<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Wed, 09 Dec 2009 22:00:57 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>Chris and Danielle Harris</title><description></description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>71</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-5067541581246741671</guid><pubDate>Tue, 17 Nov 2009 00:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-16T20:21:53.602-05:00</atom:updated><title>Candid Comments</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SwH3FnhUmZI/AAAAAAAAAv0/BQ6-Co0GJFU/s1600/matthew+09:10+class.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Last school year I had an abnormally large amount of creepy and gross kids and parents who would shock me. Think back to creepy dad with no semblance of personal space, sweaty dad (even in December), "I believe in killer whales" child, I will wash off the math game piece I dropped in the toilet and put it back child, and so forth. This year I have such an awesome class, that I feel I am being repaid for my sufferings last year. I still crack up at some of my students' comments and doings and am so glad they just keep on coming. It seriously is one of the best things about teaching to me. Anyway, with these cute kids, I don't have so many gross or weird stories as just funny ones. (Why is it so much funner to post the former kind?) Here are some of my recent favorites anyway:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. On making a list about places that are special to them, one student wrote: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Disneyland, school, Adventure Island, church - because I'm supposed to like it and if I don't God with PUNISH me! The bathroom is also special to me because everyone needs some privacy you know."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. I have 3 students who spend part of their day with a specialist because they have some learning disabilities. One of them has a bit of autism along with some other things, and this kid has become one of my favorites. He is draining because he has to be refocused every three seconds, but he cracks me up. One day he couldn't do what we were doing so he was drawing a mask instead. He colored it with markers and was very proud. He asked for some tape, but when I told him I wasn't going to let him tape it to his face, he took matters into his own hands. When I wasn't looking, he went to the sink and doused his face in water to make the mask stick. I felt a tap on my back and a, "Mrs. Hawwis..." (which is how he says my name). When I turned around I saw this&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SwH3FnhUmZI/AAAAAAAAAv0/BQ6-Co0GJFU/s320/matthew+09:10+class.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404872703701457298" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 126px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The marker bled through the wet paper, covering his entire face in marker. He didn't seem to mind though and even wanted to see the picture I took on the camera. His reaction to seeing himself was, "Oh, so funny!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I had to scrub this poor kids face with soap until it was red to get all the marker off. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;3. Same kid as above... We are finishing a test when this child comes back from his special class. I tell him to grab a book to read for a couple minutes. The class is totally silent when he YELLS, "Ha Ha, HE FARTED! Oh my gosh, ew, look at the fart. I can see it, look!" He was reading a book called Walter the Farting Dog. As you can imagine, my whole class erupts in laughter. I do too, so what are you gonna do? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;There's a bunch more, but I can't think of them right now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/792794516010621701-5067541581246741671?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/11/candid-comments.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SwH3FnhUmZI/AAAAAAAAAv0/BQ6-Co0GJFU/s72-c/matthew+09:10+class.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-8342927801079243707</guid><pubDate>Thu, 29 Oct 2009 01:16:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-28T21:49:48.507-04:00</atom:updated><title>Baby Shower and School Stuff</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My sister -in-law, Camie, Is due with a baby boy on Nov. 10th (the Marine Core's b-day which Mike is seriously excited about) and I thought it would be fun to throw her a shower! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We ate tons of food, played a couple games, and watched Camie open some great gifts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SujvkujB_tI/AAAAAAAAAvs/0zknmZxNScM/s1600-h/IMG_0663.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Suju_BWtC9I/AAAAAAAAAvk/CF-DBQpV8gk/s1600-h/IMG_0700.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Suju_BWtC9I/AAAAAAAAAvk/CF-DBQpV8gk/s320/IMG_0700.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397826919866371026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Suju--_ZunI/AAAAAAAAAvc/QQdKX4PbnXc/s1600-h/IMG_0701.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 252px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Suju--_ZunI/AAAAAAAAAvc/QQdKX4PbnXc/s320/IMG_0701.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397826919231765106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Her husband, Mike, made a guest appearance and brought their daughter, Calla, since a lot of people there hadn't met her yet. She is going to be a cute big sister once she realizes she has a brother! Right now she kisses the "ball" in Camie's tummy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Suju-srCIbI/AAAAAAAAAvU/wNgWZjKgKno/s1600-h/IMG_0704.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Suju-srCIbI/AAAAAAAAAvU/wNgWZjKgKno/s320/IMG_0704.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397826914314494386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SujugtxQVxI/AAAAAAAAAvM/Vjse4xpaDt4/s1600-h/IMG_0702.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 232px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SujugtxQVxI/AAAAAAAAAvM/Vjse4xpaDt4/s320/IMG_0702.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397826399212951314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SujugS0hZ8I/AAAAAAAAAvE/4mkp8PLlYws/s1600-h/IMG_0703.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SujugS0hZ8I/AAAAAAAAAvE/4mkp8PLlYws/s320/IMG_0703.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397826391978895298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This wasn't nearly all the gifts yet! She's a lucky girl! (Oh yeah, her son is a lucky boy too :))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SujugAQ9InI/AAAAAAAAAu8/PM4oVln6dQk/s1600-h/IMG_0699.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SujugAQ9InI/AAAAAAAAAu8/PM4oVln6dQk/s320/IMG_0699.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397826386997879410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The invites&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SujufbWZniI/AAAAAAAAAus/WggffX27U_Q/s1600-h/IMG_0650.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SujufbWZniI/AAAAAAAAAus/WggffX27U_Q/s320/IMG_0650.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397826377088605730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SujvkujB_tI/AAAAAAAAAvs/0zknmZxNScM/s320/IMG_0663.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397827567652830930" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;On a totally different note, my class has been awesome so far! I am having a really good time with them this year. I am feeling so lucky! This doesn't mean there aren't days where I think they are all crazy, but it's such huge difference from last year! We read this cute book called, Glad Monster, Sad Monster. Each page describes a feeling and things that make the monster feel that way. Then there are masks for each emotion for the kids to put on and tell what makes them feel that way. At first they were embarrassed to do it, but soon every child wanted a turn. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SujtwQQ__iI/AAAAAAAAAuk/G6bsm1VOLhk/s1600-h/IMG_0693.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 304px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SujtwQQ__iI/AAAAAAAAAuk/G6bsm1VOLhk/s320/IMG_0693.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397825566659313186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SujtwLKDW5I/AAAAAAAAAuc/caFrWhBmoUA/s1600-h/IMG_0695.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 167px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SujtwLKDW5I/AAAAAAAAAuc/caFrWhBmoUA/s320/IMG_0695.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397825565287996306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sujtv65g19I/AAAAAAAAAuU/qw4WQtAzAJg/s1600-h/IMG_0692.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 269px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sujtv65g19I/AAAAAAAAAuU/qw4WQtAzAJg/s320/IMG_0692.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397825560923658194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I was surprised how much I learned about each kid during this. Some have horrible siblings that ignore them or injure them, some have parents who are ill a lot, many of the kids have had bad experiences in water, and some just wanted attention. I have to say that I am scared for the day when my future kids go to school because kids spill dirt like no other! No shame and nothing sacred. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I have several things I do to promote good behavior as a class and as individuals. As a group they try to get pebbles from one jar to another by following directions, being really quiet, or just doing something good. Once they earn the whole jar they get a surprise. This time around they got candy to eat while painting some canvas bags that we are going to use to put their center work in. They had a lot of fun doing it. There were a lot of other cute bags but I didn't feel like editing all the faces out of the pictures. I wish I could post my students' pictures because those are the best ones! Oh well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sujtvs4-hhI/AAAAAAAAAuM/TGlIIXTLmh0/s1600-h/IMG_0714.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sujtvs4-hhI/AAAAAAAAAuM/TGlIIXTLmh0/s320/IMG_0714.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397825557163312658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SujtvTYuJeI/AAAAAAAAAuE/SiZq-CQULr0/s1600-h/IMG_0707.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SujtvTYuJeI/AAAAAAAAAuE/SiZq-CQULr0/s320/IMG_0707.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397825550317135330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-8342927801079243707?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/10/baby-shower-and-school-stuff.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Suju_BWtC9I/AAAAAAAAAvk/CF-DBQpV8gk/s72-c/IMG_0700.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-303069685260622860</guid><pubDate>Thu, 08 Oct 2009 01:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-07T22:34:28.407-04:00</atom:updated><title>Murphy's Law &amp; Cracker Country... not together</title><description>&lt;div&gt;I have never believed in Murphy's Law, where everything that can go wrong will, nor do I think people should always whine about how horrible their lives are and give the whole, "woe is me" speech. However...have you ever had days/periods of time where you believe Murphy's Law might really exist? I'm not being totally serious of course, but there are days when I can't believe how many things can really get in the way. My life is ridiculously wonderful so I'll stop here. Just throwing it out there after a very frustrating couple of days which have followed an almost laughable series of events.