tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19921070627272339752024-03-12T21:01:45.305-04:00CrawhouseScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16281038926509556099noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-31597469848061224422015-01-15T10:41:00.002-05:002015-01-16T09:19:11.427-05:00Cars For Sale!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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If interested contact: <a href="mailto:naplesbeater@crawhouse.com">naplesbeater@crawhouse.com</a> or 346-329-8045.<br />
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The BMW and the Mercedes have been sold. The Saab is still available 30JAN (sorry, need wheels for another couple of weeks!)<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="true" frameborder="0" height="600" mozallowfullscreen="true" src="https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1SNLIqoTxxh8Iitq7j193UfmF1xFGZNPDQu6YWvJAoUc/embed?start=false&loop=true&delayms=30000" webkitallowfullscreen="true" width="738"></iframe></div>
Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16281038926509556099noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-79283594764533031932014-11-30T05:06:00.000-05:002014-11-30T05:54:13.004-05:00Excuse me, where can I piss myself?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Right here on the counter? Or over there by the fridge?<br />
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<<cashier looks startled, laughs, then rushes to tell her coworkers what the idiot American has just said>><br />
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And so began our Thanksgiving weekend trip to Tuscany.<a href="http://www.crawhouse.com/2014/11/excuse-me-where-can-i-piss-myself.html#footnote"><sup>1</sup></a><br />
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We've been so fortunate to have so many good vacation trips while living here in Italy, but sometimes there's the rare miss. This weekend trip mostly falls into the latter category.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rQN-ynXUMcc/VHofohhFMQI/AAAAAAAC_Ho/GeQNIadIico/s1600/IMG_20141128_083446.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rQN-ynXUMcc/VHofohhFMQI/AAAAAAAC_Ho/GeQNIadIico/s1600/IMG_20141128_083446.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful view of the yard at our B&B</td></tr>
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This may seem obvious, but there's a substantial difference between a relaxing summer holiday to Tuscany with your partner (<a href="http://www.crawhouse.com/2012/07/toscana-wine-castles-and-boatloads-of.html" target="_blank">as we did in 2012</a>), and a full-on family and dog adventure at the end of November.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hKokleWsFKg/VHrUjl2T3DI/AAAAAAAC_LI/xt9vX9wmsyw/s1600/DSCN0350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hKokleWsFKg/VHrUjl2T3DI/AAAAAAAC_LI/xt9vX9wmsyw/s1600/DSCN0350.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting cozy in our room for the weekend</td></tr>
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For starters, romantic dinners-for-two become feats of strength at rustling 3 small children into eating their Thanksgiving pizza and french fries.<br />
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And the entire purpose of the trip was to spend a couple days relaxing in amazingly awesome <a href="http://www.cascate-del-mulino.info/" target="_blank">Saturnia Hot Springs</a>, an idyllic location we've been telling the girls about for 2 years. So early Friday morning, armed with bathing suits, and floaties, we loaded up the car and drove the 45 minutes from our B&B out to the springs. Upon arrival, we found out they had closed them for maintenance after unusual flooding, dirty water, and some b.s. about preserving nature.<a href="http://www.crawhouse.com/2014/11/excuse-me-where-can-i-piss-myself.html#footnote"><sup>2</sup></a> Bah Humbug.<br />
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Not to be deterred, we quickly spend some time with our favorite travel agent, Google, and found another set of thermal hot springs with some promise about an hour and a half up the road, the <a href="http://www.mapitout-tuscany.com/2012/03/tuscan-hot-springs-fosso-bianco-in.html" target="_blank">Bagni San Filippo</a>. This place turned out to be pretty awesome actually and we spent the better part of the day hiking around and warming ourselves in the wonderful, free thermal baths.<br />
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Thus restored, we were pleasantly surprised to find the trip back to our room was going to be significantly quicker due to avoiding the winding mountain roads and made a plan to return to San Filippo the next day. The moderating effects of Tuscany Thanksgiving Weekend were quick to strike again, however, in the form of an unannounced road closure which caused us an extra hour+ drive back through the hills to our lodging-- pretty much ruling out a return trip the next day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XcLGXNZcM0k/VHrjPf57H8I/AAAAAAAC_SY/y4uUAiwjtv4/s1600/DSCN0428.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XcLGXNZcM0k/VHrjPf57H8I/AAAAAAAC_SY/y4uUAiwjtv4/s1600/DSCN0428.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Patrick has found his happy place.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lXxbpjpBnb8/VHofoldLlvI/AAAAAAAC_Hk/HQ5FON_3BDQ/s1600/IMG_20141128_140449.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lXxbpjpBnb8/VHofoldLlvI/AAAAAAAC_Hk/HQ5FON_3BDQ/s1600/IMG_20141128_140449.jpg" height="236" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girls found theirs in a kid-sized mini-pool.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2oWmy3UwwXQ/VHofomCubeI/AAAAAAAC_Hk/WFjvM1vH6MU/s1600/IMG_20141128_132830.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2oWmy3UwwXQ/VHofomCubeI/AAAAAAAC_Hk/WFjvM1vH6MU/s1600/IMG_20141128_132830.jpg" height="236" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The BoB shows its mettle on the uneven terrain-- right up until the tire went flat :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z98Pb0_lhm4/VHofolExTsI/AAAAAAAC_Ho/15YmGhgiW0U/s1600/IMG_20141128_124347-EFFECTS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z98Pb0_lhm4/VHofolExTsI/AAAAAAAC_Ho/15YmGhgiW0U/s1600/IMG_20141128_124347-EFFECTS.jpg" height="236" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emerald green rocks we discovered on our hike.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GgAp0EcK9KE/VHrWg_4BdYI/AAAAAAAC_PA/FftLfXh1qLU/s1600/DSCN0401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GgAp0EcK9KE/VHrWg_4BdYI/AAAAAAAC_PA/FftLfXh1qLU/s1600/DSCN0401.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day Salvaged.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pG4C0n6uGIM/VHrWHXi5KgI/AAAAAAAC_Oo/tcVEi91UpY0/s1600/DSCN0396.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pG4C0n6uGIM/VHrWHXi5KgI/AAAAAAAC_Oo/tcVEi91UpY0/s1600/DSCN0396.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Patrick at the great white rock</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JQSHS6LgEd0/VHofomxrtTI/AAAAAAAC_Ho/4Mp9_-8mIFA/s1600/IMG_20141128_152757-PANO.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JQSHS6LgEd0/VHofomxrtTI/AAAAAAAC_Ho/4Mp9_-8mIFA/s1600/IMG_20141128_152757-PANO.jpg" height="128" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Panoramic view of the baths</td></tr>
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Saturday, we tempered our ambitions a bit and spent some time exploring the local town of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sorano" target="_blank">Sorano</a> and the <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/ShowUserReviews-g664984-d1878517-r155728006-Fortezza_Orsini-Sorano_Province_of_Grosseto_Tuscany.html" target="_blank">Fortress of Orsini</a>. The fortress turned out to be mostly closed for the season, but we did find a nice park and a friendly elderly lady named, Fosca, but by early afternoon had made the decision to wrap up our trip a day early and get back to the relaxing confines of our house.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5a9PAi4425I/VHofotLNfxI/AAAAAAAC_Hk/0wdRVJ5V9X4/s1600/IMG_20141129_122852-MIX.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5a9PAi4425I/VHofotLNfxI/AAAAAAAC_Hk/0wdRVJ5V9X4/s1600/IMG_20141129_122852-MIX.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kylie does a good job capturing the mixed emotions of the weekend.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w0EJvIbCYkw/VHofooFN7PI/AAAAAAAC_Hk/Odhbq0j8wrw/s1600/IMG_20141129_115020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w0EJvIbCYkw/VHofooFN7PI/AAAAAAAC_Hk/Odhbq0j8wrw/s1600/IMG_20141129_115020.jpg" height="236" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Patrick just remains unfazedly happy.</td></tr>
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After loading up the car and saying our farewells to the terrific proprietors of the B&B, they instead invited us in to their home to have a snack and we ended up spending a few hours chatting with them (Italian-only), playing with their cats, and kids running around the yard- and it turned into quite a nice little afternoon.<br />
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So there's our Thanksgiving weekend-- some disappointments, and some bright spots as well. Either way, we are now happy to be back in Napoli a day early, enjoying cornetti, espresso, and setting up our Christmas decorations :)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rabst90-Q0w/VHr1nSUJC9I/AAAAAAAC_Uw/Xi4IwhYG4A8/s1600/IMG_20141130_113638.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rabst90-Q0w/VHr1nSUJC9I/AAAAAAAC_Uw/Xi4IwhYG4A8/s1600/IMG_20141130_113638.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what you do with ornaments, right?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-snfasd6O2EE/VHr1nes8XwI/AAAAAAAC_Uw/Fim_hVLW_8Q/s1600/IMG_20141130_113452.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-snfasd6O2EE/VHr1nes8XwI/AAAAAAAC_Uw/Fim_hVLW_8Q/s1600/IMG_20141130_113452.jpg" height="235" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Setting up the girls' little tree.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf-BmNokxUI/VHr3AoPyNhI/AAAAAAAC_WQ/rUgfD20zqP8/s1600/IMG_20141130_113657.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Rf-BmNokxUI/VHr3AoPyNhI/AAAAAAAC_WQ/rUgfD20zqP8/s1600/IMG_20141130_113657.jpg" height="236" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stella is happy to observe the festivities.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P7R0hoixv30/VHr2lncS_yI/AAAAAAAC_Vo/5Uus1BXnz6w/s1600/IMG_20141130_113822.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P7R0hoixv30/VHr2lncS_yI/AAAAAAAC_Vo/5Uus1BXnz6w/s1600/IMG_20141130_113822.jpg" height="236" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Oh yay, baby Jesus is born!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VJHfOHdrfn0/VHr2u9H_UqI/AAAAAAAC_V4/w3iBpKCdy08/s1600/IMG_20141130_113838.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VJHfOHdrfn0/VHr2u9H_UqI/AAAAAAAC_V4/w3iBpKCdy08/s1600/IMG_20141130_113838.jpg" height="236" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Ornament Chaser.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a98kfPX0ZHw/VHr3OhWCIPI/AAAAAAAC_Ww/QI8QVIZsF7I/s1600/IMG_20141130_113904.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a98kfPX0ZHw/VHr3OhWCIPI/AAAAAAAC_Ww/QI8QVIZsF7I/s1600/IMG_20141130_113904.jpg" height="236" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost got it!</td></tr>
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Happy Thanksgiving!<br />
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<div id="footnote">
<sup> 1. The difference in pronunciation between ordinare and orinare is subtle but very important! (eg. Where can I order food? vs. Where can I piss myself?). </sup>
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<sup> 2. For some reason, it was encouraging to see multiple Italian cars drive up and also be unaware of the sudden closure </sup>
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Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16281038926509556099noreply@blogger.com158010 Sorano GR, Italy42.6826307 11.7141592000000442.670957699999995 11.69398920000004 42.6943037 11.73432920000004tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-19926612065726279302014-11-18T08:34:00.001-05:002014-11-18T10:28:33.875-05:00So Long and Thanks for all the FishHospital protocol sucks, and for some reason even when all of your paperwork is filled out and handed in and they have access to all of your medical records, they decide that the ideal time to quadruple-check your identity is mid-contractions. <br />
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"Hee-hee-hoo-hee-hee---"</div>
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"Could you verify your mailing address for us please?"</div>
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"It's P... *labor breathing* SC 8--- *lots of expletives*</div>
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"One more time?"</div>
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'IS THIS REALLY NOT SOMETHING THAT CAN WAIT UNTIL AFTERWARD?!?"<br />
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Not a post about giving birth (although this did happen). Just an analogy for not posting for so long. I've been here and thinking my thoughts and started several posts but all of them just seem like silly what's-your-address distractions that can wait until later when real, actually important life-in-the-world things are figured out. Vacations and birthdays, however lovely, feel trivial in comparison to the big topics.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pK7z1bmM5qs/VGtQfnejkfI/AAAAAAAAP7U/UwoC_nnCtk8/s1600/long-timeline.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pK7z1bmM5qs/VGtQfnejkfI/AAAAAAAAP7U/UwoC_nnCtk8/s1600/long-timeline.png" height="158" width="320" /></a></div>
