAKs/sM9IMVfdxdA/s320/momdaddylan.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Family having fun........................&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLVsBs8hUI/AAAAAAAAAK0/OjNOOkttz_A/s1600-h/Sammie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351074259617482050" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 284px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLVsBs8hUI/AAAAAAAAAK0/OjNOOkttz_A/s320/Sammie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLVsBs8hUI/AAAAAAAAAK0/OjNOOkttz_A/s1600-h/Sammie.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLVsBs8hUI/AAAAAAAAAK0/OjNOOkttz_A/s1600-h/Sammie.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tiffany's dog ("Sammie")having fun..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLXtnvX90I/AAAAAAAAAK8/Dt6LzMY3dlI/s1600-h/family.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351076486031341378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 232px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLXtnvX90I/AAAAAAAAAK8/Dt6LzMY3dlI/s320/family.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before my parents left, and much to every one's pleasure.... we had another photo taken. Why is it no one ever likes their photo taken? Well, I love it when my children are together and I have to take advantage of any opportunity to get another photo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until next time..... &lt;em&gt;Valerie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1178373528315346638-6984807693269118678?l=valeriespieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/feeds/6984807693269118678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/2009/06/red-neck-shower.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default/6984807693269118678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default/6984807693269118678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/2009/06/red-neck-shower.html' title='Red Neck Shower'/><author><name>Valerie's Pieces</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00251969718996785659</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SeOH1Kz8UmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qkK4aaGfyZ0/S220/Valerie.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SkLPHI1SryI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/POr30v66GQY/s72-c/openpres.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1178373528315346638.post-76181146034111465</id><published>2009-06-04T21:22:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T21:56:41.457-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Kids, you got to love them!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;As I look at these pictures I see several things, first I asked my dear children to smile so I could get a picture of them. As you can see, they listen very well. After taking a look at the picture on the back of the camera, (don't you just love the ability to do that) I noticed several things. First my son and soon to be son-in-law were acting silly in their pose. My daughter at least gave it an attempt to smile, I could tell she was tired and was TRYING to humor me. She really hates pictures. The boys, and I do use the term lightly, were just trying to aggravate me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SiiBtwjAzdI/AAAAAAAAAIE/yH3-jDU2FLk/s1600-h/boys+right.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 186px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343663581000945106" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SiiBtwjAzdI/AAAAAAAAAIE/yH3-jDU2FLk/s320/boys+right.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;I wonder what they are looking at. See the angle of their eyes pointing towards the sky, I wonder if it's Superman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SiiBtn7MdVI/AAAAAAAAAH8/N5UkSqJQThI/s1600-h/boys+left.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 182px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343663578686453074" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SiiBtn7MdVI/AAAAAAAAAH8/N5UkSqJQThI/s320/boys+left.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Can you see the true aggravation in my daughter's lovely face here. I think it's more a smirk than a smile, the BOYS on the other hand, are really trying my patience. As I scold them, and Tiffany sees that they are not even trying, I ask them to pose AGAIN to her horror.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SiiBtxV2orI/AAAAAAAAAIM/6wygQvwDAB0/s1600-h/Tiffany+sticking+t+out.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SiiBtxV2orI/AAAAAAAAAIM/6wygQvwDAB0/s1600-h/Tiffany+sticking+t+out.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 198px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343663581214188210" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SiiBtxV2orI/AAAAAAAAAIM/6wygQvwDAB0/s320/Tiffany+sticking+t+out.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well as you can see from this very pretty picture, my son is over playing games, my son-in-law is not taking my tone of voice seriously, and my lovely daughter is giving me her favorite pose. I think that's a "take this" gesture. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Why is it that they can't just humor me and take a pretty picture. They should know by now where it will end up.  ON MY BLOG!  Have a great weekend everyone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; Valerie&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1178373528315346638-76181146034111465?l=valeriespieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/feeds/76181146034111465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/2009/06/kids-you-got-to-love-them.