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just to prove I'm not a downer, here are some pictures of my 2nd graders' field trip to Cracker Country. It is a turn of the century historical site with hands on activities. It was very hot and buggy, but the kids had a really good time despite the fact that I thought they were going to die of hunger since we ate at 12:15 instead of 11:00 as usual. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Making candles&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1ONKC2piI/AAAAAAAAAt8/WVjV_jxkS1Q/s1600-h/IMG_0599.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1ONKC2piI/AAAAAAAAAt8/WVjV_jxkS1Q/s320/IMG_0599.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390050316973942306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1OM27vVsI/AAAAAAAAAt0/CJBXfP3v-bA/s1600-h/IMG_0606.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1OM27vVsI/AAAAAAAAAt0/CJBXfP3v-bA/s320/IMG_0606.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390050311843829442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Inside of one of the old houses they transported here&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1N166pVTI/AAAAAAAAAts/ngAk12SZ6IU/s1600-h/IMG_0616.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1N166pVTI/AAAAAAAAAts/ngAk12SZ6IU/s320/IMG_0616.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390049917775992114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1N1ZHrfcI/AAAAAAAAAtk/GSldd3rcu4g/s1600-h/IMG_0617.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1N1ZHrfcI/AAAAAAAAAtk/GSldd3rcu4g/s320/IMG_0617.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390049908703854018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Making Butter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1N1GCvLeI/AAAAAAAAAtc/jxofSLIxnZc/s1600-h/IMG_0618.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1N1GCvLeI/AAAAAAAAAtc/jxofSLIxnZc/s320/IMG_0618.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390049903582850530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ironing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1N06nLgpI/AAAAAAAAAtU/FlTZMvZBheM/s1600-h/IMG_0628.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 130px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1N06nLgpI/AAAAAAAAAtU/FlTZMvZBheM/s320/IMG_0628.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390049900514476690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Getting the juice out of sugar cane to make into honey&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1NXrvqOHI/AAAAAAAAAtM/3okKIT-gadc/s1600-h/IMG_0634.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1NXrvqOHI/AAAAAAAAAtM/3okKIT-gadc/s320/IMG_0634.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390049398307305586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Train depot&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1NXWJKj4I/AAAAAAAAAtE/7TeoAhBY7gs/s1600-h/IMG_0643.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1NXWJKj4I/AAAAAAAAAtE/7TeoAhBY7gs/s320/IMG_0643.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390049392508702594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A turn of the century house&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1NW1U86YI/AAAAAAAAAs8/Wp0wu79dyCM/s1600-h/IMG_0644.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1NW1U86YI/AAAAAAAAAs8/Wp0wu79dyCM/s320/IMG_0644.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390049383699769730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The kids were worn out after just trying some chores for a few hours! I think it was good for them. Too bad most went home to video games.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-303069685260622860?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/10/murphys-law-cracker-country-not.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Ss1ONKC2piI/AAAAAAAAAt8/WVjV_jxkS1Q/s72-c/IMG_0599.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-2016176336917016742</guid><pubDate>Wed, 16 Sep 2009 01:44:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-15T22:10:41.743-04:00</atom:updated><title>Nothing to Report</title><description>I want to post...I really do. I just have nothing interesting to say. What this means is no pictures and some unrelated bullet points.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*I celebrated my birthday a week ago. Despite the fact that it was really great and my family and friends treated me like a queen, this is the first year I have felt older than I want to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*I got to go shopping to spend birthday money. It is depressing how expensive some stores are. You go thinking you have gift cards and are going to get tons of great stuff. When you walk out, you are excited about your two purchases but bummed you had to chip in extra money to cover the cost of the said two items. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*I wish I lived somewhere where I could wear the cute fall clothes I bought. I can't wear them here for another 2 months at least.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*School is going really good. I have both hard and easy kids, but overall they are fun to be around. Three of my students (along with some from each of the other 2nd grade teachers) were put in a newly made second grade class because of our larger sizes. I was sad to lose them but happy to have a more manageable class size! Plus I lost all boys, so now I'm at 7 girls 10 boys! They were going to make me give 2 girls and a boy but I fought them on that one!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*The new teacher for the 2nd grade class came from another grade that had too few students. She is starting to bug me with her comments like, "Oh, your student's parent would be in the office first thing Monday morning if she knew I was moving up to 2nd. She would want me to be her kid's teacher!" or "I don't like that these parents are treating me with hostility like I'm some first year teacher. I just tell them, I've been teaching for 12 years thank you very much." Sorry if this sounds mean...I'm just tired of listening to her talk about her greatness. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*I am really struggling lately with the desire to eat healthy. I am usually pretty good about this but all I seem to feel like eating is stuff that is not good for me. I am trying to work out hard to off set this, but I think I'm losing that one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*I need some good books to read. I am re-reading things now which I like to do, but really want to read something new. Any suggestions?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*I'm going to San Diego for Christmas this year and can't wait to meet my new niece, Chloe. My sister really needs to stop having her children in the first 2 weeks or so of the school year. I'd like to meet one of the munchkins before they are 4 months old! I can't wait to kiss her squishy cheeks!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Okay, enough bullet points. Is it obvious yet I have nothing to say? At least I don't have to feel guilty about not posting.&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/792794516010621701-2016176336917016742?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-want-to-post.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-3527963524977335474</guid><pubDate>Thu, 03 Sep 2009 22:01:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-03T18:36:39.158-04:00</atom:updated><title>Potpourri</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;There is something about the word potpourri that I like. Maybe it's that I think of something that smells good, but I'm really just using it to show a bunch of random stuff that I have been meaning to post, but haven't. Whatever it is about the word, here is a bunch of random stuff I have been meaning to post, but haven't. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Our 7th Anniversary&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;August 23, 2002&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-7asGvLI/AAAAAAAAAsw/H22g_BexmvE/s1600-h/sc00025eeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-7asGvLI/AAAAAAAAAsw/H22g_BexmvE/s320/sc00025eeb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377367145577888946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-7HwScTI/AAAAAAAAAso/hvN36AqVqhQ/s1600-h/sc00024394.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 208px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-7HwScTI/AAAAAAAAAso/hvN36AqVqhQ/s320/sc00024394.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377367140495159602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;August 2009&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Dinner at Shulas, a steak house in Tampa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-r-ydR_I/AAAAAAAAAsg/2Yfnd9LiUxg/s1600-h/IMG_0526.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-r-ydR_I/AAAAAAAAAsg/2Yfnd9LiUxg/s320/IMG_0526.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377366880390301682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;They put this cheesy sign on our table&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-rvABTyI/AAAAAAAAAsY/lKcV_M2naOU/s1600-h/IMG_0524.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-rvABTyI/AAAAAAAAAsY/lKcV_M2naOU/s320/IMG_0524.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377366876152221474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Shula was a football coach in FL, so the steak part of the menu is on footballs. Kinda weird for an upscale restaurant. Good steaks though, so I will overlook this fact.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-rINE-5I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/NcMT938D4a4/s1600-h/IMG_0525.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-rINE-5I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/NcMT938D4a4/s320/IMG_0525.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377366865738005394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Dinner to celebrate our friend Craig's birthday. It was a really fun night with friends. Notice that Camie and I aren't sitting next to our husbands. I guess when you have been married for a while you realize that sometimes it is fun for the guy to sit next to the guy and the girl next to the girl. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-qiva3sI/AAAAAAAAAsI/I3GURrkzsH8/s1600-h/IMG_0563.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-qiva3sI/AAAAAAAAAsI/I3GURrkzsH8/s320/IMG_0563.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377366855681498818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Only in the south does the Elders Quorum have a shooting activity. The guys were ridiculously excited and insisted that the women come along. I did not grow up around guns, and to be honest, had never even held one. After much whining and begging, Chris convinced me to come. Thus, I now have shot a gun. Chris asked, with a huge smile on his face if I liked it. Sorry to disappoint, but I couldn't figure out what the big deal was. I had fun with all the friends though!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The guys had a Osama Bin Laden poster made as a target.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-Ekt_UKI/AAAAAAAAAsA/Rv5BCr0SaJ0/s1600-h/IMG_0541.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-Ekt_UKI/AAAAAAAAAsA/Rv5BCr0SaJ0/s320/IMG_0541.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377366203377340578" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;Clark and Mike getting ready.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-EFQMk5I/AAAAAAAAAr4/dp3WvY8wfjk/s1600-h/IMG_0528.