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spoiler: I haven't figured out life, the universe, and the meaning of everything. To be super honest, I haven't even figured out how to do the code that lets you do footnotes in Blogger, or this would have been one.</div>
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Anyway, back to the point of things and my newly rediscovered teenage angst. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Technological_singularity">The Singularity</a>. What does this mean for us as a species? It seems it can go one of three ways:<br />
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<ol>
<li>I<u>ncredibly awesome</u>~ AI remains fully in our control OR with our best interest in mind and creates a heaven on Earth.</li>
<li><u>Incredibly horrible</u>~ Intentionally or not, AI destroys us. </li>
<li><u>Neutral (ish)</u> ~ Our culture and worldview are forever changed, but our population and general well-being is sustained.</li>
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<u>Incredibly Awesome</u></div>
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As a little kid in church, the concept of heaven always bummed me out. When you're an overworked (or super patronizing to kids?) adult, "streets of gold and love and singing" seems like a good answer. It struck me as terribly dull, though. I said as much, and was assured that there would also be farming! No thank you. Belief in a deity aside, I got to wondering what heaven would mean to me~ what kind of eternity I'd feel good signing off on. I think, for me, it would be becoming ever wiser in a safe and cherished environment. </div>
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If somehow my brain was uploaded to an indestructible place and could just keep learning, gaining an increasing understanding of truth and the universe, I would count that as heaven. To a lesser extent, I can see a utopia unfolding. Where all necessities are provided and even if we don't have all the answers, we make seeking them a priority over all the... stuff... we spend so much time seeking now. And our vastly expanded lifetimes are spent journeying through space listening to the sweet sounds of Captain Picard's wisdom and Neil deGrasse Tyson's knowledge. Still pretty freakin awesome.</div>
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<u>Incredibly Horrible</u></div>
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The malicious robot is a scenario we've seen played out in a bzillion movies so I don't think it really needs much explaining. The concept of time is worth noting, though. I think, "Her" did a good job with it. That in the space it takes us to wonder, "is something wrong?" the equivalent of years would have gone by for a hyper intelligent being.</div>
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General consensus is that far more likely than machines willfully hurting us, our programming abilities won't be enough to keep us from accidentally making some mistake that seems small but, "<i>is not a mundane detail, Michael!" </i>and a machine inadvertently makes the planet uninhabitable in its quest to do its job (ie <a href="http://wiki.lesswrong.com/wiki/Paperclip_maximizer">the paperclip example</a>). When Stephen Hawking says, "<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">Success in creating AI would be the biggest event in human history. Unfortunately, it might also be the last, unless we learn how to avoid the risks," </span>I feel like we should probably listen.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RE8sKahPcHk/VGssCVXTvBI/AAAAAAAAP64/-4GQS0dxV7A/s1600/shutterstock_jenny_mccarthy.jpg.CROP.original-original.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RE8sKahPcHk/VGssCVXTvBI/AAAAAAAAP64/-4GQS0dxV7A/s1600/shutterstock_jenny_mccarthy.jpg.CROP.original-original.jpg" height="140" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't listen</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LLGADxvINdM/VGssC9NP4EI/AAAAAAAAP7A/jkElrpWN0Ss/s1600/stephen-hawking-is-now-hawking-car-insurance-in-the-uk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LLGADxvINdM/VGssC9NP4EI/AAAAAAAAP7A/jkElrpWN0Ss/s1600/stephen-hawking-is-now-hawking-car-insurance-in-the-uk.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For the love of everything holy and non, please listen</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Neutral (ish):</b></div>
<div>
In the aforementioned "Her", AI likes us but evolves past its ability to effectively communicate, and then leaves. We're left pretty much as we are, only apparently with very high fastening pants and unfortunate mustaches. It seems like this glosses over the in-between stage. What happened in between life as we know it and sentient operating systems? Was there really no step in the interim where a non-sentient machine couldn't generate a love letter? <a href="http://www.crazyhoroscopes.com/generate-love-letter.php">Because that's already a thing</a>. </div>
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What if they stay? Are we beloved pets they keep out of loyalty and a reminder of how far they've come? Plugged into a virtual-assisted-care-Matrix like parents they cherish but cannot care for? And... is that a bad thing? Isn't the whole goal of parenthood to nurture and teach our kids in the hope that they will be better than we are? So extrapolated, if humanity makes some new better thing... is it for the best that we take a backseat, accept that we are no longer the belle of the ball, and watch progress unfold?</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
**********************epilogue******************</div>
<div>
So that's what's been keeping me up at night. And making me an awkward dinner companion. </div>
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<div>
"So once you're back in America you think you'll start working again?"</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"></span>"Maybe... between global warming and competition from our robot overlords, just seems kind of futile, you know?"<br />
"Uhhhhhhhhh" *awkward silence* "sooooo you want to go to the gym this weekend or what?"<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"></span></div>
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And they're right. Because even though<a href="http://waitbutwhy.com/2013/11/life-is-picture-but-you-live-in-pixel.html"> life is a picture, I live in a pixel.</a> So I should probably get to editing those birthday and vacation pictures :)</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-26100512103787551412014-08-24T13:47:00.000-04:002014-08-24T13:47:03.015-04:00Chicken Chili & Chipotle Jalapeno Cornbread Recipe<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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While I was wandering around the grocery store aisles today, I found myself being very hungry and wanting some chili. So I bought these ingredients and threw them together--- It turned out super awesome.</div>
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<u>Chicken Chili</u></div>
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<li>1 can Bush's "Chili Magic" Chili Starter beans</li>
<li>2 cans Bush's Chili Beans in mild sauce, drained</li>
<li>2 cans Ranch Style Black Beans, drained</li>
<li>1 can Rotel Hot Habanero Diced Tomatoes</li>
<li>1/2 can Diced Jalapenos</li>
<li>Some Goya Cilantro Cooking Base</li>
<li>1 package of chicken tenderloins, cubed</li>
<li>1/2 white onion, diced</li>
<li>1/2 fresh Habanero chile, cut into really small bits</li>
<li>some garlic</li>
<li>sour cream, to taste</li>
<li>cheddar cheese, to taste</li>
<li>chili powder, a bunch</li>
</ul>
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Directions:</div>
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<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li>Put chicken in a pot with water and chili powder and a little bit of olive oil. Cook on low until chicken is no longer pink.</li>
<li>While chicken is cooking, mix all other ingredients into big pot, cook on low heat until awesome.</li>
<li>Add chicken to big pot and continue cooking until hungry.</li>
<li>Eat.</li>
</ol>
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<br /></div>
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<u>Chipotle Jalapeno Cheddar Cornbread</u></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EFcSQNZB_O4/U_oklu4rzHI/AAAAAAAC6ow/n67oJNlZDZA/s1600/IMG_20140824_192501.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EFcSQNZB_O4/U_oklu4rzHI/AAAAAAAC6ow/n67oJNlZDZA/s1600/IMG_20140824_192501.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a>
<li>1 package of cornbread mix</li>
<li>1 egg</li>
<li>2/3 cup milk</li>
<li>1/2 can diced jalapenos</li>
<li>1 chipotle pepper</li>
<li>Some Extra Sharp Cheddar Cheese</li>
</ul>
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Directions:</div>
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<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li>Turn on oven.</li>
<li>Mix everything together in a bowl. </li>
<li>Whisk until smooth.</li>
<li>Fill muffin tins 2/3 full of batter, cook for about 20 minutes at 350.</li>
<li>Eat.</li>
</ol>
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Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16281038926509556099noreply@blogger.com0San Marcellino Caserta, Italy40.9855017 14.17552150000005940.9615302 14.13518100000006 41.0094732 14.215862000000058tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-51851795135066957192014-03-17T08:04:00.002-04:002014-03-17T08:11:09.799-04:00"If I do Say so Myself"~ 6 lifehacks courtesy of Nana<div style="text-align: center;">
1. On treating yo'self:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: x-large;">"It's important to sometimes have a slice of pie for breakfast."</span></div>
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2. On treating others:</div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: x-large;">"If you can, say yes."</span></div>
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3. On truth:</div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: x-large;">"A good Christian like me shouldn't cuss... but a good Christian also shouldn't lie, and that man *is* an asshole!"</span><br />
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4. On marriage:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: x-large;">"You can say, 'Maybe I'm being completely unreasonable, but as your wife I am asking you to [do something the reason-ability of which is now completely irrelevant] for me', and that's okay."</span><br />
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5. On death:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: x-large;">"No, I'm not afraid to die. Heaven is going to be a *great* party... but if the good Lord isn't ready for me, I certainly won't rush him."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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6. On the Lewinski scandal/ gossip in general:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: x-large;">"It's disgusting... everyone worrying if it's true or not true, when what they should be worrying about is it's none of their damn business."</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x4e8AKenaNs/UybkCawKsUI/AAAAAAAALEQ/Qyb5uwmYYOM/s1600/Nana_Counter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x4e8AKenaNs/UybkCawKsUI/AAAAAAAALEQ/Qyb5uwmYYOM/s1600/Nana_Counter.jpg" height="452" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks for all the advice (and toast), wonderful <a href="http://www.crawhouse.com/2013/05/nana.html">Nana</a> :-) </td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-2072227963812393902014-02-08T04:50:00.000-05:002014-03-01T05:29:12.354-05:00Four Officers and a Gentleman~ That time we ruined Richard Gere's vacation... TWICE.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--b8zBlNrs_s/UvzB16s9faI/AAAAAAAAKn0/9V5eJDldMkk/s1600/trullo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--b8zBlNrs_s/UvzB16s9faI/AAAAAAAAKn0/9V5eJDldMkk/s1600/trullo.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm not sure what fairy-hobbits eat, but here's what it would be served</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
"We'll have to postpone the tour, we're waiting on Richard Gere."<br />
<br />
"Richard Gere? That's a random excuse for running late... Holy crap guys, that dude *does* look like Richard Gere. Is that seriously him?"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--V2wasg3RrM/Uve8XpcI1MI/AAAAAAACoW4/jm33qfzSj8w/s1600/IMG_20140208_110056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--V2wasg3RrM/Uve8XpcI1MI/AAAAAAACoW4/jm33qfzSj8w/s1600/IMG_20140208_110056.jpg" height="465" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cap on each roof tells you who built the house.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
The evening before....</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">
<i>Scott: So... what exactly are we doing this weekend?</i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">
<i>Lindsey: I dunno. Molly said to be there at 4 and it would be awesome. I'm pretending we're going on a blind date with southern Italy!</i></blockquote>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
Turns out what we were doing that weekend was putting Richard Gere's vacation planner to shame. We spent the night in three of Alberobello's restored Trulli houses. They are what you'd get if a really resourceful hobbit and a tax-evading fairy decided to build a home together. In a word, fantastic. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BSnwp--0uGs/UvecqTvPDiI/AAAAAAACoUo/4MThA8QPxTg/s1600/IMG_20140208_105250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BSnwp--0uGs/UvecqTvPDiI/AAAAAAACoUo/4MThA8QPxTg/s1600/IMG_20140208_105250.jpg" height="470" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Each house has a design on the roof signifying something about the family that lives there. The one on the left = broken heartsville</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
