<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7824371066915513399</id><updated>2012-02-05T15:26:38.505-08:00</updated><category term='Julie Q'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='bible'/><category term='second attempt'/><category term='graduation'/><category term='death'/><category term='thanks'/><category term='bus drivers'/><category term='missionary'/><category term='mental tessrae'/><category term='birth'/><category term='Psalms 46:10'/><category term='faith'/><category term='junk'/><category term='parental worry'/><category term='getting started'/><category term='klutz'/><category term='sleep deprived'/><category term='riding the bus'/><category term='bad days'/><category term='headaches'/><category term='paint chips'/><category term='senility'/><category term='obsessions'/><category term='family'/><category term='serve the Lord'/><category term='poetry'/><category term='try something new'/><category term='law school'/><category term='colors'/><category term='people watching'/><category term='love'/><category term='commuting'/><category term='prayer'/><category term='baby of the family'/><title type='text'>klutzmom</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Klutzmom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04310817196835979392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='23' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/432807533_d2ecb7e91c_m.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7824371066915513399.post-6678986533263069724</id><published>2007-05-27T10:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-27T10:18:27.901-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental tessrae'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Julie Q'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, Julie Q.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Happy birthday, Julie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since you got me started in this blog business, I might as well write about your birth day.&lt;br /&gt;You came 5 days early, not that tripping on a hole in the carpet at the old church where we were speaking in the Spanish Ward and falling to my knees down two steps in front of everyone had anything to do with it.&lt;br /&gt;I went into labor around 6:00 a.m. the next morning. My brother, David, was coming over at 9:00 to help your Dad move the furnace over so we could add a room downstairs.  Your Dad said I had to hang on ‘til after that. I did, but not without a few complaints. After the furnace got taken care of (first things first) David stayed with the 4 older kids while we went to the hospital. As we were going out the driveway, I noticed a rose that was ready to bloom. I told your Dad to bring it to me when it bloomed. He came into the room that evening with a lovely rose hanging limply over his hand. Sister, Kathy, had sat on it in the car. But it survived.  That was back in the days when children could not come in to visit but could stand on a certain place on the lawn and I could wave down to them.&lt;br /&gt;When I was on the delivery table you were still kicking. The doctor said I would have a big, active boy. I told him, No. It’s a girl and her name is Julie.” (pre-sonogram days) Hey, you were my 6th baby. I was pretty good at figuring it out by then. Sure enough, when you were born he plopped you on my stomach and said, “Here’s your Julie.”&lt;br /&gt;You were our biggest, healthiest baby. Our only concern came when you were about two weeks old and decided that projectile vomiting was great entertainment. We could count on it after your 6:00 p.m. feeding. That lasted about two weeks and then you settled down to be a delightful baby with BIG blue eyes and a ready smile.&lt;br /&gt;You were an explorer and a CLIMBER. Dad about had a heart attack when he was up on the top of the house repairing the roof. He heard, “Daddy!” and turned around to find you at the top of the18’ ladder. We weren’t sure you would reach the ripe old age of two.&lt;br /&gt;We’re glad you did. We’re proud of you and your many accomplishments. Reflections awards in literature, piano festival trophies, chamber choir, scholarships, and a masters degree to name a few. You’ve brought us a lot of joy as well as presenting us with a great son-in-law, our first grandchild and three other wonderful grandchildren to follow. &lt;br /&gt;You’ve come through the rough times in your life with flying colors.  You’ve learned what your priorities are and you are doing a super job as a wife, mother, daughter, friend and daughter of God.&lt;br /&gt;Hang on to your dreams. We love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom and Dad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7824371066915513399-6678986533263069724?l=klutzmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6678986533263069724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7824371066915513399&amp;postID=6678986533263069724' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/6678986533263069724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/6678986533263069724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/2007/05/happy-birthday-julie-q.html' title='Happy Birthday, Julie Q.'/><author><name>Klutzmom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04310817196835979392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='23' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/432807533_d2ecb7e91c_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7824371066915513399.post-4198610638378336839</id><published>2007-05-17T23:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T23:51:29.285-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='law school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='graduation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby of the family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>GRADUATION CHEERS</title><content type='html'>Our baby just graduated from law school.  There should be an appropriate picture here but my camera battery was dead and my kids haven't sent me their pictures YET. So picture black robes with red velvet bands on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne (pronounced Annie) walked across the stage to the cheers of her family and friends. Her parents, four sisters and two of her brothers let out a loud synchronized “Wahoo, Annie!”  In other graduations our family has participated in, the practice of yelling or clapping for individuals was strongly discouraged but happened occasionally anyway. Good grief! A student has worked hard to reach a proud point and all he/she merits is a quick reading of a name (often poorly pronounced) and a dash across the stage as the next name is announced?  