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-EFQMk5I/AAAAAAAAAr4/dp3WvY8wfjk/s1600-h/IMG_0528.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-EFQMk5I/AAAAAAAAAr4/dp3WvY8wfjk/s320/IMG_0528.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377366194930881426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is what the girls spent some of the time doing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-D0DwSvI/AAAAAAAAArw/WkiypL22ljY/s1600-h/IMG_0531.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-D0DwSvI/AAAAAAAAArw/WkiypL22ljY/s320/IMG_0531.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377366190315293426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I love this picture of a pregnant Camie shooting a gun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-DSMp90I/AAAAAAAAAro/jhwGbJECMRA/s1600-h/IMG_0540.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-DSMp90I/AAAAAAAAAro/jhwGbJECMRA/s320/IMG_0540.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377366181225822018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here I am trying to look like I know what I'm doing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA9vBzfypI/AAAAAAAAArg/zUrKtveOzQA/s1600-h/IMG_0547.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA9vBzfypI/AAAAAAAAArg/zUrKtveOzQA/s320/IMG_0547.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377365833227946642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Chris taking aim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA9u99PReI/AAAAAAAAArY/6GpstZ0gawc/s1600-h/IMG_0555.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA9u99PReI/AAAAAAAAArY/6GpstZ0gawc/s320/IMG_0555.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377365832195065314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Craig looking tough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA9uQCBTUI/AAAAAAAAArQ/iIMZVqSC_9s/s1600-h/IMG_0551.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA9uQCBTUI/AAAAAAAAArQ/iIMZVqSC_9s/s320/IMG_0551.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377365819867090242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Some of the guys being way too excited to hold guns. Unfortunately since this day all they talk about is guns. It's really annoying for someone like me who knows nothing...and doesn't want to know anything about them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA9uAoD89I/AAAAAAAAArI/Jh66NIWRiho/s1600-h/IMG_0557.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA9uAoD89I/AAAAAAAAArI/Jh66NIWRiho/s320/IMG_0557.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377365815731680210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Tada! Potpourri is finished and hopefully still smells sweet!&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/792794516010621701-3527963524977335474?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/09/potpourri.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SqA-7asGvLI/AAAAAAAAAsw/H22g_BexmvE/s72-c/sc00025eeb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-6739574858317576860</guid><pubDate>Sat, 29 Aug 2009 03:20:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-28T23:58:10.605-04:00</atom:updated><title>Back to school...I mean work</title><description>My first week of going back to work is over and I am TIRED! The first week of school takes a lot of energy and time. I had to make sure my classroom looked perfect (which required manual labor), I had to smile big for the parents and new students, prepare labels, info sheets to fill out, welcome letters, and an open house slide show that the parents didn't even get to watch, and...oh yeah, prepare lesson plans!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Luckily I didn't have any overly creepy or sweaty dads like last year, nor did I have parents flat out tell me how awful their child is like last year, so I'm feeling pretty lucky. I am, however, the designated teacher for children with learning disabilities and developmental or behavior issues. This has been interesting as those students cannot do most of what I have been doing so far but would rather visit the restroom 16 times or spin in circles while sitting or walking in line. Luckily they will start getting pulled out for part of the day by a resource teacher for some subjects, so things should go smoother. One of those little guys has not sat still for an instant since I met him and likes to stand up and yell out random noises or words. So I'm not trying to be mean by wanting to pawn these kids off, they just need to be in a small group to get the help they (and I) deserve. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have found myself watching my students and comparing them to classes of years past. Every year it amazes me how different each class is and that they take on a personality. I really like these kids so far and realize how much I love teaching. It just feels good to be back in the classroom with a new group of kids who are so eager to love you and be loved. Their desire for me to acknowledge and like them is literally visible. I got two apples on the first day of school from a couple students which was pretty cute. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There have been some observations I can't help making.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. More than half my students have a different last name than their parent(s). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. My class/school has changed drastically in our ethnicity make up just in the years I have been teaching there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. More than 2/3 of the parents did not buy the school supplies on the list they were given. Yet only about 1/4 didn't bring any in at all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Every day I feel a huge range of emotions/moods. each day I can be really happy and am laughing but at some point am also breathing deeply to keep my cool. (Is that healthy?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. I have yet to discipline one girl in my class but that is not exactly the case for the boys. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. I have had more boys than girls in my class every year I have ever taught...including preschool. I really hope I'm not one of those moms someday that has 6 boys because I keep trying for at least one girl. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. I love listening to 7 year old conversations. One student this morning told a boy in his group that his mom must be really rich because he bought a new school shirt and had truck erasers with wheels that really spin. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, enough school talk. For now at least...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-6739574858317576860?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/08/back-to-schooli-mean-work.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-5619009654045420259</guid><pubDate>Sat, 15 Aug 2009 21:27:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-15T18:55:10.363-04:00</atom:updated><title>Tutoring Tots</title><description>The new school year starts for me on Monday since teachers go back early. I am actually excited to get back to the grind despite the fact that I found out as of right now I have 12 boys and 5 girls, not to mention I am the designated home room for 2nd graders with learning disabilities. So far that is 5 of the 12 boys. I am confident though that after last year it couldn't be worse... well almost confident. &lt;div&gt;    I have spent the summer tutoring and have really enjoyed it. I tutored three 4 year old girls separately and a 9 year old boy. There were many times when I had to bite back a laugh. Here are some of my favorites:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4 year old&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. N: (Big smile on her face) You know what? When my dog Boris dies I get to have a little puppy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: Oh, but that will be sad when Boris dies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;N: (Shrugs her shoulders) Yeah, but Boris is really old and I really want a new puppy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4 year old&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Me: Okay, we're going to pick a word from the book and write some words that rhyme with it. How about...Duck (the whole book was about ducks in my defense.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;L: Hmmm, Luck!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: Great job, sound it out and write it down. How about another one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;L: (looks up in the air) Ummmm..... Tuck! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: Awesome! Can you think of any more. (In my head I'm thinking "Puck" or "Suck".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;L: (Thinking really, really hard, then YELLS) F... (yes, she did and was so proud.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A lesson totally learned! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9 year old boy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Me: (After reading a sci fi book) We're writing a story about what you would do if you had a clone of yourself. What would you have your clone do for you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;J: Beat up my older sisters. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: okay, well its your story.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4 year old&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. E: Miss Danielle, don't go! I will come live with you! I want to go in your car! Or you can live with me! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: What about my husband? He might miss me if I live with you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E: No, he's fine. You can sleep in my room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's a bunch more, but I can't think of them right now. They were so stinking cute and I'm glad I got to do this this summer!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-5619009654045420259?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/08/lessons-in-tutoring.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-2713347603851387324</guid><pubDate>Tue, 11 Aug 2009 16:21:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-11T12:48:36.666-04:00</atom:updated><title>Seriously Spoiled</title><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Chris and I will be celebrating our 7th wedding anniversary later this month. Normally women wait to redo their wedding rings at least until their 10 year anniversary, but when you're married to a jeweler...there has to be some benefits right? I think so. I told Chris I am a walking advertisement for his business so getting a new wedding ring will be an investment! You've got to give me points for trying. Well, I am feeling seriously spoiled because I got part of my new wedding ring last weekend! I say part because even though I am normally not high maintenance, when given permission to get a new ring, I decided to get one I really wanted so we are doing this in stages. I realize this makes me sound horrible, but I'm willing to live with those consequences. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The picture below is my new engagement ring minus the huge rock in the middle. We are putting my original diamond in the setting (for now). :) It is very sparkly!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SoGbt0PcbiI/AAAAAAAAArA/ND__DN5Kw3o/s1600-h/diamonds.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 233px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SoGbt0PcbiI/AAAAAAAAArA/ND__DN5Kw3o/s320/diamonds.