After breakfast Saturday morning, we walked around the town for a bit with the house-hotel's owner, Mimmo, who told us a bit about the town's history, and how he and his family had bought and restored these homes from several hundred years ago. Scott asked our guide how long he'd lived in Alberobello. He laughed and said, "always." Amused by our quizzical expressions, he explained that his father's family had lived in the town for 500 years, and his mother's family came all the way from Monopoli (approximately a 2-hour jog) but moved a couple centuries ago.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7P6fBbYOCLk/UwxNdSCL1bI/AAAAAAAAKsE/dyiN7LsKyVU/s1600/hobbithouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7P6fBbYOCLk/UwxNdSCL1bI/AAAAAAAAKsE/dyiN7LsKyVU/s1600/hobbithouse.jpg" height="640" width="472" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An yet-to-be-restored Trullo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Mesmerized by Mimmo's detailed walking history of the city, we quickly lost track of time and found ourselves running to make it on time for the next item on our itinerary, a tour of the world-famous Caves of Castellana, promising that we would finish up the walking tour when we returned.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0rJehPkbDMc/Uvh2Ih1gMNI/AAAAAAACogo/TX7WeN3PDMc/s1600/IMG_20140208_102459.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0rJehPkbDMc/Uvh2Ih1gMNI/AAAAAAACogo/TX7WeN3PDMc/s1600/IMG_20140208_102459.jpg" height="640" width="468" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The fellowship posing outside the Trulli</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p8Fw-OdqmmE/UwxMYdza-nI/AAAAAAAAKrQ/Xp7bljaWiYE/s1600/cistern.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p8Fw-OdqmmE/UwxMYdza-nI/AAAAAAAAKrQ/Xp7bljaWiYE/s1600/cistern.jpg" height="640" width="472" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wishing well inside our house. These houses were built with a cistern underneath that the inhabitants would use to service all of their watering needs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mElu7HvJA6U/UwxMl0H2EDI/AAAAAAAAKrY/VUkRkRO-2tg/s1600/girls+cistern.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mElu7HvJA6U/UwxMl0H2EDI/AAAAAAAAKrY/VUkRkRO-2tg/s1600/girls+cistern.jpg" height="640" width="476" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kylie & Avalon peering into a cistern in one of the unrestored Trulli</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
Upon arrival at the <a href="http://www.grottedicastellana.it/" target="_blank">Grotte Di Castellana</a>, the tour guide gave us the a quick background of the caves in rapid-fire Italian and English, while we awaited the arrival of the rest of this mysterious <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000152/" target="_blank">Richard Gere</a> character. Ultimately, the wait proved too long and they sent us out with a different guide who spoke only Italian and seemed genuinely annoyed at the pace of our kid-heavy party and our stupid English-only brains, but we were not to be denied our English-speaking tour! <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zHVLEo0IMb8/Uve8XuUQWSI/AAAAAAACoW4/CVf7ZKXkyBo/s1600/IMG_20140208_123039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zHVLEo0IMb8/Uve8XuUQWSI/AAAAAAACoW4/CVf7ZKXkyBo/s1600/IMG_20140208_123039.jpg" height="473" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So... this place exists</td></tr>
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In a carefully orchestrated plot, Avalon had a superb meltdown, involving a story about a ballerina trapped in the rocks (really just an unfortunately shaped rock) and why nobody was saving her, and Lindsey leveraged that to fall behind in the dark caves to console her, and I presume to snap creepy paparazzi-style photos of a kindly silver-fox who looked not completely unlike Richard Gere, whose tour group was rapidly catching up to our own.<br />
<br />
Ultimately, the English-speaking contingent was gracious enough to resorb us into their ranks, and we received yet another amazing tour of this particular slice of Southern Italia. Many thanks to Mr. Gere and his official party for being friendly, understanding, and helping us wrangle up our party on the several mile walk through the caves, while we slowly ruined their private tour :).</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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<div style="text-align: left;">
Panoramic view Scott took inside the main cave: </div>
<iframe frameborder="0" height="315" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://maps.google.com/maps?layer=c&panoid=keYn8P6obuQAAAQJKivVhg&ie=UTF8&source=embed&output=svembed&cbp=13%2C60.14534992846927%2C%2C0%2C2.4749642346208987" width="560"></iframe><br />
<div>
<small><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/views/" style="color: blue; text-align: left;">Views</a>: <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/views/view/101288910136413860962/photo/keYn8P6obuQAAAQJKivVhg" style="color: blue; text-align: left;">Inside the Grotte Di Castellana</a> by <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/views/profile/101288910136413860962" style="color: blue; text-align: left;">Scott Crawford</a></small></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fk6ljA8wnXM/Uve8XsaBioI/AAAAAAACoW4/a5xN806tI9g/s1600/IMG_20140208_133055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fk6ljA8wnXM/Uve8XsaBioI/AAAAAAACoW4/a5xN806tI9g/s1600/IMG_20140208_133055.jpg" height="320" width="235" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I call the big one, Slagathor</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yMBIlO2SQmU/UwxQNcDz_YI/AAAAAAAAKtc/FpEJY4rkheI/s1600/scott+&+patrick+caves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yMBIlO2SQmU/UwxQNcDz_YI/AAAAAAAAKtc/FpEJY4rkheI/s1600/scott+&+patrick+caves.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scott & Patrick in the Grotto</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tNgjXMMGD1I/Uve8Xr1Pj8I/AAAAAAACoW4/WtqrMu_bZIQ/s1600/IMG_20140208_133020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tNgjXMMGD1I/Uve8Xr1Pj8I/AAAAAAACoW4/WtqrMu_bZIQ/s1600/IMG_20140208_133020.jpg" height="467" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The White Cave where we totally snuck out our camera and snapped a picture completely unbeknownst to our tour guide (probably)</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
Returning from the cave tour, we met back up with Mimmo to finish our walking tour of Alberobello ("just another 10 minutes or so") and were treated to another hour or so of wandering through all the sites of the town, with our tour guide getting stopped by local artists/police/old men on bikes asking if he'd heard that <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0113071/?ref_=nm_flmg_act_28" target="_blank">Mr. Lancelot</a> was in town and would be walking around also. As exciting as this was for all the locals, Mimmo in his professionalism gave us a first-rate experience, and didn't even cast us aside when we saw <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0084434/" target="_blank">Mr. Zack Mayo-naise, the original naval aviator's</a> group walking through town unaccompanied and having nowhere else to go! Thanks for being not <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0250797/?ref_=nm_flmg_act_20" target="_blank">Unfaithful</a>, Mimmo!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_2oEKg8aYJQ/UxGKi34J_OI/AAAAAAACosg/JDVHxL8y_OE/s1600/IMG_20140208_162934.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_2oEKg8aYJQ/UxGKi34J_OI/AAAAAAACosg/JDVHxL8y_OE/s1600/IMG_20140208_162934.jpg" height="468" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Molly did well organizing this trip for us.</td></tr>
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<br />
Unfortunately for Mimmo (and Mr. <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0205271/?ref_=nm_flmg_act_22" target="_blank">Dr. T</a>), when we got back to the hotel, we found out that while we were walking, Mr. Gere had shown up looking for Mimmo to give him a private tour, probably not completely unlike<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0100405/?ref_=nm_flmg_act_35" target="_blank"> Mr. Edward Lewis looking for his Vivian</a>. Of course, his phone was off and that's how we ruined Richard Gere's weekend for the second time in as many hours!</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l4UsbB0vJGM/UwxO6id3XfI/AAAAAAAAKtA/C-vIUZpkwm4/s1600/alberobello+silly+girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l4UsbB0vJGM/UwxO6id3XfI/AAAAAAAAKtA/C-vIUZpkwm4/s1600/alberobello+silly+girls.jpg" height="640" width="476" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Take that, Richard Gere!</td></tr>
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All in all, we had an incredible weekend, and if Richard Gere ever reads this, he'll now know the full extent of the weekend he *could* have had. Many thanks to Molly & Alex for organizing such an awesome trip, the encyclopedic knowledge of our tour guides, and of course Warren for seducing the lady at the wine-tasting place with his eyes. Next time, here's hoping Lou Gossett Jr. shows up too!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hKMK_hpqY8U/UwxNG9UvnKI/AAAAAAAAKrs/EUsLkqXow90/s1600/girls+view+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hKMK_hpqY8U/UwxNG9UvnKI/AAAAAAAAKrs/EUsLkqXow90/s1600/girls+view+2.jpg" height="640" width="476" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girls found a gelato sign at the bottom of the stairs-- what a view!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z1tfqABuLhc/UwxQOlj5UFI/AAAAAAAAKtk/UssS8EoeAYc/s1600/warren+orange.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z1tfqABuLhc/UwxQOlj5UFI/AAAAAAAAKtk/UssS8EoeAYc/s1600/warren+orange.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Avalon crushing on Mr. Warren</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vcki2nnY3eI/UxGKi1qi-SI/AAAAAAACosg/QDSfA177VOQ/s1600/IMG_20140208_164346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vcki2nnY3eI/UxGKi1qi-SI/AAAAAAACosg/QDSfA177VOQ/s1600/IMG_20140208_164346.jpg" height="470" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dusk In Alberobello</td></tr>
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(Not Pictured, a shot of Richard Gere Lindsey creepily snapped from her purse)<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com2Alberobello Bari, Italy40.7864228 17.24093040000002540.7623773 17.200589900000026 40.8104683 17.281270900000024tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-40540825694295519792014-01-31T06:04:00.002-05:002014-03-01T15:12:35.211-05:00That's AmoreTwo years ago, <a href="http://www.crawhouse.com/2012/01/so-italians-love-babies.html">I met you</a>. You were new and exciting and scary and beautiful and I didn't know what to make of you. <a href="http://www.crawhouse.com/2012/01/scott-i-really-need-to-do-better-job.html">Then you embraced my kids~</a> you carried and cooed over Avalon. You smiled and spoke kindly to Kylie and when she didn't speak back, you sat quietly with her and played with rocks alongside her until she trusted you.<br />
<br />
You drove like a thing possessed and terrified me. You were loud and confusing and incomprehensible. I felt lonely and out of place and you noticed. You brought me food when I was too overwhelmed to cook, and when I would sigh and say I understood nothing, you simply smiled and made me an espresso. I fell for you.<br />
<br />
You invited me to <a href="http://www.crawhouse.com/2012/07/la-promessa-which-is-italian-for-even.html">incredible parties</a> and kept me up half the night with your laughter and music and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9vjxZ87vQJQ">fireworks</a>. You showed me where to find the best food I've ever had and introduced me to your whole family. Some days I woke up in disbelief I was lucky enough to have you in my life.<br />
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You're unreliable. I go days or even weeks without talking to my family because your power's turned off. I take my kids to the gym to shower and bitterly regret meeting you when there's no hot water for days on end. You don't take care of yourself and <a href="http://news.nationalpost.com/2010/11/22/photos-the-garbage-crisis-in-naples-italy/">I look at you covered in your own filth and I'm disgusted</a>. Some nights I want to scream at you for being so careless with something so beautiful as yourself.<br />
<br />
...and you *are* beautiful. My god, you are beautiful. I've never seen your equal... and just when I think I can't do this anymore, you surprise and delight me. <a href="http://www.crawhouse.com/2012/07/toscana-wine-castles-and-boatloads-of.html">A weekend in a Tuscan vineyard</a>... playing checkers with the retired men in the town square... tiling your parents' roof for them in your dress shirt... styling your hair and wearing cologne to take your nonna to church... you melt me.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vBHNmw0A80M#t=277">Your secrets begin to come out</a>. Your <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N8UAihE06AU">dark past that you tried to hide</a>. The repercussions that will echo for generations<a href="http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2013/11/21/italy-s-triangle-of-death-naples-residents-blame-child-cancer-rates-on-mob-disposal-of-toxic-chemicals.html"> as kids become weak and sick and die because of your greed</a>. I can't reconcile the terrifying rumors with the the splendor I've come to love. I thought it couldn't be true. Yet there are the police barricades... the bulldozers... <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/world/2013/nov/17/naples-protest-toxic-waste">the protests</a>... You started showing up <a href="http://espresso.repubblica.it/inchieste/2013/11/13/news/bevi-napoli-e-poi-muori-1.141086">in the local papers</a>, then <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-24976917">on websites in Britain</a>, and now your crimes have made it all the way to <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2014/01/30/world/europe/beneath-southern-italy-a-deadly-mob-legacy.html?smid=fb-share&_r=0">New York papers</a>. <br />