I liked Anne’s graduation ceremony. Each name was read loudly and carefully as the student paused at the front and then walked across to be handed a diploma by the dean BEFORE the next name was read. Several students waved, or held their hands up high or did a 360. Everyone cheered and clapped. I think my favorite was the little boy behind us who stood up on his seat and yelled, “Way to go, Grandma!” It was nice to be able to let out a loud cheer instead of a synchronized whisper (which also carries amazingly well.)  It was a joyful occasion, as it should be.  Each of these graduates had worked hard to be there. As we were informed by the slightly long but informative introduction by the dean, there were ten applicants for every available spot in this class of 2007. Anne, our tall willowy blond with a million dollar smile was, of course, the most beautiful one there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to law school was Anne’s own idea. She graduated 3 years ago with a bachelor’s in recreational therapy management. From her years of summer work as a counselor in wilderness survival programs for troubled youth, part time work in a detention center and an internship in a therapeutic school for boys, she decided she wanted to be involved in the juvenile court system. She saw a need for good compassionate judges, prosecutors and defenders. So, after securing a great job, she decided leave it and spend the next several years in poverty to study law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is typical of Anne’s life. She decides what she wants in life, researches and considers the pros and cons, makes her decision and goes for it. Law school was that way. During her 3 years of study she was on the law journal staff, wrote and had published a paper based on her freshman intern experience, was a member or the national moot court team and won a contest for designing a new law school T-shirt with the creative help of her brothers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne has an amazing ability to care for others. She loves babies and older people and people with physical and mental challenges. She has lots of friends because she is a loyal friend. Maybe because her budget is tight or because she is creative and willing to give of herself she thinks up great Christmas presents like a packet of foot soaking salts complete with a total foot massage (painted toenails, too) or climbing up on the roof to put up and take down our Christmas lights, or sewing or making things for friends (quilts, framed photos, sky diving pants.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you tell that I am proud of Anne along with all my kids? It was so fun to share this wonderful occasion as a family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wahoo, Anne!  Go for it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7824371066915513399-4198610638378336839?l=klutzmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4198610638378336839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7824371066915513399&amp;postID=4198610638378336839' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/4198610638378336839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/4198610638378336839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/2007/05/graduation-cheers.html' title='GRADUATION CHEERS'/><author><name>Klutzmom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04310817196835979392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='23' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/432807533_d2ecb7e91c_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7824371066915513399.post-4206027934991715941</id><published>2007-05-05T08:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-05T08:18:51.157-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='missionary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><title type='text'>Sad news</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm sorry to report that the &lt;a href="http://www.heraldextra.com/content/view/220866/4/"&gt;injured missionary died &lt;/a&gt;yesterday afternoon. His mother reports that they are doing well and will return to Utah on Monday. Please continue to pray for this wonderful, faithful family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Express your love to your own family and friends. We never know when one of will be taken. After my younger sister died in a car accident a year ago. Her children resolved to never say goodbye to each other without also saying I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7824371066915513399-4206027934991715941?l=klutzmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4206027934991715941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7824371066915513399&amp;postID=4206027934991715941' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/4206027934991715941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/4206027934991715941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/2007/05/sad-news.html' title='Sad news'/><author><name>Klutzmom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04310817196835979392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='23' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/432807533_d2ecb7e91c_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7824371066915513399.post-1526827472919345838</id><published>2007-05-04T12:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T12:42:49.439-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Psalms 46:10'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prayer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='missionary'/><title type='text'>POWER IN PRAYER</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm breaking my rule of not posting while at the office because I need to put my feelings in writing and to ask for your help. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of you may have seen or heard on the news that an LDS missionary serving in the state of Washington was critically injured in a bicycle /SUV collision. We learned this morning that he is the son of one of our dear colleagues here in the translation department. She and her husband have flown to be with him. The doctors do not expect their son to live, but miracles can happen. There has been a real out-pouring of love and concern here in the translation division. We are all praying for him and for his family and would ask you to join us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There is great power in prayer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to let you know what kind of a person his mother, Uini, is: She was supposed to bring her very large rice cooker for a celebration here today, so last evening, after they got the news and before leaving, she made a trip here to bring the rice cooker and the rice. She is a sweet, gentle, giving person and it breaks my heart to know how she must be suffering. But, she is also a woman of great faith. We can just hope and pray that the Lord’s will be done and that the family of this noble young missionary be blessed with comfort and strength. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We can all be comforted in the knowledge that God has a plan for us and that he knows us and loves us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Psalms 46:10 &lt;em&gt;Be still and know that I am God.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7824371066915513399-1526827472919345838?l=klutzmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1526827472919345838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7824371066915513399&amp;postID=1526827472919345838' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/1526827472919345838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/1526827472919345838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/2007/05/power-in-prayer.html' title='POWER IN PRAYER'/><author><name>Klutzmom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04310817196835979392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='23' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/432807533_d2ecb7e91c_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7824371066915513399.post-1159836937151621216</id><published>2007-04-26T10:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T10:41:50.990-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleep deprived'/><title type='text'>NEED MORE SLEEP</title><content type='html'>Last night, rather late, I was going to make a quick post just to see if I could do it instead of the usual agonize over it for 2 hours kind. But when I tried to go online I got the irritating message “This page could not be displayed, etc, etc.”&lt;br /&gt;It was a sign that I should go to bed and get some rest so I wouldn’t fall asleep over the keyboard today like I did yesterday. I need 6 hours of sleep, no more, no less. Lately I’ve been trying to get away with less.&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that if you fall asleep with your finger on the enter key you can wake up and find 69 pages of returns?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7824371066915513399-1159836937151621216?l=klutzmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1159836937151621216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7824371066915513399&amp;postID=1159836937151621216' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/1159836937151621216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/1159836937151621216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/2007/04/need-more-sleep.html' title='NEED MORE SLEEP'/><author><name>Klutzmom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04310817196835979392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='23' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/432807533_d2ecb7e91c_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7824371066915513399.post-4650626222337644316</id><published>2007-04-24T20:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T21:09:15.963-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people watching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='riding the bus'/><title type='text'>THE PEOPLE ON THE BUS sequel to the Wheels on the Bus</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;People,&lt;br /&gt;Like colors&lt;br /&gt;Of the rainbow,&lt;br /&gt;Add variety to our days&lt;br /&gt;As they arc across our lives.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can only assume that there are unwritten bus riding rules that state:&lt;br /&gt;1) A single passenger entering the bus must occupy &amp;shy;one seat of any remaining double seat until aforementioned double seats are all occupied by a passenger. Only then is a rider allowed to take a seat next to an occupied seat. This will assure that couples or close friends will not be allowed to sit together unless one of them leaves work early and walks 3 blocks to get on at an earlier stop or stands in line for 15 minutes in order to claim a double seat.&lt;br /&gt;2) A single rider may sit on the aisle seat and plunk his/her bag on the seat next to them in order to keep both seats. This action may be nullified only if the bus is totally full or if some brave soul dares to ask to sit there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then there is &lt;strong&gt;George&lt;/strong&gt; who takes a double seat and then gives it to us so dh and I can sit together. I’d like to meet George’s wife. She is brave enough to pull in front of the bus and stop so that he can get on, causing one bus driver to say, “That’s the first time I’ve been pulled over by a Camry!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One morning we had just left the transit station when one of the passengers went to the front of the bus and asked the driver to stop. He stopped and the passenger walked quickly toward the gas station as we drove on. It wasn’t until the next morning that we found out the problem….diarrhea attack!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a number of approved activities for the hour long bus ride:&lt;br /&gt;Sleep (with or without snoring)&lt;br /&gt;Read scriptures or other books or at least start to read before you fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;Knit or crochet.&lt;br /&gt;Apply make-up.&lt;br /&gt;Tie the necktie which you threw around your neck as you ran out the door.&lt;br /&gt;Solve Sudoko puzzles.&lt;br /&gt;Play games on palm pilots.&lt;br /&gt;Work or play on computers.&lt;br /&gt;Conduct business on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;Visit with your neighbor even if he his trying to finish an assignment on his computer.&lt;br /&gt;Stare out the window.&lt;br /&gt;Put on ear phones and listen to music. (Best if just loud enough for others to hear a teasing bit of percussion).&lt;br /&gt;Listen to books on tape or conference talks on ipods.&lt;br /&gt;Watch movies on your new minature DVD player. This only happened in January. The novelty must have worn off.