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368743442222181922" /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; display: inline !important; "&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SoGbt0PcbiI/AAAAAAAAArA/ND__DN5Kw3o/s1600-h/diamonds.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SoGbt0PcbiI/AAAAAAAAArA/ND__DN5Kw3o/s1600-h/diamonds.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;This is the wedding band that matches it. I have the ring above and the band below.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SoGbtuMB6HI/AAAAAAAAAq4/jo9TzSRipUQ/s1600-h/PPSP1-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SoGbtuMB6HI/AAAAAAAAAq4/jo9TzSRipUQ/s1600-h/PPSP1-1.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SoGbtuMB6HI/AAAAAAAAAq4/jo9TzSRipUQ/s320/PPSP1-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368743440597248114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;These next two pictures are what's going to be added at a later date. I have always loved the look of stackable rings and in fact wanted only stackables for my new ring, but Chris couldn't get over the fact that I wouldn't have a solitaire. So, what I decided was to do both! I'm going to have two rose gold micro pave bands that will go on each side of the two bands above. The rose gold is softer than yellow gold and looks really good with my new setting. It creates a new design when they are all together.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 207px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SoGbVt4PJdI/AAAAAAAAAqw/EOzvs37kS7I/s320/_5519986.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368743028197369298" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is what my solitaire will eventually look like. I love the look of pave diamonds around a round cut diamond. This will replace my original princess cut diamond eventually. I'm a patient girl!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SoGbKvADs0I/AAAAAAAAAqo/XvEVM8kMNRs/s1600-h/R-1367.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 104px; height: 98px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SoGbKvADs0I/AAAAAAAAAqo/XvEVM8kMNRs/s320/R-1367.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368742839520047938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So, thank you, thank you dear husband for being so generous! I promise I'll pass out more of your business cards! And dear friends, don't think of me as shallow, but a wife just looking to promote her husband's business! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-2713347603851387324?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/08/seriously-spoiled.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SoGbt0PcbiI/AAAAAAAAArA/ND__DN5Kw3o/s72-c/diamonds.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-5656389133119686799</guid><pubDate>Sun, 26 Jul 2009 02:52:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-25T23:36:01.351-04:00</atom:updated><title>Emotional Roller Coaster Ride</title><description>I wish I could say I haven't posted in awhile because I have been doing too many fun things to keep up with. Unfortunately that is not the case! I have had a week full of ups and downs. I usually like roller coasters, but the emotional ones really stink! &lt;div&gt;To keep it short and non-gruesome...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- I was supposed to have surgery to remove a septum dividing my uterus on Tuesday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-My mom arrived in Tampa Sunday night to help me with the surgery.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I was called Monday morning by the hospital to tell me my insurance had not sent an approval.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-This was a shock to me since I already paid my co-pay for the surgery 2 weeks before.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I am told by my insurance that my surgery had been denied. "Didn't you get the letter we sent Thursday?" No, no I didn't (and still haven't gotten this so called letter.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I am told by others in my Dr.'s office that it was all a mistake. Wrong insurance linked to my ID. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Am told it will all go through fine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I stay on my liquid diet since I will still get my surgery.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Am told, oops, it is denied after all. The insurance Dr. did not find it "medically necessary."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-They want to talk to my Dr. who is out of town until the night before my surgery.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I cry. I need the surgery.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I do all I can to get ahold of my Dr. and finally do as he is getting off his plane. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-He can't do anything until the next day because everything is pretty much closed, but assures me he will talk to the insurance and straighten in all out so I can have surgery the next week. (He only does surgery on Tuesdays.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I sadly remind him my mom is in town and is leaving before then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-30 mins. later I am told there is a slight possibility if the Dr. can convince the insurance I in fact need this very necessary surgery, they can squeeze me in on Thursday. Fingers were crossed, prayers were said!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-My mom and I wait at the kitchen table until 12:30 Tuesday afternoon for a phone call.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-The surgery is on for Thursday! It only took my Dr. 5 mins on the phone with the insurance to convince them...or threaten them!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I get to eat/drink liquids for yet another day before surgery.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I go to the hospital on Thursday for my surgery.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-While I get admitted the nice lady tells me that she doesn't see an insurance authorization on her screen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Chris and I look at each other like we have been slapped in the face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-She calls the Dr.'s office and gets an authorization number.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-She tells us she still needs to verify this with my insurance.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-My hopes for having the surgery begin to fall...again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-While on hold, she tells us we also owe money for the surgery.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Luckily by now I am smart enough to carry every last bit of info on me and I happen to have a receipt which I promptly produce.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-As I am prepped for surgery, I am still waiting for someone to burst through the door to tell me that they are so sorry, but I cannot have this surgery.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Happily this does not happen and after talking to Chris and my mom and a slew of doctors, I am wheeled in and having surgery!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-After recovering in a haze for awhile and losing the liquid in my stomach on the way home, I am now feeling great and am so happy it is over with!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-The Dr. found some extra things we didn't know about and was able to take care of those and the septum. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-After a horrible roller coaster ride, I am feeling very grateful for an amazing doctor, a doting husband, a loving and hard working mother, many great friends, and tons of others who couldn't be with me but were praying for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess this didn't fall into the "short" category I was hoping for, but hopefully it wasn't gruesome. I have pictures and a DVD of the surgery for that! Just so you don't feel too bad for me, the extra days of feeling good before surgery gave my mom and I some more shopping days that we took full advantage of. Also, my recovery has been so great, that we were able to sit and pump out around 40 homemade cards. I guess that covers my week!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-5656389133119686799?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/07/emotional-roller-coaster-ride.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-5214540060249935221</guid><pubDate>Mon, 13 Jul 2009 00:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-12T21:00:06.010-04:00</atom:updated><title>No More Bachelorette Parties For Me</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A good friend of mine is getting married soon and in keeping with the typical tradition of excited brides-to-be, she had a bachelorette party. Me, having gotten married a little earlier than average and having some pretty conservative habits, did not have one of these parties, nor have I gone to one because most of my friends have a similar background to mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;You can imagine therefore, my mild apprehension at going, yet I love this friend and wanted to support her. We went to The Columbia restaurant first and watched the flamingo dancers and ate good food. This restaurant has been open since 1905 and has some beautiful architecture and decor. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Slp_MTfk30I/AAAAAAAAAqg/9M9v1MwM--o/s1600-h/IMG_0477.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Slp_MTfk30I/AAAAAAAAAqg/9M9v1MwM--o/s320/IMG_0477.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357734556078497602" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); "&gt;We then went to Channelside where there are lots of restaurants, shops, bars, bowling, and a movie theatre. We hit a couple bars where there was music and dancing. Melissa, the bride, was pulled on stage where she stood uncomfortably for a minute or two, then hurried off. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Slp_L3liJ-I/AAAAAAAAAqY/8AcxZ8QXP_U/s1600-h/IMG_0478.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Slp_L3liJ-I/AAAAAAAAAqY/8AcxZ8QXP_U/s320/IMG_0478.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357734548587292642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We mostly stood around and listened to music, danced a little, and talked a lot. It was definitely an eye opening experience for me as I watched people act stupid and lose control a bit, or a lot. I was the only one not drinking, yet I was not the only one driving. This made me sad and a little more wary about driving late at night. If anything, this night made me grateful for the habits I have grown up with and the more "boring," conservative lifestyle I lead. It was not my cup of tea, but I know that by the world's standards that makes me strange and I'm okay with that. I was glad that I got to go for my friend, but probably won't go to another celebration of a "last free night out."&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/792794516010621701-5214540060249935221?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/07/no-more-bachelorette-parties-for-me.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Slp_MTfk30I/AAAAAAAAAqg/9M9v1MwM--o/s72-c/IMG_0477.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-2248948281572495679</guid><pubDate>Mon, 06 Jul 2009 00:56:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-12T01:10:30.895-04:00</atom:updated><title>Happy 4th of July!</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;Happy 4th &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;of July!