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default/76181146034111465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default/76181146034111465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/2009/06/kids-you-got-to-love-them.html' title='Kids, you got to love them!'/><author><name>Valerie's Pieces</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00251969718996785659</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SeOH1Kz8UmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qkK4aaGfyZ0/S220/Valerie.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SiiBtwjAzdI/AAAAAAAAAIE/yH3-jDU2FLk/s72-c/boys+right.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1178373528315346638.post-3369449838430901217</id><published>2009-05-27T20:52:00.028-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T08:24:29.812-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Aging Gracefully (well, maybe not that gracefully)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Sh4Uj4TGEQI/AAAAAAAAAGo/HLU7MoJUODQ/s1600-h/50+cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340728814748438786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Sh4Uj4TGEQI/AAAAAAAAAGo/HLU7MoJUODQ/s320/50+cake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663300;"&gt;Guess Who Turned 50?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663300;"&gt;ME, that's who.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been so wonderfully blessed with family and friends. I thought 50 was going to be a rough ride, who wants to turn 50? Not me. Never thought I would be 50 and single. Who would of, I mean if you knew me, you would understand. I know my friends do, and no they wouldn't be saying that I hide behind all of my "projects" and that's why I'm still single. That would be cruel of them, wouldn't it. Do you really have to get out of the house to meet someone? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Sh4SI2JCh7I/AAAAAAAAAGI/jukrQItAm0I/s1600-h/50+cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Sh4TF3F1SoI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/eYYn_iPZzXE/s1600-h/mdp+friends.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I was lucky enough to have two parties. The first one was a total surprise. It was held on Saturday, May 16 at my dear friend Denetta's house. Sharon, Miggs and Mandy helped her pull this off. What sneaky little ladies they are. Apparently they had been planning this for many months. Not a word to me, am I so oblivious to what is going on around me that I couldn't pick up on it. I guess so. Mandy, cake "&lt;em&gt;decorator extraordinaire&lt;/em&gt;" made her finest creation to date, and it was for me. Thanks Mandy! My dear friend Rachel (and co-jewelry maker friend) put together the most wonderful slide show of everyone's photos and sent it to me. You can view it here if you would like. &lt;a href="http://www.photoshow.com/watch/tg4Zp3qJ"&gt;http://www.photoshow.com/watch/tg4Zp3qJ&lt;/a&gt; It was like I was there from the beginning, they sure looked like they are having fun without me. How could that be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Sh4XB33zJsI/AAAAAAAAAGw/9ztP2cfRugg/s1600-h/Maria_edited-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340731529053284034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Sh4XB33zJsI/AAAAAAAAAGw/9ztP2cfRugg/s320/Maria_edited-2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Everyone brought food, beer, frozen yummy drinks and Denetta's husband Paul, grilled sausage and hamburgers. Kevin, Maria's husband, and my friend also, went to so much trouble making me this HUGE sign, which everyone wrote such nice things about me. I guess they think I have one foot in the grave and they had to say something nice. Not really, that is one thing I know for sure, I am very well loved. I love you guys, thanks so much. This is one party I will never forget. Pam and Donna, thanks for seeing me home. I know what you thinking, was to tipsy, no I was not. I was to busy visiting everyone to remember to drink my beer. My daughter Tiffany brought me and as ploy saying that Denetta was going to look at her wedding invitations. That is how she got me there and I love her so much. She has given me the best present a grandmother could want. I have been blessed with the best grandkids. She had to leave before me to get them home and into bed, so I didn't have a car. Farrell, that was the sweetest thing your dad did. I couldn't believe he made me that precious sea glass necklace. I will treasure it always. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Sh4PQXnsiZI/AAAAAAAAAF4/IBJZwXfg8_8/s1600-h/Katiebug.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Sh4X7iXZVtI/AAAAAAAAAHA/IPs9tx1LhrU/s1600-h/Ryland.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340732519712642770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 229px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 252px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Sh4X7iXZVtI/AAAAAAAAAHA/IPs9tx1LhrU/s320/Ryland.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Sh4XsQ6-GHI/AAAAAAAAAG4/u_Q1DSje2RE/s1600-h/Katiebug.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340732257331976306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 217px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 252px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Sh4XsQ6-GHI/AAAAAAAAAG4/u_Q1DSje2RE/s320/Katiebug.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are two of my grandkids, Kaitlyn (aka Katiebug) and Ryland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now on my actual birthday, May 19, my dear friend Leslie N. (for 20 something years) had my kids and I over for grilled hamburgers and swimming. My precious grandbabies were there (they're part fish), along with Pam, Janet and Leslie B. We had a great time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Sh4aiW95sBI/AAAAAAAAAHw/gypdyE04SIM/s1600-h/friends+at+50+BD.