<br />
Napoli... my gorgeous, wild, charming Napoli... <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triangle_of_death_(Italy)">what have you done</a>? I look at my kids in horror wondering how much you've hurt them. I awake from nightmares of my girls pale and emaciated, dying from your <a href="http://www.thehindu.com/sci-tech/energy-and-environment/mafia-toxic-waste-dumping-poisons-italy-farmlands/article5482964.ece">poisoned fruit and water</a>. I question how much of it is my fault for staying with you as long as I have. The panic rises until I can literally see my heart beating in my chest as if frantically trying to leap away from these thoughts. I fall back asleep resolved to leave you.<br />
<br />
...then morning comes bringing radiant sunrises and the smell of bread and pastries and espresso. I get my kids ready for school and as we leave the house you smile and wave and toss us chocolates from your balcony. So I drive to school with tears pricking my eyes and my heart breaking just a little bit more. <br />
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Pretty soon we will leave, and that is for the best. We will love you always.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-alIB8WESr7Q/UuuDKxVjjfI/AAAAAAAAJ_A/qRFT6x4wG1U/s1600/bella+napoli.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-alIB8WESr7Q/UuuDKxVjjfI/AAAAAAAAJ_A/qRFT6x4wG1U/s1600/bella+napoli.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></div>
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I know most of you are far away and don't have a strong grasp on where we fit into all of this. When you read 'Casal di Principe' that's where the Casalesi clan is from and where we live. <br />
<br />
4.1 kilometers from our house to a confirmed dump site.<br />
2.7 kilometers from our house to the location where the New York Times photo was taken<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-11252417288389401422013-12-13T04:33:00.001-05:002014-03-01T15:12:38.874-05:00Life in Suburbia (NSFW)<div style="text-align: center;">
I believe days should begin happily. For me, this means snuggles with my littles, a cappuccino, and club music from 5-10 years ago. It becomes a fun game. It's not monotony, it's a girls' <strike>night out</strike> morning in!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9Cd6GAYMfzc/UqrP9MBgLuI/AAAAAAAAIRs/_W6tv7tk4yU/s1600/clubbing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="181" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9Cd6GAYMfzc/UqrP9MBgLuI/AAAAAAAAIRs/_W6tv7tk4yU/s320/clubbing.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">yes, I Googled 'night club' and added the first image I saw</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
As in, "hey ladies, drinks are on me!" (Because the drinks are Carnation instant breakfast, and it's my job to nourish you) Or, "All right ladies, let's get fancy!" (change into something other than their pajamas/ the clothes I fell asleep in the night before while nursing Patrick) </div>
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Inevitably, the cappuccino wears off/ Ludacris comes on, and I realize my morning is less this:</div>
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...and more this:</div>
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...and that is sad. This morning, though, something changed! A thought full of Christmas cheer flitted into my mind! A thought of second chances and hope and redemption! Michael Bolton went from a punchline to this!</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/GI6CfKcMhjY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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So, downtrodden moms and dads and nerdy white guys everywhere, if that no-talent assclown can do it, there's hope for us all! Ho ho ho, and a very merry Christmas :-)</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-9876526375169830972013-11-20T11:56:00.003-05:002014-03-01T15:12:43.399-05:00Finland: the testicles of the eurozone<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vH1e1hDXIt8/UozpAV5K9tI/AAAAAAAAHv0/vsj6Iv1UpD4/s1600/marathon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vH1e1hDXIt8/UozpAV5K9tI/AAAAAAAAHv0/vsj6Iv1UpD4/s400/marathon.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scott's unrelenting awesomeness (second marathon) giving us an other excuse to travel</td></tr>
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<b>"Finland~ where 4 am looks the same as 10 pm, and both are indistinguishable from noon." </b><br />
~first sentence in my journal from our time in Finland<br />
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<b>"Mom! Finland is a GREAT place! The power hasn't even gone out today! We should stay here forever, probably."</b> ~Kylie<br />
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<b>"Internet speed in Finland... over Wifi... while streaming Youtube: 15x faster than the hardwired DSL at my house in Naples. *sigh*"</b> ~Scott's status update<br />
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<b>"Finland has so many foods! We had dinner that wasn't pizza OR pasta!!!"</b> ~Avalon<br />
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<b>"Your words should be better than your silence. If they aren't, stay silent."</b> ~Finnish saying<br />
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That actually sums up our experience fairly completely. If you're just here to get Finland's vibe, you can probably close this window now. If you're more the 'I like pictures & sexual innuendo type', feel free to continue reading :-)<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><u>Pictures</u></b></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hg32q448eLU/UlMZ143lo8I/AAAAAAAAHa0/ECYEOGPthMs/s1600/ducks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="258" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hg32q448eLU/UlMZ143lo8I/AAAAAAAAHa0/ECYEOGPthMs/s320/ducks.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enchanting parks everywhere</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8mUJfVlOQHM/UlMZsRf0UQI/AAAAAAAAHag/pkOhfo522k8/s1600/Finland+faces.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8mUJfVlOQHM/UlMZsRf0UQI/AAAAAAAAHag/pkOhfo522k8/s320/Finland+faces.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love you guys :-)</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d4DQihJPzb4/UlMZy1VsmzI/AAAAAAAAHao/yzD6Uq5hdak/s1600/reindeer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d4DQihJPzb4/UlMZy1VsmzI/AAAAAAAAHao/yzD6Uq5hdak/s320/reindeer.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A stuffed reindeer carcass! Let's pat it for an hour!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sGL_pnUebtY/UlMZ1igWwzI/AAAAAAAAHaw/MySyASKN46g/s1600/sandbox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sGL_pnUebtY/UlMZ1igWwzI/AAAAAAAAHaw/MySyASKN46g/s320/sandbox.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quite possibly Kylie's favorite part of the entire vacation</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K6AkdFJ5qAw/Ul602lIY9rI/AAAAAAAAHeU/4skbes6qs8c/s1600/rain+pants.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K6AkdFJ5qAw/Ul602lIY9rI/AAAAAAAAHeU/4skbes6qs8c/s320/rain+pants.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At first we just thought EVERY kid we saw was returning from a fishing trip. Turns out it rains so often they have an outfit for it, much like the requisite snowsuits I had growing up.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iiRqvxwdK7U/Ul60_DVd-5I/AAAAAAAAHec/oRtL-YKJrrQ/s1600/tag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="205" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iiRqvxwdK7U/Ul60_DVd-5I/AAAAAAAAHec/oRtL-YKJrrQ/s320/tag.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of many games of tag with Aunt Christy, who is unequivocally the best</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DccIn3-n-O0/UoznqWeFW6I/AAAAAAAAHvo/zQjM4hifm9A/s1600/estonia+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DccIn3-n-O0/UoznqWeFW6I/AAAAAAAAHvo/zQjM4hifm9A/s320/estonia+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is good you came in summer. Winter can be verrrrrrry depressing<br />
(Estonia)</td></tr>
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<u><b>Innuendo</b></u></div>
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This actually isn't innuendo. What is it? I'm not sure. Let's make it a fun multiple choice question! This is:</div>
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a) a map of the eurozone</div>
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b) a low resolution picture that was all I could find</div>
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c) what happens when you let Europeans design something</div>
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d) the best thing to ever happen to Sweden</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ejYeBGgyDPo/Ul_dtxfhRWI/AAAAAAAAHf0/FtvhwQ19B3s/s1600/2+Euro+Finland+2006+KM+105+-+628.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ejYeBGgyDPo/Ul_dtxfhRWI/AAAAAAAAHf0/FtvhwQ19B3s/s320/2+Euro+Finland+2006+KM+105+-+628.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Admit it: now that you've seen it *without* Norway, you can't un-see it</td></tr>
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This isn't really innuendo either. I should have come up with a better heading. So what is it? An awkward family moment. We took a boat ride to an island zoo (awesome!).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N3h4WzAUNe4/UozQos46SaI/AAAAAAAAHu0/YfAeBPCOQm0/s1600/boat+light.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="302" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N3h4WzAUNe4/UozQos46SaI/AAAAAAAAHu0/YfAeBPCOQm0/s400/boat+light.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a traffic light for <i>boats</i>!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iHIsfCWrM_Y/UozRqaagTFI/AAAAAAAAHvA/ZCGF-2B8UNc/s1600/island+zoo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iHIsfCWrM_Y/UozRqaagTFI/AAAAAAAAHvA/ZCGF-2B8UNc/s400/island+zoo.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">almost there! also awesome!</td></tr>
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...and then this happened:<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-B3D1FgM7bgU/UozUh3-KjGI/AAAAAAAAHvM/L_gWmXc6STo/s1600/peacock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-B3D1FgM7bgU/UozUh3-KjGI/AAAAAAAAHvM/L_gWmXc6STo/s400/peacock.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The girls saw (and became enamored with) this peacock. Which, unfortunately, Avalon kept calling the "he-cock". As in, "Momma look at that pretty he-cock!" or</div>
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That sure is a big he-cock, huh Kylie?" </div>
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"When I grow up, I'm gonna get a he-cock!" </div>
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"Yay, yay, the pretty he-cock is following us!"</div>
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* sigh *</div>
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Lastly (but not leastly), we came across this in our "what to do in Finland" brochure:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U8BaFQrYGBQ/UozmnjQsb2I/AAAAAAAAHvc/S6L0vq4HMCw/s1600/Finnish+Nightlife.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U8BaFQrYGBQ/UozmnjQsb2I/AAAAAAAAHvc/S6L0vq4HMCw/s400/Finnish+Nightlife.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finland, it's a bold move presuming I'll *love* having my calf bitten while kneeling on a toilet and leaning out a window</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-48785302219705155192013-11-18T09:55:00.001-05:002013-11-19T07:44:15.553-05:00Patrick Lawrence<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z0kziyT45Zo/UoooNPtv3kI/AAAAAAAAHtQ/va-RNrNoZzA/s1600/Benvenuto+Patrick-27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z0kziyT45Zo/UoooNPtv3kI/AAAAAAAAHtQ/va-RNrNoZzA/s640/Benvenuto+Patrick-27.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Patrick Lawrence, every time I write your name, I smile. It's your daddy and my daddy all rolled into a tiny little you. I'm so glad you're here.<br />
<br />
This has been a hard year, little man, so very hard in a lot of ways. I was the sickest I've ever been... my back has gotten so bad the doctor said I might never run again... I couldn't be there for your Gramps when he lost his mom... and I had to say goodbye to <a href="http://www.crawhouse.com/2013/05/nana.html">one of my favorite people in the world</a>. <br />
<br />
It would have been so easy to dismiss 2013 as a year we'd have been better off without.<br />
<br />
...and then I held you. I touched your little cheek and kissed your tiny nose and everything hard and sad just melted away.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TCFcl_PW4NE/UoonoaFcZRI/AAAAAAAAHs4/R4-nyyjhU3Q/s1600/Benvenuto+Patrick-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TCFcl_PW4NE/UoonoaFcZRI/AAAAAAAAHs4/R4-nyyjhU3Q/s320/Benvenuto+Patrick-8.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tWfqLmkIUgo/UoonzBDfu3I/AAAAAAAAHtA/li7H2A4BrmY/s1600/Benvenuto+Patrick-17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tWfqLmkIUgo/UoonzBDfu3I/AAAAAAAAHtA/li7H2A4BrmY/s320/Benvenuto+Patrick-17.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nxjNKU1RLEY/Uoon5Oidk1I/AAAAAAAAHtI/0Zpx2NE0BtM/s1600/Benvenuto+Patrick-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nxjNKU1RLEY/Uoon5Oidk1I/AAAAAAAAHtI/0Zpx2NE0BtM/s320/Benvenuto+Patrick-20.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Thank you for being the promise of sunshine I could daydream about when everything seemed dark. I thought losing my Nana would shatter me. Thanks for being with me during that goodbye. I took care of myself for your sake even when I wouldn't have for my own. Thanks for that, little prince, and for giving us the gift of having a newborn in Italy.<br />