&lt;br /&gt;Observe other passengers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first and last on the list are my two favorites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We like to give our fellow riders nicknames:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Roadrunner&lt;/strong&gt; sits as close to the front as possible, often jockeying for departure position. He gets off at the most popular stop and takes off with a long stride that has him up to the corner and sometimes across the street before the last of the departing passengers are off the bus. We’ve seen him in the cafeteria and he eats like he rides the bus. He can down a hamburger in 4 bites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bag Lady&lt;/strong&gt; gets on a few stops after us. She has long red hair, loud clothes, drags a huge bag on rollers up the steps with two more bags plus her purse. She wears ear muffs and overpowering, sickly sweet, heavy, sting your nose, “I took a bath in it” perfume. Can you tell the perfume really gets to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Tall Man&lt;/strong&gt; must get off work one minute before the bus arrives. He runs across the street (jaywalking of course) and barely makes the bus. On crowded days he often has to stand in the aisle on the way home with his head almost scraping the ceiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Lawyer&lt;/strong&gt; reads her scriptures, takes a blanket out of her bag, puts a mask over her eyes, curls up and goes to sleep. Since she’s a lawyer no one dares question the fact that she takes up two seats. See rule number 2 above. I like her because one day she loaned me an extra pair of reading glasses when I left mine in the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Victor&lt;/strong&gt; (That’s his real name.) strikes up a conversation with whomever he is next to and maintains it the whole trip. He knows everyone by name even the bus drivers. He seems to have an aversion to wearing suits on the bus as he wears casual clothes and then changes at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Good Morning, America&lt;/strong&gt; doesn’t ride the bus anymore. I miss him. He always got on and greeted us all with a smile and a loud, “GOOD MORNING, EVERYONE.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just have to add my pet peeve:&lt;br /&gt;Cell Phone Users who talk at TOP VOLUME on their cell phones all the way home. They must have a better calling plan than I do. One young man stood three seats behind me and called one person after another and spoke L-O-U-D-L-Y to them the entire trip. I was about ready to ask him to put his phone on speaker phone. We might as well have listened to the whole conversation as we were being forced to hear his three-fourths of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will miss our fellow passengers when we’re no longer taking the bus. We will have to occasionally make the trip just to say, “Good morning, everyone”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7824371066915513399-4650626222337644316?l=klutzmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4650626222337644316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7824371066915513399&amp;postID=4650626222337644316' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/4650626222337644316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/4650626222337644316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/2007/04/people-on-bus-sequel-to-wheels-on-bus.html' title='THE PEOPLE ON THE BUS sequel to the Wheels on the Bus'/><author><name>Klutzmom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04310817196835979392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='23' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/432807533_d2ecb7e91c_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7824371066915513399.post-1128006455855848097</id><published>2007-04-18T23:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-18T23:37:53.821-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad days'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='headaches'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='serve the Lord'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thanks'/><title type='text'>WACKY WEDNESDAY</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This was one of “those days.” Nothing was going right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Started out with a bad headache for the FIFTH day in a row.&lt;br /&gt;My hair would not cooperate. DH said I was beautiful anyway. He’s funny that way.&lt;br /&gt;About an hour into the work day I was kindly informed that my blouse was ripped out in the back under-arm seam. My 2 month old blouse was literally falling apart. Not just in the arm seam but in two other seams as well. Fortunately I had worn a jacket. Unfortunately it was too hot to keep on all day. I kept my arms down and my shoulders back. Aha! New way to improve your posture.&lt;br /&gt;I had a deadline to meet before 9:20. Thought about skipping prayer meeting. Not a good idea since I had the scripture thought and I need all the prayers I can get.&lt;br /&gt;The headache and accompanying nausea were making it hard to concentrate, so I finally decided to take the really strong medication which gets rid of the headache but makes it hard to stay awake. The two Tylenol from earlier were not making one bit of difference.&lt;br /&gt;Made the deadline (barely) but had to ask David (my sanity saver) to check it to make sure I hadn’t made any really stupid mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;Feeling really overloaded and gloomy. I didn’t even feel I had time to read one single blog. Now that’s really sad!&lt;br /&gt;Moved groggily on to the next deadline which was looking really overwhelming. I was close to tears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our supervisor came in and said, “I don’t think I have told you lately how very much I appreciate both of you and everything you do.”&lt;br /&gt;Wow! It’s amazing how fast the sun can come out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day was still busy but it was a good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank someone today. You may change their whole outlook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scripture thought:&lt;br /&gt;Joshua 24:15 . . . &lt;em&gt;Choose ye this day whom ye will serve; . . . But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;In today’s crazy world with so many demands on our time and loyalties, it’s important to know who’s on the Lord’s side.