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340735385691074578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 270px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 142px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Sh4aiW95sBI/AAAAAAAAAHw/gypdyE04SIM/s320/friends+at+50+BD.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Sh4aT_J1WsI/AAAAAAAAAHo/10RaGvwCJkU/s1600-h/Brody+swimming.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340735138780502722" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 225px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 144px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Sh4aT_J1WsI/AAAAAAAAAHo/10RaGvwCJkU/s320/Brody+swimming.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to anyone who took the time to read this. My friends and family are very important to me, they complete my life. I don't know where I would be without them. I hope to get to spend another 50 wonderful years with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much love to you all. Valerie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1178373528315346638-3369449838430901217?l=valeriespieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/feeds/3369449838430901217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/2009/05/aging-gracefully-well-maybe-not-that.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default/3369449838430901217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default/3369449838430901217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/2009/05/aging-gracefully-well-maybe-not-that.html' title='Aging Gracefully (well, maybe not that gracefully)'/><author><name>Valerie's Pieces</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00251969718996785659</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SeOH1Kz8UmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qkK4aaGfyZ0/S220/Valerie.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Sh4Uj4TGEQI/AAAAAAAAAGo/HLU7MoJUODQ/s72-c/50+cake.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1178373528315346638.post-4202523568678525510</id><published>2009-05-25T11:45:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T17:18:24.968-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lacrosse'/><title type='text'>Klein Lacrosse</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;This post is about my son Dylan, he is 14 years old and a freshman at Klein High School. Dylan got into Lacrosse in the 7&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade. From the day he first went to a trial practice with his friend Jake, he loved it. That night we went to Play it Again Sports and bought his equipment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/ShsVaeBJF8I/AAAAAAAAAFY/ucAPyWul7SU/s1600-h/the+3+amigos.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 261px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339885327656490946" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/ShsVaeBJF8I/AAAAAAAAAFY/ucAPyWul7SU/s320/the+3+amigos.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The banquet was held this past week, here Dylan is with his friend Kevin and Zach waiting to receive their awards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/ShsVaFX2mUI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Olr89Mf19eA/s1600-h/dyl+rec+off+play+of+year.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 272px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339885321040861506" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/ShsVaFX2mUI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Olr89Mf19eA/s320/dyl+rec+off+play+of+year.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Dylan received the Offensive Player of the Year award. I was so proud of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/ShsVZw39weI/AAAAAAAAAFI/a0Hzv15wFPc/s1600-h/JV+Team.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 162px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339885315538403810" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/ShsVZw39weI/AAAAAAAAAFI/a0Hzv15wFPc/s320/JV+Team.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is a picture of the whole JV team with Coach Chris and Coach Drew. They are two wonderful coaches. Dylan has come a long way this year with their help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/ShsVZpaOJDI/AAAAAAAAAFA/693f0Tz2Cy8/s1600-h/DSC_0481_edited-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 287px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339885313534600242" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/ShsVZpaOJDI/AAAAAAAAAFA/693f0Tz2Cy8/s320/DSC_0481_edited-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These two pictures are of Dylan with the ball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/ShsVZfRlFlI/AAAAAAAAAE4/eX0-hbmpjME/s1600-h/Dylan+v+Taylor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 261px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339885310814000722" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/ShsVZfRlFlI/AAAAAAAAAE4/eX0-hbmpjME/s320/Dylan+v+Taylor.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; If you have never seen this sport played. You should catch a game. Much more exciting than football. ;o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1178373528315346638-4202523568678525510?l=valeriespieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/feeds/4202523568678525510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/2009/05/lacrosse-klein-high-school.