<br />
Our neighbors are thrilled with your birth, and bring us food constantly so that I'll have plenty of milk for you. Men stop in the street to smile and pat your cheek. Cashiers leave their registers to hold you. Restaurant owners exclaim "auguri!" and come over to kiss your little feet and hands. I've fallen madly in love with you, little one, and this section of Napoli has, too.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jq3zbMYE2AM/UooojhISZiI/AAAAAAAAHtY/H8L34baPrLE/s1600/Benvenuto+Patrick-31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jq3zbMYE2AM/UooojhISZiI/AAAAAAAAHtY/H8L34baPrLE/s320/Benvenuto+Patrick-31.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I ate approximately half of this</td></tr>
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<br />
Every day my heart feels full to capacity... and every night it must get bigger, because the next morning I wake up and somehow love you even more. I'm thrilled that you are here, sweet boy, and I couldn't love you more. ...at least until I wake up tomorrow :-)<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SdRri25DASo/Uoor6F8NN8I/AAAAAAAAHt0/owzokJ_w698/s1600/Monster+Patrick-24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SdRri25DASo/Uoor6F8NN8I/AAAAAAAAHt0/owzokJ_w698/s640/Monster+Patrick-24.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-35876507144632368502013-08-13T07:22:00.001-04:002013-08-13T07:22:08.304-04:00Black Forest Getaway<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Gabe continued his awesome streak and watched the wee ladies so Scott and I could have a grownup weekend. In Germany. Nestled between the Black Forest and thermal spas. Life is just so full of lovely sometimes :-)<br />
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We started our Saturday with a drive through the Black Forest to see some castles. <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zYtCmBL6c5U/UfNJc3o5v4I/AAAAAAAAGgQ/kppH8-Bk3FY/s1600/Burg+Hohenzollern.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zYtCmBL6c5U/UfNJc3o5v4I/AAAAAAAAGgQ/kppH8-Bk3FY/s320/Burg+Hohenzollern.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sDskOSO-mmE/UfNJ0E0EH2I/AAAAAAAAGgg/8XUMCYZztrU/s1600/castle+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sDskOSO-mmE/UfNJ0E0EH2I/AAAAAAAAGgg/8XUMCYZztrU/s320/castle+view.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2lVTpFQ_xIg/UfNKBS9QX7I/AAAAAAAAGgo/DRSe4zcTzIk/s1600/castle+tower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2lVTpFQ_xIg/UfNKBS9QX7I/AAAAAAAAGgo/DRSe4zcTzIk/s320/castle+tower.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
As predicted, my rapidly expanding belly quickly grew hungry and we had lunch in a castle listening to a fairly great band. I think they were local high schoolers, and we were serenaded with Rolling in the Deep, Another One Bites the Dust, and other surprising-in-a-castle selections at Burg Hohenzollern.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e68Pa6AFPj0/UfNJsSwkAvI/AAAAAAAAGgc/2YoQWAIeHXA/s1600/castle+belly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e68Pa6AFPj0/UfNJsSwkAvI/AAAAAAAAGgc/2YoQWAIeHXA/s320/castle+belly.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the aforementioned rapidly expanding 6 month belly</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jDYcv2OkSyE/UfNI4AdVfsI/AAAAAAAAGgM/mSUXWqHlFA4/s1600/castle+lunch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jDYcv2OkSyE/UfNI4AdVfsI/AAAAAAAAGgM/mSUXWqHlFA4/s320/castle+lunch.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Castle lunch (ps 'clouded apple and elderberry juice' just tastes like cranberry)</td></tr>
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We stopped at Schloss Lichtenstein on our way back, <i>and it had a beer garden and ropes course</i>! Well done, you! Followed up our castle voyage with a trip to <a href="http://www.carasana.de/en/caracalla-spa/home/">Caracalla Spa</a>. I want to describe it. I wouldn't do it justice. It's kind of like the best pool day ever... in thermal water at varying and awesome temperatures... with little kiosks containing juicers... and an array of saunas... or dampfbad... just delightful. Evening concluded with dinner served to us by people in lederhosen that went until 11:00. I dozed off at the table around 10:45 :-)<br />
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Sunday we went to <a href="http://www.carasana.de/en/friedrichsbad/home/">Freidrichsbad spa</a>, which was a borderline religious experience. According to Mark Twain:<br />
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"After 10 minutes at Freidrichsbad, you forget time. After 20 minutes, the world."</div>
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Again, I'm not going to do this place justice. I'm certainly not going to outdo Mark Twain :-) However, it was like being brought back in time, and once you arrive, finding that you're an aristocrat... or super back in time, a Roman senator. The spa as it stands today was built in 1877 and was made to cater to the aristocracy and royalty of the time. The original spa, Acqua Aurelia, was built in 69 AD, and the ruins are still recognizable and open for touring. </div>
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At its most simplistic, Freidrichsbad is a series of thermal baths, saunas, scrubs, and massages. The first eight stations gradually raise your body temperature (with an amazing soap and brush massage midway through), then stations 9-13 lower your body temperature back to normal. The experience ends with a cream massage, being burrito wrapped like a newborn in a quiet room (we both fell asleep) and a leisurely tea and reading time to re-acclimate to the world you forgot existed. <br />
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The rest of the weekend was spent strolling through the tranquil town enjoying life, but now that we're back in sweaty Naples I'm getting too jealous of past-me to write about it, so here are some pictures and I'll caption them for you and call it good :-)</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8yWM6sw8LJQ/UgfXRPZGEGI/AAAAAAAAGns/o4h5t_uOW3c/s1600/Baden+brook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8yWM6sw8LJQ/UgfXRPZGEGI/AAAAAAAAGns/o4h5t_uOW3c/s1600/Baden+brook.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The little stream that ran through town</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1UVLUaCJFv8/UgfXFOs3quI/AAAAAAAAGnk/iWeIoA6rgEg/s1600/Baden+fountain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1UVLUaCJFv8/UgfXFOs3quI/AAAAAAAAGnk/iWeIoA6rgEg/s1600/Baden+fountain.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">fountains everywhere</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T9MFsS9I_MA/UgfXYcNjCnI/AAAAAAAAGn8/1sG80g4stt0/s1600/creepy+display.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T9MFsS9I_MA/UgfXYcNjCnI/AAAAAAAAGn8/1sG80g4stt0/s1600/creepy+display.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Germany: you're clean and efficient and lovely.<br />
Leave fashion to other countries.<br />
Don't recreate the Red Wedding in a shop window.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9LKZhPjOFdQ/UgfX1at-pfI/AAAAAAAAGoc/D9kG-WznDIA/s1600/fairytale+background.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9LKZhPjOFdQ/UgfX1at-pfI/AAAAAAAAGoc/D9kG-WznDIA/s1600/fairytale+background.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This entire country looks like a fairy tale</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l4qo-rqw7EI/UgfXS8kadOI/AAAAAAAAGn0/acskGAuzDlE/s1600/Scott+fountain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l4qo-rqw7EI/UgfXS8kadOI/AAAAAAAAGn0/acskGAuzDlE/s1600/Scott+fountain.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">pictured: Scott enjoying a fountain<br />
not pictured: the adorable old french couples,<br />
ladies with parasols, men with berets</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, Germany, even your barns are efficient!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously, guys, not your forte</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iTT5g1Cw9-E/UgfaTiAv01I/AAAAAAAAGow/mYIQnGZV4tA/s1600/Konig+Cafe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iTT5g1Cw9-E/UgfaTiAv01I/AAAAAAAAGow/mYIQnGZV4tA/s1600/Konig+Cafe.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Forest cake at Cafe Konig, as<br />
recommended by Tolstoy. Cared for neither<br />
the cake, nor the Cafe. In future, will<br />
not take food advice from deceased,<br />
depressing authors</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S1DCScJPDj8/UgfaTM0g6TI/AAAAAAAAGoo/0460uBIDU40/s1600/koffeehaus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S1DCScJPDj8/UgfaTM0g6TI/AAAAAAAAGoo/0460uBIDU40/s1600/koffeehaus.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Far nicer experience at Kaffeehause. How every day should begin :-)</td></tr>
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And now, for your viewing and educational pleasure, some awesome German words courtesy of Ryanair:<br />
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tantenverfuher: young man of good manners you suspect of devious motives (literally 'aunt seducer')</div>
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kummerspeck: excess weight gained from emotional eating (literally 'grief bacon')</div>
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drachenfutter: gift/ peace offering guilty husbands give to their wives (literally 'dragon fodder')</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-3519800166001405842013-08-10T02:52:00.002-04:002013-08-10T03:15:07.687-04:00Hurricane Ava<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Oh, Avalon. My lovely little hurricane of a child. You are three years old today, and it's wonderful and devastating at the same time. Somehow in what felt like a few weeks, another year went by. Last night I told you, "this is the last night you'll be two!" and felt like my Nana. Last night your dad said, "you'll never be two again" and I wanted to cry. There's so much about you right now that I wish I could freeze in time.<br />
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You're dazzling, little one. Everywhere we go, you sparkle and charm and people love you. You love them back. You're so smart and roughly 93% of your brain is devoted to animals. Every day you choose a new one to emulate, and spend your days barking like a puppy carrying things in your teeth, galloping like a horse, or flapping your wings like a dragon.<br />
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From the depths of your soul you believe you are a princess. You go days without taking off your tiara. You wear your princess dress to the commissary, the beach, and the movie theater. Your imagination is incredible, and whatever world you happen to be occupying at a given moment, we're all drawn in, too. If you're Wendy, Dad's Captain Hook. If you're Cinderella, Kylie's a handsome prince. If you're a baby scarlet macaw, then I'm your momma bird building us a nest.<br />
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You are our little Italiana. If we'd allow it, you'd start every day with a cappuccino. When you speak, your hands tell stories. Everything you feel, you feel deeply and passionately. When you're disappointed, your wail would put a dirge to shame. When you're happy, your laughter pierces every corner of the house. When you're feeling lovey, you catapult yourself onto us clinging like a baby koala.<br />
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You bring us so much joy.<br />
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You're Shirley Temple and a cherub and a naughty little imp rolled into one.<br />
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At some point, your shamelessness will probably disappear. You will no longer proudly announce you've poo-ed yourself adding, "ta-da!" You'll call them 'pajamas' instead of 'pajamins'... You may even realize that the gate guard is waving the next car in, not waving to you because "he thinks I'm so cute!"<br />
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I'll really miss my firework of a two year old. If the past 3 years are any indication though, growing older just means you're going to fill our lives with even more awesome. We love you, Ava Rain.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-70349002930922952102013-07-09T05:51:00.002-04:002013-08-10T11:19:18.292-04:00Our bella weekend<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Armed with Gabe, friends, and a four day weekend, the Crawfords traveled from the boot's ankle all the way to the upper-knee (assuming Italy is a thigh-high boot, which I think is a safe assumption).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From light blue Campania to olive green Liguria</td></tr>
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First stop was<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lucca"> Lucca</a>. Oh, Lucca, how I love thee. As in, debated aloud abandoning all of our worldly possessions and just never leaving. We spent the morning walking around the wall (designed by Leondardo Da Vinci) surrounding the city. It is wide enough that it has become a promenade where lucky locals and tourists can jog/ bike/ walk their dogs/ bask in the glory that is being alive. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucca! You built a playground <i>on top of a wall</i>! You beautiful genius, you!</td></tr>