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We celebrated our country's freedom by spending time at my In Law's house with family and friends, stuffing ourselves with food, swimming, and playing on the Wii. It was a really fun day to relax and ponder how lucky I am to be an American! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Chris's sister, Camie and her husband Mike are now Floridians, and of course they brought their dog. You might not think that is a big deal except that over the last year or two my husband has decided he wants a dog, and "Bear" is just fueling his fire! He wouldn't put the dog down. Thanks guys. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFR5GTUcUI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/w5w93qIz0EQ/s1600-h/IMG_0437.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFR4xIYKPI/AAAAAAAAAqI/k5eIn3FZx9I/s1600-h/IMG_0444.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFR4xIYKPI/AAAAAAAAAqI/k5eIn3FZx9I/s320/IMG_0444.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355151467623229682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Our friend Craig decided to bring his dog, Waylo along as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFR5GTUcUI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/w5w93qIz0EQ/s320/IMG_0437.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355151473306267970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Mike just hanging out after swimming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFR4pMFfDI/AAAAAAAAAqA/cq1qrmYNBPw/s1600-h/IMG_0448.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFR4pMFfDI/AAAAAAAAAqA/cq1qrmYNBPw/s320/IMG_0448.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355151465491299378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Camie eating some delicious angel food cake with whipped cream and strawberries. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is Camie's signature pose when she's eating food! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFRdkh6RHI/AAAAAAAAAp4/7mOMttrS_8o/s1600-h/IMG_0451.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFRdkh6RHI/AAAAAAAAAp4/7mOMttrS_8o/s320/IMG_0451.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355151000384193650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I decided to make mine look pretty and added blueberries to make it look patriotic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFRdHTtIcI/AAAAAAAAApw/G2ukvLqCUA0/s1600-h/IMG_0452.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFRdHTtIcI/AAAAAAAAApw/G2ukvLqCUA0/s320/IMG_0452.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355150992539984322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Craig had his with some blue topping as we really got into the USA spirit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFRcze_HKI/AAAAAAAAApo/vb5JHV4_oh4/s1600-h/IMG_0454.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFRcze_HKI/AAAAAAAAApo/vb5JHV4_oh4/s320/IMG_0454.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355150987218590882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Mike and our friend Clark striking a pose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFRFNxPO5I/AAAAAAAAApg/iYmEcr_Bn-E/s1600-h/IMG_0453.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFRFNxPO5I/AAAAAAAAApg/iYmEcr_Bn-E/s320/IMG_0453.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355150581957606290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Chris intensely playing Wii.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFRE1rHklI/AAAAAAAAApY/JLGe6ou-xxg/s1600-h/IMG_0455.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFRE1rHklI/AAAAAAAAApY/JLGe6ou-xxg/s320/IMG_0455.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355150575489487442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We tried to cheat on Wii by having someone guide you on one of the games. It didn't really work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFREuNLC5I/AAAAAAAAApQ/tVAacNTgXt0/s1600-h/IMG_0461.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFREuNLC5I/AAAAAAAAApQ/tVAacNTgXt0/s320/IMG_0461.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355150573484837778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Clark didn't want me to mess him up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFQqhk4XeI/AAAAAAAAApI/RmqohNyrqBk/s1600-h/IMG_0459.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFQqhk4XeI/AAAAAAAAApI/RmqohNyrqBk/s320/IMG_0459.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355150123418017250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Calla wanted to play too! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFQpr53g1I/AAAAAAAAApA/IwYIiBj1J0M/s1600-h/IMG_0470.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFQpr53g1I/AAAAAAAAApA/IwYIiBj1J0M/s320/IMG_0470.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355150109010527058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFQoyikt0I/AAAAAAAAAo4/-JcuTB6f3oM/s1600-h/IMG_0472.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFQoyikt0I/AAAAAAAAAo4/-JcuTB6f3oM/s320/IMG_0472.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355150093612005186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-2248948281572495679?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/07/happy-4th-of-july.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SlFR4xIYKPI/AAAAAAAAAqI/k5eIn3FZx9I/s72-c/IMG_0444.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-3149190008982625023</guid><pubDate>Mon, 29 Jun 2009 21:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-29T17:36:36.305-04:00</atom:updated><title>Random Pictures</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I have been staying busy doing "this and that" and have been having a great summer so far.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My regret is not taking more pictures. I have been to the beach and a natural (freezing) spring/park with friends, had book club at my house, had dinner with a bunch of girlfriends while our husbands stayed busy, and saw Transformers 2 in Imax stuffing myself with popcorn just because we got the free refill bucket (thanks Brittany!).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here's one thing I actually snapped a picture or two of. One of the Young Woman I taught has gotten married. She is the first to get married out of her age group, and it was so strange to see this happen! I taught about getting married in the temple, and now here she is doing it. It was beautiful!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SkkvL7Iv6BI/AAAAAAAAAow/Qia3sUBV6wI/s1600-h/IMG_0436.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SkkvL7Iv6BI/AAAAAAAAAow/Qia3sUBV6wI/s320/IMG_0436.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352861514005997586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SkkvLlPtOnI/AAAAAAAAAoo/xYjB-DjDF_Y/s1600-h/IMG_0435.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SkkvLlPtOnI/AAAAAAAAAoo/xYjB-DjDF_Y/s320/IMG_0435.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352861508129602162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SkkvLp2NisI/AAAAAAAAAog/2c5QjNHoO_o/s1600-h/IMG_0434.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SkkvLp2NisI/AAAAAAAAAog/2c5QjNHoO_o/s320/IMG_0434.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352861509364845250" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My mom asked to see my new light fixtures hanging, so this is for her and anyone else who cares. I hated our old light fixtures, and didn't get around to changing them until I accidently broke one while changing the lightbulb. And yes, it really was an accident, not a ploy for a new fixture as my husband still partially believes. I came home with one style of fixture that would go perfect with our house and decorating but Chris hated them. I left them out on the table for about 3 weeks, hoping they would grow on him. Alas, it was not to be, and his distain remained. I traded them for these, a little more modern fixture that I love, but doesn't match my house quite as well. Chris likes them despite the fact that they are way more "out there" than the first ones I picked, go figure.  They are up and we are happy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Lights On&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Skku0Pg9B5I/AAAAAAAAAoY/7etXjOw257A/s1600-h/IMG_0426.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Skku0Pg9B5I/AAAAAAAAAoY/7etXjOw257A/s320/IMG_0426.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352861107159369618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Lights Off&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Skkuj3KtVMI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/1qyhFxJNXvQ/s1600-h/IMG_0430.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Skkuj3KtVMI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/1qyhFxJNXvQ/s320/IMG_0430.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352860825745708226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Next on the list...you can now see that I badly need a curtain for my kitchen window! I know what I want in my head, now I have to find it. Also, let me know if anyone is having a great sale on large area rugs. I need one of those too!&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/792794516010621701-3149190008982625023?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/06/random-pictures.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SkkvL7Iv6BI/AAAAAAAAAow/Qia3sUBV6wI/s72-c/IMG_0436.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-1987661826488773463</guid><pubDate>Mon, 22 Jun 2009 01:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-21T23:07:04.440-04:00</atom:updated><title>Good Old Florida Thunderstorm</title><description>&lt;div&gt;For those of you who have never lived in Florida or the south, you haven't experienced a REAL thunderstorm. We get them big time in the summer. This is a pretty typical thunderstorm for this time of year. You don't get the true effect of it though because the water is so loud by my front door that it drowns out the thunder a bit and it is hard to see the actual size of each massive drop of water. The thunder is so loud it shakes my house though and for the record, the amount of water you see is only from 15 to 20 mins of rain. If you look at the street, you can see the wind blowing the water around. And yes, this is a thunderstorm not a hurricane. We do get those too though. Gotta love Florida. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-5af55161f70a93be" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqAAAAPEbdexZYqODP9Nt5kZfcH1yQS3KVtBwZp8chi9rR8dqv8lOqLdjPTmjf_MA8c1Ta9sEm1Rw0RbalD5NwdAgjHsAatt0XqzX7z7JOU-dMckmdHiWs9VOtQukFzQm9utswqz-pn1-W6YsWaFnUKa-gfsEL2Z0oUFoEmgSbb8H6R4LDd2Ofb-LajLd3BKO-FYOCm4fRc9iammaH5QIlZDoflOGqAFwlqPz5QIRd2o0tObp%26sigh%3DewS3gpfwrllmhDBLXvqnIxrqrT8%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&amp;amp;nogvlm=1&amp;amp;thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5af55161f70a93be%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3DsIGJCM91kbgqwpxS5And_VU9g_Y&amp;amp;messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqAAAAPEbdexZYqODP9Nt5kZfcH1yQS3KVtBwZp8chi9rR8dqv8lOqLdjPTmjf_MA8c1Ta9sEm1Rw0RbalD5NwdAgjHsAatt0XqzX7z7JOU-dMckmdHiWs9VOtQukFzQm9utswqz-pn1-W6YsWaFnUKa-gfsEL2Z0oUFoEmgSbb8H6R4LDd2Ofb-LajLd3BKO-FYOCm4fRc9iammaH5QIlZDoflOGqAFwlqPz5QIRd2o0tObp%26sigh%3DewS3gpfwrllmhDBLXvqnIxrqrT8%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&amp;amp;nogvlm=1&amp;amp;thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5af55161f70a93be%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3DsIGJCM91kbgqwpxS5And_VU9g_Y&amp;amp;messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-1987661826488773463?