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default/4202523568678525510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default/4202523568678525510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/2009/05/lacrosse-klein-high-school.html' title='Klein Lacrosse'/><author><name>Valerie's Pieces</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00251969718996785659</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SeOH1Kz8UmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qkK4aaGfyZ0/S220/Valerie.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/ShsVaeBJF8I/AAAAAAAAAFY/ucAPyWul7SU/s72-c/the+3+amigos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1178373528315346638.post-5591769057796941100</id><published>2009-05-18T19:02:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T20:40:00.129-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grandkids'/><title type='text'>I ♥ Faces Kids Entry - Brody</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.iheartfaces.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.livinglocurto.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/125x125.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/ShICcMThtVI/AAAAAAAAAEw/g-SErzzHdd4/s1600-h/Brody+Boo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 232px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337331191750178130" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/ShICcMThtVI/AAAAAAAAAEw/g-SErzzHdd4/s320/Brody+Boo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my grandson Brody, I decided to enter his adorable little face in a contest at &lt;a href="http://iheartfaces.com/"&gt;http://iheartfaces.com/&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been waiting for weeks, literally, so that I could post this picture. I am not a photographer at all, I just love taking pictures. When you have a grandson this cute you can't help but follow him around snapping pictures. I love the way he makes eye contact with the camera, I fell like he gets it. After I take a picture of him he instantly wants to see it. Now I have to try and figure out how to post this on Mr. Linky and also how to get the button in the middle of this blog. I am really, really new at this. ;o) I did it!!! I can't believe it. Now, all I have to do is figure out Mr. Linky. Wish me luck. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am submitting this photo into the &lt;a href="http://www.iheartfaces.com/"&gt;http://www.iheartfaces.com/&lt;/a&gt; Blurb Book photo contest. I am granting I ♥ Faces permission to use my photo in a printed version of a book for commercial use and possibly advertising of a photo book on both the Blurb and I ♥ Faces web sites.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1178373528315346638-5591769057796941100?l=valeriespieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/feeds/5591769057796941100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-faces-kids-entry-brody.html#comment-form' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default/5591769057796941100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default/5591769057796941100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-faces-kids-entry-brody.html' title='I ♥ Faces Kids Entry - Brody'/><author><name>Valerie's Pieces</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00251969718996785659</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SeOH1Kz8UmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qkK4aaGfyZ0/S220/Valerie.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/ShICcMThtVI/AAAAAAAAAEw/g-SErzzHdd4/s72-c/Brody+Boo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1178373528315346638.post-7245326671378764977</id><published>2009-05-12T14:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T15:22:23.546-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal conflict'/><title type='text'>How does one change?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I have to tell you, I am pissed at myself again.  Why oh why does my mouth keep getting me into trouble, why is it that I feel compelled to yell at games. Why is it that when a dear friend tries to tell me that the mothers of the team players are in front of me that I just don't shut up?  Why is it that I am consumed with people liking me?  Why is it that I am so afraid that the words already spoken will not be forgotten? Why is it that I was not born mild or meek?  Why is it that I can't see the whole picture?  Why is it that a bunch of women with money get under my skin?  Why should I care?  Why do people feel so compelled to look down their noses at someone just because they don't live in the same neighborhood as they do?  Why do they have to gossip and spread ugly things about nice people? Why should I care what they think of me?  Why, why, why?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I live in a world where you have to worry about what you say and do and how people act and react to it.  I hate it.  I sit her getting madder and madder at myself thinking that my son will be the one who pays for his mothers words.  Would women go after a kid?  Who knows.  I guess I will just sit back, mouth shut, mild and meek, kiss some butt and pray that these women who have nothing better to do but gossip and compete with each other..... do.  Sad, Sad, Sad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1178373528315346638-7245326671378764977?l=valeriespieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/feeds/7245326671378764977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-does-one-change.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default/7245326671378764977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default/7245326671378764977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-does-one-change.html' title='How does one change?'