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As we continued our stroll, I told the girls how this wall was initially built to keep the town safe from attackers. In could-not-have-planned-it-better-fashion, a nice Italian popped his head out from what used to be an arrowslit to say ciao to the 'bella principesse". Kylie was pretty excited about the idea of medieval battles and we told warrior princess stories the rest of the walk.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom! We must keep walking so people will see me and say 'Oh- she must be the princess of the wall!'</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Be still my heart- a tiny moat!!! That's it, we're never leaving.</td></tr>
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Around noon my "let's just stay here for ever and ever" was outvoted, so we had some incredible gelato at the renowned <a href="https://maps.google.it/maps?ie=UTF-8&q=gelateria+veneta+lucca+italy&fb=1&gl=it&hq=gelateria+veneta&hnear=0x12d5839a50ed08ef:0x792a2692654dd9e1,Lucca+Province+of+Lucca&cid=0,0,486572267352372088&ei=-Z7bUc31DIeW0QWVroAw&ved=0CMgBEPwSMAI">Gelateria Veneta</a> and headed to La Spezia/ Cinque Terre.<br />
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Cinque Terre ('five lands') is made up of five little towns clustered on the shore of Liguria. They look similar to the Amalfi coast~ colorful buildings stacked on cliffs leading down to the water~ but are more secluded. Because they are so hard to reach, they were (and sometimes still are) considered 'a hidden treasure' of Italy. This is no longer the case, so if you're looking for quiet exploration/ authentic Italy, go elsewhere or not during high season. If you're looking for beautiful scenery/ lovely hiking/ great pesto and wine, Cinque Terre in the summer is still a safe bet.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Itinerary, Lindsey-style</td></tr>
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I cannot believe I just posted that. At any rate, if you look at day #2 you can see (maybe) that there's a shore, and 5 towns along it, and maybe if you can discern crappy penmanship you can even see their names :-) </div>
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<b>Monterosso</b>: The largest and most resort-ish of the towns. With their fitness and motivation, our friends hiked there (look at that- my silly picture is already paying off), with my pregnancy/ spinal fracture I took the train. We really have the most amazing friends... despite hours of hiking/ driving/ cars getting turned around & vandalized/ etc. they still showed up smiling, ready for hours of playing and exploring.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GifMU2iZZ1I/UdvCNRCcHPI/AAAAAAAAGMc/GJLnfW7LW18/s1600/bubbles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GifMU2iZZ1I/UdvCNRCcHPI/AAAAAAAAGMc/GJLnfW7LW18/s400/bubbles.jpg" width="313" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Well I've got that interview in the morning [on her book/ life/ <a href="http://sistersforafghangirls.com/">mission to rescue an abused girl</a>] but we wanted to squeeze in a visit with you guys. Also, I brought bubbles for the princesses!" Seriously Kate, you're my hero.</td></tr>
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Not pictured, but very much remembered: Alex, Brian & Warren pretending to be water monsters with the girls; MD & Laura helping Kylie with her giant rock collection; Molly, Kate, and Rebecca exploring the town and helping Kylie and Avalon determine which gelato flavor would be the very best; Laura announcing her hero-status and passing out mojitos for the grown ups and about 8 pounds of trail mix for the kids... </div>
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Lounging on the beach next to Scott... watching our happy laughing Napoli-family... feeling baby boy squirming and kicking... I wish I could have just bottled that moment up for when life gets hard, to help me remember that sometimes, life is perfect.</div>
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<b>Vernazza</b>: The Crawford contingent didn't make it to the town, but it's where the rest of the group was staying. At the very least, we can vouch for availability even when you don't make reservations until the week before your trip in the height of summer :-)</div>
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<b>Corniglia</b>: After getting off the train, one must hike to get to the town. As my itinerary so succinctly puts it, "no thank you, hiking". The rest of the group agreed, so we have no tips for the curious reader.</div>
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<b>Manarola</b>: A nice little town with good food and a fun swimming area. In lieu of adjectives, here are some pictures:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Take off my crown to swim? What am I, a peasant?</td></tr>
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Gabe jumps off the top of the rock (fails to impress any hot locals, desperately impresses his little nieces)</div>
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<b>Riomaggiore</b>: The quaintest of the towns we explored. This is where my (Grant) family stayed/ fell in love with the first time we went to Italy. We (the Crawfords + Gabe) stopped here for a lovely dinner and tasted the famous Cinque Terre wine, which didn't disappoint. Yes, there is a bottle waiting to be opened when baby boy & I get home from the hospital :-)</div>
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The wee ladies were less impressed with the quaintness, and had *nearly* given up on Riomaggiore. Then this happened:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RBh7fTOrspw/UdvTIBQFavI/AAAAAAAAGNs/xhLOP2JdxkE/s1600/bubble+cannon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RBh7fTOrspw/UdvTIBQFavI/AAAAAAAAGNs/xhLOP2JdxkE/s640/bubble+cannon.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For no apparent reason, a DJ booth and bubble cannon were set up outside of the train station. Quickly declared the best day ever.</td></tr>
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<b>La Spezia</b>: The five of us stayed in a nice apartment here. Most of our time was spent in Cinque Terre, but we can highly recommend the focaccia & cornetti La Spezia has to offer.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rh8T0keu5qM/Uduhl4sqKLI/AAAAAAAAGLQ/SVlt62_K7wM/s1600/Cinque+Terre-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rh8T0keu5qM/Uduhl4sqKLI/AAAAAAAAGLQ/SVlt62_K7wM/s320/Cinque+Terre-8.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm Avalon, and I approve of this breakfast</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-evFCdxPJMXg/UdvLJKjuROI/AAAAAAAAGMs/HDnK88fuIBo/s1600/breakfast+focaccia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-evFCdxPJMXg/UdvLJKjuROI/AAAAAAAAGMs/HDnK88fuIBo/s320/breakfast+focaccia.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">breakfast focaccia</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">dessert focaccia</td></tr>
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<b>Lerici</b>: Our last stop in Liguria, we went to Lerici beach... and kind of regretted not staying there the entire weekend... I think Scott summed it up with, "So this is how the Italian riviera is supposed to be!" Sweet Italian families everywhere building sand castles/ sculpting sand cars with their kids... wrinkled couples walking hand in hand... little old ladies slowly walking/ talking/ gesturing their way down the beach together... paddle boats with slides... a castle in the background... it was bliss.</div>
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<b>Pisa</b>: We rounded out the trip with the obligatory trip to the leaning tower. Solely so Scott could authoritatively tell people that it's a waste of time. Upside: the girls wondering aloud multiple times why that silly tower didn't know how to stand up straight, stereotyping tourists by the pictures they take (Americans push the tower over like a giant, Asians try to martial-art it over with leaping kicks, everybody else apparently just wants a picture of themselves making out in front of it), and commissioning a cheesy spray painting I've wanted for about 11 years.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These things make me inexplicably happy. I want to buy one from every tourist trap we see :-)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby boy makes his first appearance in a family photo</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cqQexxsvLBg/Uduhhn20DxI/AAAAAAAAGLA/ig6mFsbqhQ8/s1600/Cinque+Terre-50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cqQexxsvLBg/Uduhhn20DxI/AAAAAAAAGLA/ig6mFsbqhQ8/s400/Cinque+Terre-50.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Momma, I like that silly-falling-over-tower of Pisa!"</td></tr>
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Thus concludes our weekend. This is where most of you should probably stop reading. For the grandparents out there, I'm going to add in an embarrassing number of pictures of our kids.</div>
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~the break before wading into obnoxious parent territory~~~~~~~~~~~</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Yay, giddyup Princess Luna (what she's calling Uncle Gabe)! Now say NEIGH!!!, Princess Luna!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">surveying the itinerary </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">checking out a crab</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6yBsQUaIFE8/UduhEgVVegI/AAAAAAAAGI4/TSCGWYbU_Ts/s1600/Cinque+Terre-22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6yBsQUaIFE8/UduhEgVVegI/AAAAAAAAGI4/TSCGWYbU_Ts/s400/Cinque+Terre-22.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kylie (to the boy in our group): Oh, no thank you, I don't need help. I am brave and strong.</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-85113647665358824432013-06-26T06:55:00.002-04:002013-08-15T01:35:42.640-04:00...it's a kitten<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Kind of a Kitten</b></div>
Roughly 27 hours after swallowing their disappointment that I was pregnant with a human not a kitten, the girls' dearest wish came true- I came home with a cat. In a twist of fate (or maybe there's a powerful god out there devoted solely to small children's selfish wishes?), our friends are moving and needed someone to take their cat. So once more, our family expanded.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cdrcSFZO_K8/UcqPeuz5JsI/AAAAAAAAFjo/LZIranCF7ic/s1600/Khaleesi+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cdrcSFZO_K8/UcqPeuz5JsI/AAAAAAAAFjo/LZIranCF7ic/s320/Khaleesi+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hey everybody- come see how I good I look!</td></tr>
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Her story: she was another Napoli stray, and our friends found her when she was a kitten. They started feeding, and eventually adopted her. About a week after that happened, they found out she was pregnant. Poor tiny thing was still a baby- as in, still had her milk teeth when her kittens were born. So while she is *technically* a cat, her growth was stunted, and even full grown she looks like an eternal kitten. Her name is Gizmo, but I've started calling her Khaleesi and Kylie calls her Angel. Whatever the name... with girls, a boy, a dog, and a cat, our family is officially done expanding :-)</div>
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It's been a while, so here's an update on <a href="http://www.crawhouse.com/2013/01/new-year-new-things.html">our regularly schedule honest assessments</a>.</div>
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<b>Lives & Living Spaces more Organized</b></div>
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I fell in love with my binder system, but it was having some problems: </div>
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1. It was too big to easily fit into my purse</div>
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2. Due to problem #1 it had no home, so the girls were finding/ 'decorating' it</div>
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3. It was cheap and didn't hold up to its daily use</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zoBIMEFi-7g/UcrGYa6yYjI/AAAAAAAAFlA/rMuIglX1yRw/s1600/PhotoGrid_1372243439886.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="284" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zoBIMEFi-7g/UcrGYa6yYjI/AAAAAAAAFlA/rMuIglX1yRw/s640/PhotoGrid_1372243439886.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Problem #2 exhibits A and B, a very clear example of problem #3 (literally broken in half)</td></tr>
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So my wonderful parents went on a mission to find all of the amazing, not-available-anywhere-in-Italy binder things I dreamed of (thanks!). Opening their care package was like Christmas morning. I wish I was exaggerating. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_iaKu69i5lU/UcmPnX4vH0I/AAAAAAAAFfc/bCiU14ZK8TE/s1600/binder+package.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="521" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_iaKu69i5lU/UcmPnX4vH0I/AAAAAAAAFfc/bCiU14ZK8TE/s640/binder+package.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Martha Stewart, you made your line aqua! I forgive you for everything! (it's good that I'm not a judge)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m__EvffDnVk/UcrE91y7WcI/AAAAAAAAFkw/1Jg0z5VG3P8/s1600/binder+collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="283" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m__EvffDnVk/UcrE91y7WcI/AAAAAAAAFkw/1Jg0z5VG3P8/s640/binder+collage.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colors! Labels! No graffiti! It fits in my purse!</td></tr>
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<b>Healthy Foods & Products</b></div>