&lt;br /&gt;I’m grateful for this opportunity to serve the Lord and am convinced that all else will fall into place even on wacky days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7824371066915513399-1128006455855848097?l=klutzmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1128006455855848097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7824371066915513399&amp;postID=1128006455855848097' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/1128006455855848097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/1128006455855848097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/2007/04/wacky-wednesday.html' title='WACKY WEDNESDAY'/><author><name>Klutzmom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04310817196835979392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='23' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/432807533_d2ecb7e91c_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7824371066915513399.post-2989125142755485938</id><published>2007-04-14T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T19:23:42.075-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bible'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='obsessions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='junk'/><title type='text'>TO OBSESS OR NOT</title><content type='html'>When I first read meme on &lt;a href="http://mentaltesserae.blogspot.com/"&gt;Julie’s blog&lt;/a&gt; I thought she had misspelled memo. But then she tagged me. I'll get even someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I’m obsessed with 5 things: my family, house plans, the Bible, Julie’s blog, and all the things I am not getting done. All interconnected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I have a great family and I love it when we all get together. My nine children are very supportive of each other and enjoy each other’s company, so I ‘m grateful that most of them live relatively close to us. They are all grown and basically on their own. The “baby” will graduate next month from law school. There are now 17 grandchildren ranging from 11 to almost 2 weeks. I have super in-laws, too. I dearly love them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. My family leads to my second obsession, house plans. When we all get together, our house is way too small, so at an age when most people downsize we are making plans to build a house with a great room and a large open kitchen. Do you have any idea how noisy it can get in a small kitchen and a 15’ x 17’ living room with 30 people all eating and having fun, with an occasional crying child thrown into the mix? We bought a lot to build on several years ago and have learned much about planning a house, developing a cul-de-sac, working with people who don’t do what they say they will do and then charging you for it, how long it takes for the city to approve development plans, etc. I have planned every square foot of our house (several times) and am convinced that once it is done I will know much better how it should have been done. The plans have evolved over a period of more than two years and are very different from what we started with. Hopefully, we can actually start building in a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. The Bible keeps us busy all day as that is what our assignment is on our mission for the &lt;a href="http://lds.org/portal/site/LDSOrg"&gt;Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints&lt;/a&gt;. Since I spend about 5-7 hours a day proofreading the revisions, footnotes, input corrections, etc., along with making sure everything is where it’s supposed to be, I have become quite friendly with the Bible. It’s a fascinating book. The Old Testament is challenging, beautiful, ugly, poetic, shocking, frustrating and inspirational all at the same time. There is so much to learn from the mistakes and achievements of others. Isn’t that life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I don’t let myself write in my blog while I’m at the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/LDS_Church_Office_Building"&gt;Church Office Building&lt;/a&gt; but I do read &lt;a href="http://mentaltesserae.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mental Tesserae&lt;/a&gt; and a few others plus the comments when I need a break. (See Blogs I've stumbled on over to the right there.)  Did you know that Pres. Hinckley (president and prophet of the LDS Church) said that people over 50 should put their feet up for 15 minutes in the morning and 15 minutes in the afternoon? At least that’s what I’ve heard, so that’s my excuse. It helps maintain good circulation in one’s legs. Poor circulation is a problem most of you still have to look forward to. But, I digress. I enjoy reading what other people are thinking and experiencing. Hence the blog obsession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. All of the above contribute to the fifth obsession: All that I’m not getting done. I was going to make a list but it got too overwhelming. Suffice it to say that paperwork, laundry, messy closets, cluttered cupboards, the garage which will not permit a car to enter and the front porch head the top of a long list. The front porch is the worst. A year ago we had a flood in the basement – of the worst kind! Sewer back-up! They call it black water, but it looked brown to me. We were standing in 3 to 5 inches of “poop water” trying to get stuff out. “Black water” contaminates anything it touches so speed was of the essence. It’s known as forced dejunking. We carried stuff out to the trash, the porch and to the neighbor’s huge garage. They volunteered. Why is there still stuff on the front porch a year later? Well, after tearing out and replacing the bottom 2 feet of the walls, repainting and recarpeting which necessitated taking EVERYTHING out of the basement, I don’t want to just haul everything back downstairs without going through it. Every time I start to go through it I don’t know where to put the stuff, especially things that aren’t mine. (The next time I raise 9 kids there will be a rule that when you move out you take everything with you.) The fact that I hate to throw away anything I might use someday contributes to the problem. So I make a futile attempt and decide to tackle it later. The only thing that saves us from being a total neighborhood disgrace is that there are large overgrown shrubs which hide most of the boxes and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of overgrown, this post is out of control so I’ll end and go make another attempt on the porch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7824371066915513399-2989125142755485938?l=klutzmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2989125142755485938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7824371066915513399&amp;postID=2989125142755485938' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/2989125142755485938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/2989125142755485938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/2007/04/to-obsess-or-not.html' title='TO OBSESS OR