/><author><name>Valerie's Pieces</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00251969718996785659</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SeOH1Kz8UmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qkK4aaGfyZ0/S220/Valerie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1178373528315346638.post-3762898770209052125</id><published>2009-04-24T20:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T14:57:15.869-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grandkids'/><title type='text'>Big Bad Brody Boo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Nonnie's&lt;/span&gt; big boy. When I say big, I mean big! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328431836814681234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 232px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SfJkhjs4pJI/AAAAAAAAADg/-LFUgu1ofrM/s320/Brody+Boo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Big Dimples&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328435701873694914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 260px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SfJoCiKw2MI/AAAAAAAAAEI/t_0Xncs4UoQ/s320/DSC_0769.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Big CURLS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328433791650823282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 278px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SfJmTWCI_HI/AAAAAAAAADw/ZZU4t3Qk8kw/s320/DSC_0791.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt; Big, Big SMILE &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328437795694270242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 313px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 312px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SfJp8aQfVyI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/jN0_CVOWApc/s320/DSC_0148.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Big Brother&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328437798388193938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 345px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 356px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SfJp8kSxWpI/AAAAAAAAAEY/io3zuJyjd5E/s320/DSC_0154.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&amp;amp; Big Sister!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;These are all of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;grandkiddo's&lt;/span&gt; and I love them very, very much. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Sometimes I wish I could go back to being a kid, the freedom you have to play to your hearts content. I would love to have that freedom, no stress, no worries. Playing all day, sleeping till the sun comes up..... I know, kids don't sleep after the sun comes up, like me they get up before the sun. This is my dream after all. Do you every just daydream and think about the would of, could of and should &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;of's,&lt;/span&gt; of days gone by. Or not just that, when you flip through a magazine or if your like me and watch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;HGTV&lt;/span&gt;, it's the dreaming and thinking "wow, I want my room to look like that" or "I bet I can get my yard to look like that." Or if you can really relate, you have 900 projects going at the same time. I can have a project going in 3 different rooms and be working in all 3 rooms at the same time, and to top that off, the wheels are turning in my head for the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; room. If you know of a cure, let me know. ;o) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1178373528315346638-3762898770209052125?l=valeriespieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/feeds/3762898770209052125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/2009/04/big-bad-brody-boo.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default/3762898770209052125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default/3762898770209052125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/2009/04/big-bad-brody-boo.html' title='Big Bad Brody Boo'/><author><name>Valerie's Pieces</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00251969718996785659</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SeOH1Kz8UmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qkK4aaGfyZ0/S220/Valerie.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SfJkhjs4pJI/AAAAAAAAADg/-LFUgu1ofrM/s72-c/Brody+Boo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1178373528315346638.post-2990536081598000362</id><published>2009-04-21T23:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T23:45:00.846-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MS150'/><title type='text'>My First Post EVER!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Well, this is my very first post. I don't really know what I am doing, but I'm going to do it, say it and post it. I have totally enjoyed reading other blogs, it's weird, but I feel like I am getting to know everyone that I am reading about, like my wonderful web designer Sara, I read Sara's blog and felt a connection. Don't know how, or why, I just do. Daily I would come back to her blog looking for her latest post. When she is away for a couple of days and not posting, I would hope that everything was okay. Then there is little Stellan I read about on a friends blog, and I go back daily hoping and praying that he is out of the hospital and doing well, but find out that he has been transferred to another hospital. So I find myself wondering how is it that we feel this connection with people that we have never even spoken a word to, not even know what they sound like. It's just weird to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to other events that I have just recently participated in and the actual purpose of my