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><enclosure type='video/mp4' url='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=5af55161f70a93be&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/06/good-old-florida-thunderstorm.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-4154889898396197589</guid><pubDate>Mon, 22 Jun 2009 01:38:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-21T21:51:07.967-04:00</atom:updated><title>Chris and his 2nd Favorite Girl</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'd like to think that I am Chris's favorite girl, but I have a feeling this little one is a close second. This is Calla, our niece. Camie, Mike, and Calla came to visit recently, and we had tons of fun with them. Often times Calla would be comfortably "chilling" in Chris's arms. Even when Camie would offer to take her or put her in a seat, Chris usually refused, saying that he was "just fine." She is too cute for words and I guess I understand why he is so taken with her! :) I happen to like the little princess quite a bit too, but I have to fight to get a moment with her!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sj7iNNHSQOI/AAAAAAAAAoA/fWlGA7AYBqQ/s1600-h/IMG_0422.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sj7iNNHSQOI/AAAAAAAAAoA/fWlGA7AYBqQ/s320/IMG_0422.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349962123849122018" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-4154889898396197589?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/06/chris-and-his-2nd-favorite-girl.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sj7iNNHSQOI/AAAAAAAAAoA/fWlGA7AYBqQ/s72-c/IMG_0422.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-615713753958979833</guid><pubDate>Mon, 22 Jun 2009 01:35:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-21T21:38:22.981-04:00</atom:updated><title>Happy Father's Day!</title><description>I wanted to say Happy Father's Day to mine and Chris's dads before the day was over. They are both wonderful men, and we are lucky to have such strong, good examples in our lives. I know both Chris and I turn to them for advice and a good listening ear. We love you both!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-615713753958979833?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/06/happy-fathers-day.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-4819345696492800684</guid><pubDate>Mon, 15 Jun 2009 21:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-15T18:03:15.420-04:00</atom:updated><title>Break out the Crayons!</title><description>As a way to hold my "summer bliss" guilt at bay I privately tutor 5 to 6 kids over the 2 1/2 month break. A part of me wants to completely veg out and plea that my salary covers the whole year, and honestly, isn't getting the summer off one of the perks of being a teacher? Isn't it one of the reasons we put up with the whining, messes, and everything else that comes with being an elementary school teacher? As much as I want to say yes to all that, I also realize that I would feel lazy and guilty doing nothing, which brings me back to tutoring. I do like to work one on one with kids and be able to focus on their needs since teaching a whole class can be a balancing act. Plus, I'm done by noon and have Fridays off. I won't anger any more full timers out there by continuing to whine.&lt;div&gt;This particular summer I happened to pick up 3 preschoolers in addition to a couple older ones. I admit that the idea of tutoring a 4 year old seems kind of silly, especially since none of their girls are academically low, but hey, if the mothers want to pay me to give their kids an edge, I'm not going to complain! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After my first day with 2 of the 3 preschoolers, I am loving it! There is something so great about teaching these little babies something new! They have the attention span of Dori from Finding Nemo (about 5 minutes)...but luckily I brought a lot of stuff for us to do. We stamped letters, talked about sounds they make, blended a few sounds together, learned what adding and subtracting was, read a couple books, and worked on writing their name without using lowercase and capitals every other letter. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The line I kept hearing every 5 minutes was, "Okay, can we do something else now? I want to pick in your bag." Rummaging ensued with a little guidance from me. I think they thought I was there to play with them, and they are still used to being the boss. I guess I'm used to the second graders who have realized that they don't get much say in what comes next or how long they get to spend on things. I think the "all about me" attitude is kind of funny when it is innocently done. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here's to a great summer of keeping up my teaching skills and getting in a few laughs along the way! Bring on the 4 year olds!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-4819345696492800684?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/06/break-out-crayons.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-7891105059860735357</guid><pubDate>Fri, 05 Jun 2009 01:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-04T21:21:26.201-04:00</atom:updated><title>I Made it Through Another Year!</title><description>In my head the Beetles are singing, "Here Comes the Sun, do do do do." Ahhh, another school year has ended and another summer is before me. We learned, we grew, we annoyed each other (they annoyed me more), we laughed, we worked, and we played. As I hugged my students and wished them a happy summer (and pried Little Creeps arms off me), I found myself already missing many of my students but being okay with not seeing some for a couple months. Harsh, I know, but you would say the same thing if you met them! I feel good about the school year and am again so happy that I get to be a teacher. I am always excited for summer break, but am always ready for a new year to start in August. I feel blessed to be able to teach and interact with these kids and watch them really grow. I think I have one of the most demanding but rewarding jobs! I am already thinking of all the projects and fun things I want to do this summer. Unfortunately, many of the "to do" things on my list are the same as last year. Like cleaning out the garage and painting some rooms in my house. Maybe I'll do those things this time. I do plan to spend time at the beach and hanging out with all my friends. Yeah for summer!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-7891105059860735357?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-made-it-through-another-year.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-1431353691296021360</guid><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jun 2009 01:45:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-05-31T22:04:52.584-04:00</atom:updated><title>So politically incorrect, but so funny!</title><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;One of the things I love about small children is that they can say the most outlandish things, but since they are so naive, it is innocent and hilarious! This is my new favorite one:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This boy in my class is moving to Japan this summer because his dad is military. The other day he walks up to me and with a completely serious face asks, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;"Mrs. Harris, when I come back from Japan, am I going to look like this?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He then proceeds to make his eyes into slits with his fingers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I tried not to choke as I bit back my laugh and told him, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;"No honey, moving to another country will not change what your face looks like." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Looking very relieved, he answers,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;"Oh good, I like my eyes!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Glad I could clear that up for him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-1431353691296021360?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/05/so-politically-incorrect-but-so-funny.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-1374542099819833611</guid><pubDate>Fri, 29 May 2009 00:41:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-05-28T21:29:39.137-04:00</atom:updated><title>Bridal Shower Highs and Lows</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A friend of mine at work is getting married this summer, so another second grade teacher and I threw her a bridal shower at school. Don't look too close at me... nasty Florida weather has hit and all the setting up in humidity took its toll on my appearance! Anyway, the shower went well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8yALQwGCI/AAAAAAAAAn4/ptj3sn0CnSw/s1600-h/IMG_0393.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 204px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8yALQwGCI/AAAAAAAAAn4/ptj3sn0CnSw/s320/IMG_0393.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341042661689137186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I was really proud of the flower arrangement I made for the food table. It can't compare to my mom's skill, but since most people don't arrange flowers, a lot of people were impressed. The pictures don't do it close to justice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8x_9uuOvI/AAAAAAAAAnw/3Guu2PYVq1w/s1600-h/IMG_0406.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8x_9uuOvI/AAAAAAAAAnw/3Guu2PYVq1w/s320/IMG_0406.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341042658056747762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I stole the idea of using cut up lemons and limes from my cousin, Taryn's wedding. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8x_ooowFI/AAAAAAAAAno/sKBSw1uP-08/s1600-h/IMG_0407.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8x_ooowFI/AAAAAAAAAno/sKBSw1uP-08/s320/IMG_0407.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341042652394078290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Okay, so the flowers were one of the "highs" of the shower. Here is the "low": below is one of the table centerpieces I did, but it isn't what I set out to do. It was hard to put together something without breaking the bank, so I had this "brilliant" idea. Her colors are all shades of purple, so I envisioned these hurricanes with the the purple ribbon, purple pebbles, and... I wanted to put a purple Beta fish in each one so that they would be an interesting thing to look at. Unfortunately, I didn't realize Beta fish were $4.50 each, so that wasn't going to happen. I bought 16 .30 cent goldfish instead and was okay with the change. The nice man at Walmart put them in a baggy for me and knotted that baby up. I guess my lack of pets growing up didn't allow me to think clearly about the fact that even though fish live underwater, they still need oxygen. When I opened the baggy in the morning I found that 8 of the fish were dead. Oops. I thought, this is okay because I can still use one in each container. I proceeded to fill the hurricanes with water and yep, dumped the fish in. 10 minutes later they were ALL dead. I knew fish needed chlorine drops, but I was trying to save money and thought they would last about a day without them. I was mistaken. Bad call. Luckily I had brought in the leftover lemons and limes and threw them in instead. I feel a little guilty now that I was not sad at all that I killed 16 fish, but that my plan didn't work out. I know...I'm a cruel, heartless pet hater, sorry. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8xfWuowsI/AAAAAAAAAng/oXDvfEyh5L4/s1600-h/IMG_0392.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 287px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8xfWuowsI/AAAAAAAAAng/oXDvfEyh5L4/s320/IMG_0392.