NOT'/><author><name>Klutzmom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04310817196835979392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='23' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/432807533_d2ecb7e91c_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7824371066915513399.post-5242414838974012778</id><published>2007-03-16T19:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-16T20:24:33.043-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='commuting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bus drivers'/><title type='text'>Leave the driving to us</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The wheels on the bus go round and round…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every weekday morning we hop on the express bus (actually, climb with a great deal of effort due to the boot on my left leg) and ride an hour to work. I always swore I would never commute to work. So here we are doing volunteer work and COMMUTING. I hate to admit it but I enjoy the ride. I can sleep, read, study other passengers or just relax while someone else does the driving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_oiCO9Javt-E/RftXouIuarI/AAAAAAAAAAU/fkIFlXuqe0Y/s1600-h/bus+in+the+snow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042720564862413490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 123px" height="129" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_oiCO9Javt-E/RftXouIuarI/AAAAAAAAAAU/fkIFlXuqe0Y/s200/bus+in+the+snow.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The only time this was a little less than desirable was when we had a new driver on a snowy morning. He asked for directions as to where the turns and stops were and then as we were starting down a long hill said, “I’ll take this a little slow. I’ve never driven a bus in the snow before.” Uh, I think I’ll get off at the next stop, thank you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No. This is not our bus. But it is what I visualized that morning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other day, as the driver was trying to pull away from the curb in the snow the back of the bus slid and hit a sign but he was getting his speed up so we just went right on up the street. What’s one sign more or less?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had another driver who was a great guy. He was friendly, pleasant, greeted everyone as they got on the bus, but…. used a pumping motion on the gas pedal. Rather jerky. The ride, not the driver.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The female driver we had several time would announce every stop with great detail and chat with everyone as they got on the bus. As we got onto the freeway she’d turn off the overhead lights and tell us, “Settle back and relax. Next stop, Salt Lake City.” Then, as we left the freeway she’d wake us up and announce the first stop. I wonder if she has designs on being an airline pilot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our favorite is our currently regular morning driver who gets right over to the curb and kneels the bus down for us to get off. Bless you, bless you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7824371066915513399-5242414838974012778?l=klutzmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5242414838974012778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7824371066915513399&amp;postID=5242414838974012778' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/5242414838974012778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/5242414838974012778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/2007/03/leave-driving-to-us.html' title='Leave the driving to us'/><author><name>Klutzmom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04310817196835979392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='23' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/432807533_d2ecb7e91c_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_oiCO9Javt-E/RftXouIuarI/AAAAAAAAAAU/fkIFlXuqe0Y/s72-c/bus+in+the+snow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7824371066915513399.post-152809036889481589</id><published>2007-03-15T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T18:59:25.580-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parental worry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='senility'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>Poetry and Parenting</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I imagine genuine poets would love so many times,&lt;br /&gt;To tell us stumbling amateurs that poems are more than &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;rhymes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I decided that I would start each blog with a little poem, rhyme, ditty or whatever. After I read some of &lt;a href="http://kimsscribbles.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kimberly’s poetry&lt;/a&gt; I had second thought about the idea. Hers are beautiful, polished and deep. Mine are kinda surfacey. Ooooh, the spell checker won’t like those two words. But then, it doesn’t like BLOG either. I get a kick out of some of the spell checker’s suggestions, especially for names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, I enjoy rhyming words. The activity cheers me and helps keep my mind sharp. At my age I look for ways to keep the mind sharp: sudokos, crossword puzzles, cryptoquotes, reading, writing, games, etc. Although my children might tell you it’s a lost cause. Their theory is that you lose brain cells with the birth of each child. I’m in serious trouble. I’m not sure if you lose the brain cells during childbirth or during the years of worry about the children’s physical, social, mental, and spiritual welfare. Somehow, I had the mistaken idea that once your children are married you no longer worry about them. Not true. You still worry, and have little or no control over the situation. And then there are grandchildren added to the mix. My children and their spouses are great parents and I have wonderful grandchildren, so why do I still worry? Hey, that’s a grandmother’s prerogative! I thought that was spelled perogative but the spell checker disagrees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is one of the signs of senility wandering, random thoughts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Back to “poetry.” I just want you to be forewarned that I will carry on with pathetic, paltry poetry as a preamble to my painfully pondered posts. If you don’t see a verse it’s not that I gave up the idea. It’s that the “muse” has wandered away. But it will come limping back hoping for better reception. Someday I’ll publish with panache.