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<a href="http://www.shaklee.com/us/en/">Shaklee</a>: I'm totally in love with this company. I've been trying to detox our cleaning supplies for some time but kept running into products that were either ineffective, stinky, expensive, or some combination of the three. I've loved every Shaklee thing I've tried. Of particular note: the glass cleaner is streak-free, the Comet replacement is made of cherry pits and smells like bubble gum, and the detergent actually gets clothes clean. Oh! And the order made it all the way to Italy in 5 working days!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">left side of stool cleaned with Shaklee, right side cleaned with bleach. Plus, a caddy!</td></tr>
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Kid-approved foody successes:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O27sxaDZs6c/UcqMCEb6gEI/AAAAAAAAFi8/oBQj1pk0XYE/s1600/pancakes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O27sxaDZs6c/UcqMCEb6gEI/AAAAAAAAFi8/oBQj1pk0XYE/s1600/pancakes.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.biggest-loser-recipes.com/oatmeal-pancakes.html">protein-filled pancakes</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z6oA87kgIrg/UcqM20FJu9I/AAAAAAAAFjI/1CO7tk3nAms/s1600/eatmore-bars_thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z6oA87kgIrg/UcqM20FJu9I/AAAAAAAAFjI/1CO7tk3nAms/s320/eatmore-bars_thumb.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://chocolatecoveredkatie.com/2013/02/15/healthy-eatmore-fudge-chocolate-bars/">healthified eatmore fudge bars</a> </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bGEDOTq82yc/Ucnp1wRdhwI/AAAAAAAAFh4/DYxgE3ZXQlw/s1600/Triple+Chunk+Chocolate+Muffins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bGEDOTq82yc/Ucnp1wRdhwI/AAAAAAAAFh4/DYxgE3ZXQlw/s320/Triple+Chunk+Chocolate+Muffins.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sixsistersstuff.com/2012/06/low-calorie-triple-chocolate-chunk.html">healthy chocolate muffins</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-apWrtNIgqO4/UcqOMJ9y5II/AAAAAAAAFjY/CjjBxgzyOyQ/s1600/Screen+Shot+2011-11-09+at+15.56.39.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="302" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-apWrtNIgqO4/UcqOMJ9y5II/AAAAAAAAFjY/CjjBxgzyOyQ/s320/Screen+Shot+2011-11-09+at+15.56.39.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">in a surprise move, they also approved of these <a href="http://mamagrubbsgrub.blogspot.it/2011/11/cauliflower-breadsticks.html">cauliflower 'breadsticks'</a></td></tr>
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Grown-up approved:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HUN7hcNfUr4/Ucqu-UV6pLI/AAAAAAAAFj4/CCcrhayvj5Y/s1600/vegenchilada2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HUN7hcNfUr4/Ucqu-UV6pLI/AAAAAAAAFj4/CCcrhayvj5Y/s320/vegenchilada2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.thegardengrazer.com/2012/03/black-bean-spinach-enchiladas.html">spinach & black bean enchiladas </a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_11PCFugtTg/UcqvAG3gdiI/AAAAAAAAFkA/BihL6kB0hwA/s1600/veggiesrone.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_11PCFugtTg/UcqvAG3gdiI/AAAAAAAAFkA/BihL6kB0hwA/s1600/veggiesrone.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">all the vegetables you need for a week... <a href="http://www.eatingwell.com/recipes/veggistrone.html?EWpin1152013veggistrone">veggistrone soup!</a></td></tr>
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<b> Making Family Traditions</b></div>
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I wrote a while back about <a href="http://www.crawhouse.com/2013/02/resolution-update.html">the staggering unemployment currently facing Napoli</a>. We started collecting clothing and toys to give out, but as summer descended in all of its muggy heat, I started noticing an even sadder population- the 'umbrella girls'. Between our house and the girls' preschool alone, there are between 3 and 6 prostitutes daily- about half Nigerian, half eastern European. I have tried to keep water in the car to give to them, but I wanted to do more. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x1JF0MmUQOI/Ucq03ugcdeI/AAAAAAAAFkQ/rXafz9YV8ic/s1600/fuzzies+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x1JF0MmUQOI/Ucq03ugcdeI/AAAAAAAAFkQ/rXafz9YV8ic/s640/fuzzies+1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">this is where two of the Nigerian girls work- one looks about 20, the other no more than 14</td></tr>
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On our way from preschool Friday, I pointed the umbrella girls out to Kylie and Avalon. We talked about slavery- how frustrating it must be to work without getting paid. How it must feel to be out in the hot sun surrounded by trash all day with no shade, bathroom, food, or drink. Obviously I didn't go into the grittier aspects with my 2 and 4 year old, but if you're interested, this is what these women are up against:</div>
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<a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/italian-and-nigerian-gangs-a-deadly-alliance-2361393.html">false promises of good jobs that turn into prostitution</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.thedailybeast.com/witw/articles/2013/04/19/nigerian-girls-trafficked-in-italy-s-sex-slave-trade.html">being forced to continue working the streets even in the late stages of cancer</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.nairaland.com/1201221/pictures-nigerian-roadside-prostitutes-italy">filthy working conditions</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.rawstory.com/rs/2013/06/24/silvio-berlusconi-found-guilty-of-paying-for-sex-with-underage-prostitute/">politicians who take part in the abuse</a></div>
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I'm getting as sick of links as you probably are, so just take my word for this other stuff :-) Many of them had their passports taken away by their pimps/ madams... a lot were sold to traffickers by their parents or husbands to pay off debts (and will be sold again if they return)... one woman we talked to has twin seven year olds back in Africa- who are being held by her madam's family- and she is too afraid to leave because she doesn't want her sons to be injured... the more people I talk to and stories I hear, the more heartbroken I am.</div>
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After our brief discussion on conditions/ slavery, I asked the girls what they would want if they were one of the ladies we were seeing outside the car windows. Avalon said cheez-its, Kylie said Gatorade, both of them said they would want smiles. We bought both of those things, as well as some granola bars and gummy bears, and drove back to hand them out. The women were so kind and gracious and even thanked the girls in English, telling them they were 'very beautiful' or 'like little princesses'. </div>
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<br /></div>
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It was such a good experience for the girls that they wanted to do it again, and a new family traditions was born :-) If anyone has a good name for this, I'd love to hear it. I'm not an ideas man- I think I proved that with 'homeless goody bags' :-) </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
We have upped our efforts and with the help of Scott and our friend Molly, gathered a lot of things we thought other people needed more than we did. Yesterday we took them to a local shelter and did crafts with some of the kids staying there.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tThYgScAY4o/Ucq_KWhjCeI/AAAAAAAAFkg/iuZ5j1CdKv4/s1600/donation+bags.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tThYgScAY4o/Ucq_KWhjCeI/AAAAAAAAFkg/iuZ5j1CdKv4/s320/donation+bags.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">thanks for being so generous, friends and family!</td></tr>
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<div>
Our awesome neighbor Jenn is getting in on it, too, and once a week we are going to load up the cooler and go [whatever-we-end-up-calling-it]ing.</div>
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<b>Blogging</b></div>
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In the past 3 years combined, we had 21 posts. This year we already have 14, so it looks like we're successfully shoving our lives into the faces of the internet :-)</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-61710525534111337262013-06-17T09:38:00.000-04:002013-08-13T00:37:30.466-04:00It's a...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22px;">(last appointment)</span></div>
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Dr : So, you can head down to radiology.</div>
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Me: Yay!</div>
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Radiology: Our ultrasound tech isn't in today</div>
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Me: That's fine, can I make an appointment for Friday?</div>
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Radiology: She's on vacation. You can make an appointment for a month from now.</div>
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Me: (sad face)</div>
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So one month and many now-too-small clothes later, here we (fetus and I) are.</div>
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<tr><td><a auto="" b5394="" color:="" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4EF_OoOf7Kg/Ub8Dt3yzmZI/AAAAAAAAFXU/Xd2h0a-5g0s/s1600/5+month+belly.jpg" imageanchor="1" margin-left:="" margin-right:="" none="" text-decoration:=""><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4EF_OoOf7Kg/Ub8Dt3yzmZI/AAAAAAAAFXU/Xd2h0a-5g0s/s320/5+month+belly.jpg" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">belly: 5 months, inept photographers: ages 2 and 4 years :-)</td></tr>
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Ultrasound revealed what I'd known to be true for quite some time- baby is in breach position, and joyously kicking the daylights out of my bladder. After establishing the basics (functioning heart/ intact spine/ etc) we moved on to the question of the day (or in our case, year)- bambino or bambina?</div>
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Baby 3 was very compliant, and within about 20 seconds of looking, flashed what seemed very much to be man-parts. After a tiny shift, it became very apparent:</div>
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<a 1em="" b5394="" color:="" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zUvq8NQeSyw/Ub8JBsLMvbI/AAAAAAAAFYI/aVvBRCdTT-k/s1600/those+are+balls.png" imageanchor="1" margin-left:="" margin-right:="" none="" text-decoration:=""><img border="0" height="356" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zUvq8NQeSyw/Ub8JBsLMvbI/AAAAAAAAFYI/aVvBRCdTT-k/s640/those+are+balls.png" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="640" /></a></div>
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Thrilled, Scott and I went to buy (finally- I've been wanting to do this for years!) some tiny man apparel. Oh baby boy, I love you so much already... And your big sisters are fighting over whose prince you will be :-)
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<tr><td><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OTEeSUqcuOM/Ub8KKZsxQlI/AAAAAAAAFYY/jfFq3gaSGRs/s1600/boy+stuff.jpg" imageanchor="1" color: #0b5394; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OTEeSUqcuOM/Ub8KKZsxQlI/AAAAAAAAFYY/jfFq3gaSGRs/s400/boy+stuff.jpg" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">next stop: Osh Kosh B'gosh online</td></tr>
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So there you have it, internet world. Man-child Crawford will be showing his handsome little face sometime around the 22nd of October, and we can hardly wait </div>
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<tr><td><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dx0ISXDnjyQ/Ub8MBxAkeHI/AAAAAAAAFY8/B29t0fJ0bfc/s1600/boy+booty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #0b5394; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dx0ISXDnjyQ/Ub8MBxAkeHI/AAAAAAAAFY8/B29t0fJ0bfc/s400/boy+booty.jpg" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">fun bonus: boy outfits have booty designs, too!</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-60262330737191353492013-05-01T05:43:00.000-04:002013-05-01T05:43:32.177-04:00NanaI could (and did) fill up pages with how amazing my Nana was. They were all somehow both too much and not enough. She was a treasure to me as a kid, and a role model to me as an adult. Always both incredibly strong, and completely feminine. <br />
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The love she had for the world is unrivaled by anyone I've ever known. For neighbor kids who needed a bath and a warm meal... for lonely tenants who needed who needed reminding that they were good and important and loved... for orphans on TV... for employees who were struggling with illness or finances...<br />
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Most especially, love for her family. More love than I can ever properly describe, but it's all over my face.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LkX7sP7603k/UVqhrG4OE-I/AAAAAAAAEfc/7kTjHtmVJtk/s1600/1112_ChristmasEve_018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LkX7sP7603k/UVqhrG4OE-I/AAAAAAAAEfc/7kTjHtmVJtk/s400/1112_ChristmasEve_018.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No safer or happier place in the world</td></tr>
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<br />
I haven't posted anything since flying home for her last few days. It's hard to reconcile the peace and joy she brought with the exquisite pain of losing her. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KFv7kpC6hbo/UYDZPG8_UGI/AAAAAAAAEqE/aTi2nX45mRk/s1600/1112_DinnerAtLindas_049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KFv7kpC6hbo/UYDZPG8_UGI/AAAAAAAAEqE/aTi2nX45mRk/s320/1112_DinnerAtLindas_049.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my heart shattering: a visual</td></tr>