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341042097831592642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I brought the chocolate fountain which was a high and low in and of itself. It was fun and tasted wonderful, but the person who melted the chocolate for me didn't melt it enough, so it was still too thick to run smoothly. Oh well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8xfHk2t9I/AAAAAAAAAnY/j96i0H4z9mU/s1600-h/IMG_0391.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8xfHk2t9I/AAAAAAAAAnY/j96i0H4z9mU/s320/IMG_0391.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341042093764032466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8xe40xbSI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/RhAfOCeouCs/s1600-h/IMG_0390.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8xe40xbSI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/RhAfOCeouCs/s320/IMG_0390.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341042089804262690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We played a game where everyone had to be blindfolded and make a bride out of play dough. It was really hilarious to watch people give the bride eyes on her stomach and a veil coming out of her back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8xGkQMYjI/AAAAAAAAAnI/TBVhAivjzPY/s1600-h/IMG_0396.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8xGkQMYjI/AAAAAAAAAnI/TBVhAivjzPY/s320/IMG_0396.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341041671965270578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The winner was the orange one because if you look closely you can see that she gave the bride huge boobs. That won Melissa over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8xGhwXngI/AAAAAAAAAnA/QQE6W2LgRSI/s1600-h/IMG_0404.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 315px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8xGhwXngI/AAAAAAAAAnA/QQE6W2LgRSI/s320/IMG_0404.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341041671294918146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This was in 2nd because she added her own bling to the bride's finger/arm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8xGGyVKZI/AAAAAAAAAm4/z9sE1ZKiiuU/s1600-h/IMG_0405.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 198px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8xGGyVKZI/AAAAAAAAAm4/z9sE1ZKiiuU/s320/IMG_0405.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341041664055388562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It was a fun shower despite the lows. I guess I shouldn't have told Melissa about the fish because I think I almost made her cry. I guess my laughing while telling it was a little inappropriate. Silly pet lovers. :) &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/792794516010621701-1374542099819833611?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/05/bridal-shower-highs-and-lows.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sh8yALQwGCI/AAAAAAAAAn4/ptj3sn0CnSw/s72-c/IMG_0393.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-250098076519318635</guid><pubDate>Tue, 26 May 2009 03:08:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-05-25T23:27:02.906-04:00</atom:updated><title>Finished Floors</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Our floors are pretty much done and we LOVE them! I am so happy to be rid of our carpet and linoleum. Chris even made the comment that he thinks he can stay here for awhile now. Didn't know life was so rough for him before! It is nice to wake up to new floors though that we really love. I think they match our house well and feel very warm and "homey". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShteqTafqCI/AAAAAAAAAmw/Ag_6w8w2D_c/s1600-h/IMG_0374.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShteqTafqCI/AAAAAAAAAmw/Ag_6w8w2D_c/s320/IMG_0374.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339965864036771874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShteqCu__9I/AAAAAAAAAmo/Jng8vZkjgBk/s1600-h/IMG_0373.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShteqCu__9I/AAAAAAAAAmo/Jng8vZkjgBk/s320/IMG_0373.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339965859559374802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Shtepvz1bqI/AAAAAAAAAmg/cIMmS8xi8-E/s1600-h/IMG_0372.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Shtepvz1bqI/AAAAAAAAAmg/cIMmS8xi8-E/s320/IMG_0372.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339965854479380130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShtepcDNRuI/AAAAAAAAAmY/LrAhbeX0RlA/s1600-h/IMG_0370.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShtepcDNRuI/AAAAAAAAAmY/LrAhbeX0RlA/s320/IMG_0370.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339965849175148258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShtepCcXG_I/AAAAAAAAAmQ/2X6uFD1aC0w/s1600-h/IMG_0375.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShtepCcXG_I/AAAAAAAAAmQ/2X6uFD1aC0w/s320/IMG_0375.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339965842301328370" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;All that's left is to seal the grout and put in the transition pieces. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The bad part about remodeling something is that there is a domino effect. If you shop for flooring, you think about couches that will look better with the new flooring. If you see the perfect couches, you will then wish for matching coffee and side tables. If you see all that, you will start thinking about how all you need now is a new shower...and vanity...and lighting. Yeah, we haven't done any of that, but it wouldn't surprise me if I came home one day from work to find our handy friend ripping out our shower with Chris overlooking it. It feels like something from &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;If you Give a Mouse a Cookie&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-250098076519318635?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/05/finished-floors.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShteqTafqCI/AAAAAAAAAmw/Ag_6w8w2D_c/s72-c/IMG_0374.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-8342460736221322193</guid><pubDate>Mon, 18 May 2009 21:44:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-05-18T18:08:10.908-04:00</atom:updated><title>Finally a Decision!</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is what my house looks like right now and I am excited about it! Some of you may remember a post awhile ago asking for opinions on flooring. Yes, that was a long time ago and we are just now doing this. We ripped up everything except the bedrooms.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHX8xWZ1LI/AAAAAAAAAmI/UxqgAdg-iYw/s1600-h/IMG_0355.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHX8xWZ1LI/AAAAAAAAAmI/UxqgAdg-iYw/s320/IMG_0355.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337284472450176178" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Chris and I couldn't decide/convince each other what flooring to get. All we knew is that we hated our ugly linoleum! He wanted Travertine and I wanted Bamboo. We did travertine in the bathrooms awhile back, but I didn't want it all over. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHX8Y_VpKI/AAAAAAAAAl4/xsAykA2NRTc/s320/IMG_0349.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337284465910981794" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We finally decided that a good compromise for us would be Saltillo Tile. It is tile, which Chris likes and a warm color, which I like. We both like the style of it and thought it would look great with our paint colors. This is our entryway without the grout and still kind of dusty.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHXkaHCvmI/AAAAAAAAAlo/AgJ-WQmda80/s1600-h/IMG_0356.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHXkaHCvmI/AAAAAAAAAlo/AgJ-WQmda80/s320/IMG_0356.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337284053894872674" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We had a friend, Lance lay it last weekend and we love it. Chris and Lance went back to the store to buy more tile today when I get this phone call at work. It is Chris telling me that the store just got in some bamboo in the color I like and it is on sale. He is wanting to know (right then because this is how Chris works) if: I want to do bamboo instead or stick with the saltillo, or do the saltillo in the entryway and kitchen and the bamboo everywhere else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHX8ut8XBI/AAAAAAAAAmA/7YRZV2rKagM/s1600-h/IMG_0352.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHX8ut8XBI/AAAAAAAAAmA/7YRZV2rKagM/s320/IMG_0352.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337284471743601682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;After giving me a minute to think about it, I told him to buy the bamboo and start laying it, and I would come home right after work to see how it looked next to the saltillo. I figured if it didn't look good, then we would just rip up the tile. When I got home I saw that the bamboo didn't look good against our kitchen cabinets, but it has the same tone as the saltillo. So I decided to do the saltillo in the entryway and the kitchen and the bamboo in the living room and dining room. I hope it all looks good!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHX8Y_VpKI/AAAAAAAAAl4/xsAykA2NRTc/s1600-h/IMG_0349.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHXkuTUY4I/AAAAAAAAAlw/AAan6F8a1p4/s1600-h/IMG_0353.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHXkuTUY4I/AAAAAAAAAlw/AAan6F8a1p4/s320/IMG_0353.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337284059315069826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here is all our furniture pilled in the dining room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHXkA0qt-I/AAAAAAAAAlg/0Syyiwe3z4E/s1600-h/IMG_0351.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHXkA0qt-I/AAAAAAAAAlg/0Syyiwe3z4E/s320/IMG_0351.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337284047106914274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A studly worker. Oh, that's my husband!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-8342460736221322193?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/05/finally-decision.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHX8xWZ1LI/AAAAAAAAAmI/UxqgAdg-iYw/s72-c/IMG_0355.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-348121645771437518</guid><pubDate>Mon, 18 May 2009 21:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-05-18T17:44:09.472-04:00</atom:updated><title>Bridal Shower Card</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is mostly for my mom, who I told I would show her a picture of the card. My friend at work is getting married, and the 2nd grade team is throwing her a shower. I made the invitations for it. I thought it turned out pretty cute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHWOzZ66aI/AAAAAAAAAlI/5tBXZvaA-As/s1600-h/IMG_0325.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHWOzZ66aI/AAAAAAAAAlI/5tBXZvaA-As/s320/IMG_0325.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337282583216187810" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHWPPAt1hI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/25781H-lxA8/s1600-h/IMG_0322.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHWPPAt1hI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/25781H-lxA8/s320/IMG_0322.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337282590626666002" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&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/792794516010621701-348121645771437518?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/05/bridal-shower-card.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/ShHWOzZ66aI/AAAAAAAAAlI/5tBXZvaA-As/s72-c/IMG_0325.