post, my very, very first post, is the MS150. A totally wonderful experience. I actually rode two different years, the first I rode as far as LaGrange and the second time I FINISHED. It was totally an experience I will never feel again. I meand really, if you knew me, you would be impressed. I am more the creative type, not the physical type. I really admire people who can get out there and exert all the energy that it takes to ride 186 miles in the heat, with wind gusting so hard that when you peddle you go no where, or when your coming up to a hill and it looks like a mountain. I think those people ROCK! Then you have my type, the type who loves to help out, volunteer (and you know, that ride wouldn't happen without volunteers!) I can't tell you how satisfying it is to help, if your my type you understand. When the riders come up and tell you how much they appreciate it and you tell them thanks for riding for such a good cause, you just know your doing the right thing. Then you see a friend, and with her is someone who used to be a good friend and tell them how hard you have been working, because being a friend you know they know your type, and the someone who used to be a good friend looks at their little heart monitor on their arm and with a go to hades look on their face makes you feel like your not doing anything because face it, they just rode 70 something miles. I'm telling you right now, that because I have been on both sides of the fence as a rider and as a volunteer, I couldn't tell you which was more exhausting. I guess the riders will think theirs is and the volunteers will think their jobs are, but when your standing, bending, walking, picking up trash, picking up 40 pound bags of ice, slicing over a 1,000 oranges, refilling ice chest with jugs of water, and totally on your feet from 7:00 to 6:00 with just you and a few friends taking care of literally thousands of riders, well I think I'm leaning towards the volunteers. What I am trying to say, is that it is amazing how the look on one person's face can make you feel. I would of made a snide remark to her, but she's just not worth it. I found as I get older, and I do mean older. I just don't have time in my life for negative people. I just don't. I love my family, my lord, my friends and people who I read their blogs. I can offer words of advice, but you don't have to follow it ;o) but I promise you, I would never look at you like your job, whatever it might be, is useless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I can figure out how to post a few pictures, they will be below this post. If not, I'm sorry, I'm just a newbie at this. Have a blessed day and please come back and visit. ;o) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327339379256790034" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Se6C8KKNDBI/AAAAAAAAADA/xjFsFBCxpdE/s320/DSC_0035.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327336787232549554" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Se6AlSHd6rI/AAAAAAAAAC4/pJrQ7Z6fosM/s320/DSC_0014_edited-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Wow, I did it. Okay, the top picture is my son Dylan slicing oranges, he's going to kill me when he sees that I posted the one with him in an apron. ;o) In the next picture is my son Dylan, me, my good friend Pam and her LOVELY daughter Ashley. Pam loves to volunteer at this event and has done so with me for several years. Isn't Ashley beautiful, she is a beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. I love that girl, I have know Ashley for about 20 somethng years, she was just around 5 when I meet her. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Se6F1DTG7rI/AAAAAAAAADQ/9wb_f1BFgQk/s1600-h/DSC_0042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 341px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327342555690888882" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Se6F1DTG7rI/AAAAAAAAADQ/9wb_f1BFgQk/s320/DSC_0042.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my friend Denetta and her husband Paul. She looks happy doesn't she. I think it was because she found me. hehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Se6GxkbygaI/AAAAAAAAADY/BcayuhtQDNQ/s1600-h/DSC_0026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327343595377820066" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Se6GxkbygaI/AAAAAAAAADY/BcayuhtQDNQ/s320/DSC_0026.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here I am with Chris (from the Netherlands, impressive isn't it) Kim, Shelly, myself (we work for Seyfarth) and Arno (a client).  Chris is Arno's brother, they both rode for Team Seyfarth.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, that's all for tonight.  I think I did rather well for my first post, don't you?  ;o)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1178373528315346638-2990536081598000362?l=valeriespieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/feeds/2990536081598000362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-first-post-ever.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default/2990536081598000362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1178373528315346638/posts/default/2990536081598000362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://valeriespieces.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-first-post-ever.html' title='My First Post EVER!'/><author><name>Valerie's Pieces</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00251969718996785659</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/SeOH1Kz8UmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/qkK4aaGfyZ0/S220/Valerie.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PCzwwcsSYbo/Se6C8KKNDBI/AAAAAAAAADA/xjFsFBCxpdE/s72-c/DSC_0035.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