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7824371066915513399-152809036889481589?l=klutzmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/feeds/152809036889481589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7824371066915513399&amp;postID=152809036889481589' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/152809036889481589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/152809036889481589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/2007/03/poetry-and-parenting.html' title='Poetry and Parenting'/><author><name>Klutzmom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04310817196835979392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='23' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/432807533_d2ecb7e91c_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7824371066915513399.post-7559138765234740926</id><published>2007-03-09T08:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T20:03:00.112-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paint chips'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='colors'/><title type='text'>color samples</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;What's my favorite color? Is it red or blue or green?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;That's easy. It's the rainbow and all colors in between.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I love &lt;strong&gt;colors&lt;/strong&gt;, all colors. Even the ones with strange names like Pea Soup Green. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I love teaching children about the color wheel and how we mix colors to get different colors.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I enjoy color schemes that blend and harmonize, colors that accent, colors that wake you up or put you to sleep, colors one would never put together 50 years ago but are stylish combinations today.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I color-code files, notebooks, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;storage containers and people. I'm so color conscious that if someone tells me that the plant identification book is green and is on the second shelf and the book is really purple, I have a hard time finding it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have a problem with painting every room in the house Antique White or even Biscuit or Believable Buff. They're okay for a base color but then I've got to have a texture or wash with other colors blended in. It helps that I have two daughter who paint professionally. (Don't look at the line between my kitchen and my living room where phase two of "let's fix up Mom and Dad's house" hasn't YET gotten finished.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Have you ever looked at paint chips or a painter's color chip tool? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_oiCO9Javt-E/RfGSs-9sosI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6oDJGLGYt3g/s1600-h/PaintChips.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039970759517971138" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_oiCO9Javt-E/RfGSs-9sosI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6oDJGLGYt3g/s200/PaintChips.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It fans out with a gazillion blades, each a different color and 6 or 7 tints or shades of each color. The fun part is checking out the color names:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Green Trance, Cosmetic Peach, Rejuvenate, Oleander, Cooled Blue (looks like a faded green to me), Lobelia (another blue), Intellectual Gray, (I could use that right by the computer.) Euphoric Lilac, Enticing Red, etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; And that is just one brand of paint. Other brands have their own creative names.Someone actually gets paid to make up these names? Oops, someone ran out of ideas. Here's one called Grayish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So why do I have a &lt;strong&gt;pepto bismal pink blog&lt;/strong&gt;???? That is a good question? It looked good on the sample templates. (I just now matched it to a color chip and it is actually Anemone with Gala pink trim and Juneberry lettering. Good grief! They're not even on the same color blade.&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;As soon as I figure out how to change it, I will. I think I'll go with something like Afterglow or Wishful Blue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hint for the day&lt;/strong&gt;: When making word strips, posters, flyers, etc. don't use yellow on white or white on yellow. They may look fine close up but the lettering disappears at even short distances. Pick colors that contrast so the lettering will stand out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Have a colorful day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7824371066915513399-7559138765234740926?l=klutzmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7559138765234740926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7824371066915513399&amp;postID=7559138765234740926' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/7559138765234740926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/7559138765234740926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/2007/03/color-samples.html' title='color samples'/><author><name>Klutzmom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04310817196835979392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='23' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/432807533_d2ecb7e91c_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_oiCO9Javt-E/RfGSs-9sosI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6oDJGLGYt3g/s72-c/PaintChips.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7824371066915513399.post-438855963930995168</id><published>2007-03-02T19:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-03T14:55:22.175-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='try something new'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='second attempt'/><title type='text'>Try, try again</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I flung myself out into cyberspace, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And found that I was ill-equipped to face that great unknown.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now, somewhat armed* I take another step, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Instead of wisely running back into my comfort zone.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*After my first bumbling attempt at blogging I emailed my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://mentaltesserae.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;blogging daughter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; and I visited the "help center." Now I know just enough to be dangerous, but not enough to edit an already published post so it's out there, as is, with problems. Don't even bother to try the links on that one. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Why is it that you can have all kind of ideas running around in your head and then, when you sit down in front of the screen, they all fly away? But since, after a few futile attempts I actually got back to my bog, oops! blog, (that's actually a good word for my brain functions at the moment) I'll fling out a few thoughts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;As a grandmother I feel I'm entitled to offer advice. Here's my gem for today:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Try new things even if it scares you a little, especially if it's something you've thought about doing for a l-o-n-g time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I became an elementary school teacher at age 45. At age eight I decided I wanted to be an elementary school teacher because of a wonderful third grade teacher. When my youngest daughter was eight I began teaching third grade. There were days the first few overwhelming weeks when I wondered WHY I wanted to be a teacher. But over the years I learned to love teaching, love the students, and love the adventure of reaching young minds and hearts. I hope that somewhere there is a student or two who wants to be a teacher because they felt that love. One of my favorite momentos is a carefully hand lettered and decorated note that read:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;You are a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;grate &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt; tichur &lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Webdings;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Teaching is a noble profession. Too bad they don't get paid like basketball players do. After all they're just molding the future. Okay, off the soap box. Actually, I'm retired but some days I miss it a little.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This new thing of blogging still scares me a little, but not as much as sky diving, which I almost tried. Having a baby in a foreign country, living in Spain with 7 children for a year (the oldest one was twelve), eating octopus, cow's stomach and pig brains (not together), taking up water coloring and quilting (also not together but, why not?), designing a house which we may build someday, climbing a mountain (once) which my husband and children have climbed many times, buying a trampoline and painting my kitchen table red, are all adventures which were a bit scary but interesting and rewarding. Having two daughters who love sky diving is little scary, too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So.... try something new. You just might have fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Maybe I'll take another leap of faith and tell my family I have a blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7824371066915513399-438855963930995168?l=klutzmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/feeds/438855963930995168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7824371066915513399&amp;postID=438855963930995168' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/438855963930995168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/438855963930995168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/2007/03/try-try-again.html' title='Try, try again'/><author><name>Klutzmom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04310817196835979392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='23' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/432807533_d2ecb7e91c_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7824371066915513399.post-7668048492791882149</id><published>2007-02-28T22:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-03T14:52:21.020-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='klutz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='getting started'/><title type='text'>It's easy. Just click on google ID</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh sure! I was just getting an ID so I could post comments. It's a trap. Now I see how &lt;a href="http://unabruja.blogspot.com/"&gt;La bruja &lt;/a&gt;got sucked into the vortex. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I never was very good at clicking the right button on a PC. I'm an Mac person. But since our Imac is getting old and tired (like me) I'm converting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I hope there are no unwritten rules about how often one has to post on a blog. I have a journal bound in lovely tooled leather from Morocco which starts out valiantly, skips a few days, sputters along and eventually jumps ahead five years. I'm sure that the five years contained so many adventures and challenges that I just didn't have time to write. It does make me sad to think that many memories are lost because I didn't just jot them down. I shall repent. Again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The &lt;strong&gt;klutzmom &lt;/strong&gt;comes from the fact that I am a mother of nine and a Klutz. The knee high "boot" on my left leg, three cuts on my hands along with several bruises attest to the latter fact. Unfortunately several of my children have inherited the klutz gene. &lt;a href="http://mentaltesserae.blogspot.com/"&gt;mentaltesserae&lt;/a&gt; They have fortunately also inherited some good traits from both parents and are an improvement on the old stock. I love them all and am proud of every one of them. And our 16 grandchildren, but don't get me started on that!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Okay, here goes. I am about to take the leap of faith and click on the &lt;em&gt;publish&lt;/em&gt; button. If you never hear from me again, it's because I didn't figure out how to find my blog again or decided I was out of my comfort zone and would be perfectly content to read other blogs and comment from the shadows.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7824371066915513399-7668048492791882149?l=klutzmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7668048492791882149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7824371066915513399&amp;postID=7668048492791882149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/7668048492791882149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7824371066915513399/posts/default/7668048492791882149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://klutzmom.blogspot.com/2007/02/its-easy-just-click-on-google-id.html' title='It&apos;s easy. Just click on google ID'/><author><name>Klutzmom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04310817196835979392</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='23' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/432807533_d2ecb7e91c_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