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-1029913309417572063</guid><pubDate>Mon, 11 May 2009 03:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-05-11T00:10:28.226-04:00</atom:updated><title>Happy Mother's Day to a Wonderful Mother!</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SgeidbP-yjI/AAAAAAAAAlA/aKgthygv1tM/s1600-h/IMG_0090.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SgeidbP-yjI/AAAAAAAAAlA/aKgthygv1tM/s320/IMG_0090.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334410910058334770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My mom, me, and sister Audra&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I happen to think I have an amazing mother and am so thankful and lucky to have her! She is the one I whine to, celebrate with, cry to, laugh with, talk to, shop with (when in town), and love very much. She is greatly responsible for making me the person I am today. I have learned so many skills and other important things that a lot of people my generation were never taught or didn't get to experience. When I become a mother I will look to her example and reflect on how I was raised because I truly admire her and the kind of mother she is.  I know Heavenly Father was inspired to send me to her care. I love you Mom and a huge happy Mother's Day to you! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-1029913309417572063?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/05/happy-mothers-day-to-wonderful-mother.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SgeidbP-yjI/AAAAAAAAAlA/aKgthygv1tM/s72-c/IMG_0090.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-1523561263330106295</guid><pubDate>Mon, 11 May 2009 03:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-05-11T00:17:00.730-04:00</atom:updated><title>My Not So Green Thumb</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I have never been good at keeping plants alive.  In fact, I am always amazed at how quickly I manage to kill them. This is really sad because I really love plants and admire people who's yards are covered in beautiful greens, pinks, purples, and all those other colors that come from plants that they can get to bloom and actually keep alive for more than a week or two.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This being said, it is surprising that every year I still manage to talk myself into having my students plant flowers and paint pots for Mother's Day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I really wish I had taken pictures of Round 1. I thought it would be great to get plants that hadn't bloomed yet a week and a half before Mother's Day so the kids could have the experience of watering them and moving them into the shade/sun daily to watch them grow and bloom. Instead, most of their science logs that I told them to keep looked like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Monday- my plant is about 4 inches high and has 10 leaves. It is green and it's leaves are soft."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Tuesday-my plant doesn't look as good as yesterday. I think it is smaller and the leaves are not so green. They feel dry and it looks ugly." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Wednesday-I think my plant is dying. I watered it, but it's not drinking the water or something. I feel bad for my plant. I don't think any flowers are going to come."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Thursday-I'm glad Mrs. Harris said she is bringing new plants because mine is dead. The leaves are all crispy and brown. It is 1 inch tall now. It shrunk. I'm going to throw it away tomorrow. My mom wouldn't like it."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SgeZuoy1NUI/AAAAAAAAAk4/qvNA239z8Mc/s1600-h/IMG_0289.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SgeZubUPr_I/AAAAAAAAAkw/rOgKkHXvIXM/s1600-h/IMG_0287.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 197px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SgeZubUPr_I/AAAAAAAAAkw/rOgKkHXvIXM/s320/IMG_0287.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334401306529345522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is not round 1, it is round 2. Unfortunately, round 1 did not live to Mother's Day, hence the round 2 flowers that were bought very begrudgingly. Notice I chose a flower this time with very thick stems and leaves and bought them at midnight on Thursday night so they wouldn't have time to die before we planted them Friday morning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SgeZuoy1NUI/AAAAAAAAAk4/qvNA239z8Mc/s320/IMG_0289.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334401310147294530" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I always feel bad blurring my students' faces out, but rules are rules and I want to keep my job. No student's faces can be posted online. Here we are trying this again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SgeZuSbk2NI/AAAAAAAAAko/lutQ6FSZ-XA/s1600-h/IMG_0284.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SgeZuSbk2NI/AAAAAAAAAko/lutQ6FSZ-XA/s320/IMG_0284.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334401304144173266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It's a messy job, but someone's got to do it. I asked a student if he knew how to use a camera so he could take this shot, and he looked at me like, "No duh!" Should have known. If only he were that competent at listening and following directions...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SgeZuJYdKyI/AAAAAAAAAkg/haR8CQO_Cms/s1600-h/IMG_0285.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 224px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SgeZuJYdKyI/AAAAAAAAAkg/haR8CQO_Cms/s320/IMG_0285.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334401301715168034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here is a shot of the painted pots with their new flowers. I have a class picture with all their pots, but it would have been too much blurring. Anyway, although the kids were thrilled to get to plant flowers twice, next year we will be doing something different! I give up on trying to have a green thumb and I don't want to scar my students into thinking that they have the brown thumb curse too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-1523561263330106295?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-not-so-green-thumb.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/SgeZubUPr_I/AAAAAAAAAkw/rOgKkHXvIXM/s72-c/IMG_0287.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-792794516010621701.post-7994208746892985603</guid><pubDate>Mon, 04 May 2009 21:50:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-05-04T20:06:01.583-04:00</atom:updated><title>The Big 30</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf-CkmHUkgI/AAAAAAAAAkY/HGUsasEX3uE/s1600-h/IMG_0283.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:UzssiqchWW6A_M:http://www.hjortur.dk/hjortur/Jon-birthday-wish.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 124px; height: 93px;" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:UzssiqchWW6A_M:http://www.hjortur.dk/hjortur/Jon-birthday-wish.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The answer is no. Chris is having his 30th birthday this Wednesday, but I managed to bring out the juvenile in him by throwing him a surprise party at...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://media.biteclub.com/bc/1B2D1D56-791F-4B6D-8559EA3373E236FC.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 126px;" src="http://media.biteclub.com/bc/1B2D1D56-791F-4B6D-8559EA3373E236FC.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It is basically a Chuck E. Cheese for adults. Perfect for my husband.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf-CkmHUkgI/AAAAAAAAAkY/HGUsasEX3uE/s320/IMG_0283.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332124049048113666" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9mGqH0tfI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/zKnCh02EFeY/s1600-h/IMG_0269.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9mGqH0tfI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/zKnCh02EFeY/s320/IMG_0269.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332092748402308594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9mGY_TFxI/AAAAAAAAAkI/uSS2sJZo-eA/s1600-h/IMG_0270.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9mGY_TFxI/AAAAAAAAAkI/uSS2sJZo-eA/s320/IMG_0270.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332092743803148050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9mGKsxlKI/AAAAAAAAAkA/7mWC9r99vnU/s1600-h/IMG_0271.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9mGKsxlKI/AAAAAAAAAkA/7mWC9r99vnU/s320/IMG_0271.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332092739967358114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9le5ZzSSI/AAAAAAAAAj4/iAPFSUjGhRM/s1600-h/IMG_0272.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9le5ZzSSI/AAAAAAAAAj4/iAPFSUjGhRM/s320/IMG_0272.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332092065309477154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9legmengI/AAAAAAAAAjw/sYn0NmekyEc/s1600-h/IMG_0273.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9legmengI/AAAAAAAAAjw/sYn0NmekyEc/s320/IMG_0273.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332092058651762178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9leVZ2oFI/AAAAAAAAAjo/0891hM2IgD4/s1600-h/IMG_0276.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9leVZ2oFI/AAAAAAAAAjo/0891hM2IgD4/s320/IMG_0276.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332092055646019666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I started by secretly inviting all his guy buddies that he does his "guy's nights" with, but started hearing from their wives that they wanted to come too. Who knew we had female gamers?! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;His parents were also able to come and spend the evening with us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9k57v1tCI/AAAAAAAAAjg/UYWv3VfLOAg/s1600-h/IMG_0278.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9k57v1tCI/AAAAAAAAAjg/UYWv3VfLOAg/s320/IMG_0278.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332091430283621410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9k5uQTl9I/AAAAAAAAAjY/NKtvDPHI388/s1600-h/IMG_0280.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9k5uQTl9I/AAAAAAAAAjY/NKtvDPHI388/s320/IMG_0280.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332091426661701586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9k5R40VFI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/bUctENEsfEU/s1600-h/IMG_0281.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf9k5R40VFI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/bUctENEsfEU/s320/IMG_0281.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332091419046990930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris is apparently now old enough to receive gag gifts like Nair for his back (which he luckily doesn't need), that spray that is supposed to look like hair, and adult diapers.  It was pretty funny. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It all turned out great, and he was really surprised! Now I have to actually take him to the movie he thought we were going to see. I'm glad I pulled it off and was able to do something different for his birthday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/792794516010621701-7994208746892985603?l=cdharris.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://cdharris.blogspot.com/2009/05/big-30.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Danielle Harris)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bPaFooJwmp0/Sf-CkmHUkgI/AAAAAAAAAkY/HGUsasEX3uE/s72-c/IMG_0283.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item></channel></rss>