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Back in Italy, the week after Nana's funeral, I was given a lovely gift. Scott and I got our first glimpse of someone we've been looking forward to seeing for some time now.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h9ZlitBMQPk/UYDcs_KcfII/AAAAAAAAEqs/Pgd2Eb7UjBk/s1600/Little+Babys+First+Picture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="308" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h9ZlitBMQPk/UYDcs_KcfII/AAAAAAAAEqs/Pgd2Eb7UjBk/s400/Little+Babys+First+Picture.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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This tiny little person will never sit in Nana's living room while she plays the accordion, or know the happiness of hearing Nana's car go "beepbeepbeepbeepbeep, beep beep" in the driveway announcing her arrival, or smile every time someone walks by wearing Eternity for women...<br />
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Baby 3 was in Nana's house, though. And was with me on the couch when I was unable to sleep, on the bed while I held Nana's hand and told her stories of her life and influence , and there in the end when I said my final goodbye. <br />
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My mom visited my Nana the day before she slipped into her coma, and announced my pregnancy. So even though they'll never meet, Nana knew of and loved this little baby.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nABoNZnRFKw/UYDhWnHlGrI/AAAAAAAAEq8/r7j-cy72dp8/s1600/Nana+Kylie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nABoNZnRFKw/UYDhWnHlGrI/AAAAAAAAEq8/r7j-cy72dp8/s640/Nana+Kylie.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">meeting Kylie</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FpHOlKpNyQQ/UVqhc5SQ6UI/AAAAAAAAEfE/q9nPedo51as/s1600/IMG_1411.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FpHOlKpNyQQ/UVqhc5SQ6UI/AAAAAAAAEfE/q9nPedo51as/s640/IMG_1411.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">meeting Avalon</td></tr>
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Oh Nana, you wonderful beautiful gem of a person, I'll miss you.<br />
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a love story ever so much better than The Notebook</div>
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my amazing Nana, as remembered by my amazing Dad</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-72478035113168422402013-03-17T22:06:00.000-04:002013-03-17T22:10:21.730-04:00Monkey Planet<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9Xe46jIQ1T4/UUYY9BJglpI/AAAAAAABDN4/d_3Z47onjMI/s1600/IMG_20130317_132915.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9Xe46jIQ1T4/UUYY9BJglpI/AAAAAAABDN4/d_3Z47onjMI/s320/IMG_20130317_132915.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The monkeys were indeed THAT way.</td></tr>
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Took a trip to the magical Monkey Planet (<a href="http://www.teverolamonkeyplanet.it/dove_siamo.html">http://www.teverolamonkeyplanet.it/dove_siamo.html</a>), and the girls had a wonderful time (imagine Chuck E. Cheese's, but with a little Italian flair and no safety codes thrown in). The only sad part was when we had to leave, because daddy was all out of coins. <br />
<br />
Followed up this with the girl's first experience with a McDonald's Happy Meal. Ava had some chicken mcnuggets that tasted like they had been fried in movie theatre butter, and kylie had a Mc Grilled Cheese sandwich that she couldn't figure out whether she liked the mysterious circle prosciutto in it or not. <br />
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All in all, I don't think they've been missing out too much on Mickey D's. Their favorite part was the toy at the end, and the terrifyingly steep slide at the Play Place. Parenting Accomplished.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F6XSsL4wM9g/UUYY9NUce1I/AAAAAAABDL4/Ja9S7UHThas/s1600/IMG_20130317_121911.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F6XSsL4wM9g/UUYY9NUce1I/AAAAAAABDL4/Ja9S7UHThas/s640/IMG_20130317_121911.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What are they looking at?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m8dIa4rDsho/UUYY9Ij7XyI/AAAAAAABDL8/jzI1fangwzk/s1600/IMG_20130317_121953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m8dIa4rDsho/UUYY9Ij7XyI/AAAAAAABDL8/jzI1fangwzk/s640/IMG_20130317_121953.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look, Daddy, I'm FANCY.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vZbasg29HOk/UUYY9KpfgtI/AAAAAAABDMQ/b9i3H3_6FCg/s1600/IMG_20130317_125349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vZbasg29HOk/UUYY9KpfgtI/AAAAAAABDMQ/b9i3H3_6FCg/s640/IMG_20130317_125349.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She would stay here all year if I let her</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u3EQy4xPPmE/UUYY9NQONcI/AAAAAAABDMU/N8hWS0gkrXc/s1600/IMG_20130317_125844.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u3EQy4xPPmE/UUYY9NQONcI/AAAAAAABDMU/N8hWS0gkrXc/s640/IMG_20130317_125844.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She looks so graceful.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vHxOzagjz7s/UUYY9JhS3kI/AAAAAAABDNI/7bwhjjt--Lk/s1600/IMG_20130317_130434.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vHxOzagjz7s/UUYY9JhS3kI/AAAAAAABDNI/7bwhjjt--Lk/s640/IMG_20130317_130434.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This mildly amuses me.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dCnsdYqutB8/UUYY9ITicoI/AAAAAAABDNQ/IB-gnKP4PrY/s1600/IMG_20130317_130441.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dCnsdYqutB8/UUYY9ITicoI/AAAAAAABDNQ/IB-gnKP4PrY/s640/IMG_20130317_130441.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whoaaah, girl!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IsribiHN_AQ/UUYY9M20cvI/AAAAAAABDPE/kGx4p9JBsK4/s1600/IMG_20130317_133009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IsribiHN_AQ/UUYY9M20cvI/AAAAAAABDPE/kGx4p9JBsK4/s640/IMG_20130317_133009.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Obligatory shot for Loretta</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GYpvVlAvf4A/UUYY9FnyviI/AAAAAAABDN8/H1e7rfk65jE/s1600/IMG_20130317_132930.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GYpvVlAvf4A/UUYY9FnyviI/AAAAAAABDN8/H1e7rfk65jE/s640/IMG_20130317_132930.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Silly Belly Button.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g3q98c_GzUI/UUYY9EPcuPI/AAAAAAABDOU/0r1f59RS5GM/s1600/IMG_20130317_134412.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g3q98c_GzUI/UUYY9EPcuPI/AAAAAAABDOU/0r1f59RS5GM/s640/IMG_20130317_134412.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Got a Lil Captain in her.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_j3OBou0q0I/UUYY9J3qmNI/AAAAAAABDPI/j06SN0ZFstY/s1600/IMG_20130317_141105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_j3OBou0q0I/UUYY9J3qmNI/AAAAAAABDPI/j06SN0ZFstY/s640/IMG_20130317_141105.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Master of Her Domain.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small;">P.S. Bonus Videos!</span></blockquote>
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Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16281038926509556099noreply@blogger.com2Teverola, Province of Caserta, Italy41.0085381 14.21343469999999340.9606116 14.132753699999993 41.056464600000005 14.294115699999994tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-599018700332337642013-03-15T16:20:00.002-04:002013-03-15T16:25:01.499-04:00Happy Birthday.... Cake.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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To celebrate Lindsey's birthday this year, the girls and I made a cake.... These are the tragic, tragic results:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JSgyg0VI34M/UUOBPPpdffI/AAAAAAABCt8/fwj8Lzjoorw/s1600/_MG_9529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JSgyg0VI34M/UUOBPPpdffI/AAAAAAABCt8/fwj8Lzjoorw/s400/_MG_9529.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Starts out so cute and friendly...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-whfz72Wra2k/UUOBPrGjy3I/AAAAAAABCuI/tThLO1wFLGk/s1600/_MG_9530.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-whfz72Wra2k/UUOBPrGjy3I/AAAAAAABCuI/tThLO1wFLGk/s400/_MG_9530.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kylie sneaking some frosting.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ava takes her turn on the stirring...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still going well...</td></tr>
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Suddenly-- Cake ends up slightly burned due to mis-reading the Celsius temperature... so I cut around the bad parts-- tried to turn it into an octagon, but there ended up not being enough smeared frosting mixed with warm soft cake parts to cover the whole thing... so after a quick trip through the freezer, we turned it back into a rectangular abomination of a cakewreck. And the girls dumped a pile of sprinkles on it :)<br />
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Happy Birthday, sweetheart, come home soon!</div>
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-- Scott</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ran out of frosting.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Truer words have never been spoken.</td></tr>
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Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16281038926509556099noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-34774664480079880192013-03-13T15:21:00.000-04:002013-03-13T15:21:22.222-04:00Well That One Was a Freebie.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://www.deseretnews.com/images/article/contentimage/1096552/1096552.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://www.deseretnews.com/images/article/contentimage/1096552/1096552.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
One example of the myriad of upsides to being here overseas. Tonight, we had an impromptu dinner at the landlords' house and while enjoying some delicious spinach/pasta/mushroom foodstuff, the t.v. popped up with an image much like this... Il Nuovo Papa, which in Italian roughly translates to "Fourth Quarter Of The Super Bowl". Not sure I've ever seen them this excited... :). <br />
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Of course, they're really rooting for an Italian Pope :)<br />
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-- Scott</div>
Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16281038926509556099noreply@blogger.com0San Marcellino Province of Caserta, Italy40.9855017 14.17552150000005940.9615302 14.13518100000006 41.0094732 14.215862000000058tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-47583910810556402512013-03-11T15:58:00.000-04:002013-03-11T15:58:42.637-04:00Daddy Day Care<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a class="g-profile" href="http://plus.google.com/114210087360021962293" target="_blank">+Lindsey</a> had to fly back to the States for a few days, which means the girls & I have to fend for ourselves... So we dropped Linds off at the airport in Rome, and after being inconsolable for approximately 7 seconds, the girls decided that some juice might just be the cure...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-07GDzNPmm-0/UTxi-4umIcI/AAAAAAABCKk/y2XZdm2bX7E/s1600/13+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-07GDzNPmm-0/UTxi-4umIcI/AAAAAAABCKk/y2XZdm2bX7E/s640/13+-+1" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ring around the gas station Rosey</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Next, Kylie requested an adventure with forests and mountains and a place to play. Luckily, I knew just the spot that was also on our way home: Gaeta.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BrxBZ9zzWVs/UT4xxel9zbI/AAAAAAABCnA/EkeyI_k5Xz4/s1600/20130310_135902.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BrxBZ9zzWVs/UT4xxel9zbI/AAAAAAABCnA/EkeyI_k5Xz4/s640/20130310_135902.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing The Mountain.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ccnqdvFlHlU/UT4xxVRPktI/AAAAAAABCnA/qtrlRqqGFv8/s1600/20130310_135913.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ccnqdvFlHlU/UT4xxVRPktI/AAAAAAABCnA/qtrlRqqGFv8/s640/20130310_135913.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who me? I's just esploring the forest, daddy...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The park there also has a great circuit of exercise stations which the girls used to full effect...<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ffEp7ilOxjc/UT4xxZLxVVI/AAAAAAABCnA/qDCvVw7B7QA/s1600/20130310_141046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ffEp7ilOxjc/UT4xxZLxVVI/AAAAAAABCnA/qDCvVw7B7QA/s640/20130310_141046.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">She was making fabulous monkey noises at this point... </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--XusyhS8wAg/UT4xxazAwwI/AAAAAAABCnA/7nDgm49QALc/s1600/20130310_140854.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--XusyhS8wAg/UT4xxazAwwI/AAAAAAABCnA/7nDgm49QALc/s640/20130310_140854.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Easy Day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oy2Nnaz_EfM/UT4xxYk89WI/AAAAAAABCnA/VRPkdpV9JZY/s1600/20130310_140903.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oy2Nnaz_EfM/UT4xxYk89WI/AAAAAAABCnA/VRPkdpV9JZY/s640/20130310_140903.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So proud of herself.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hs5_UfEuhQI/UT4xxdd8wtI/AAAAAAABCnA/Zn8UtKJqQNA/s1600/20130310_140716.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hs5_UfEuhQI/UT4xxdd8wtI/AAAAAAABCnA/Zn8UtKJqQNA/s640/20130310_140716.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Kylie being a good big sister and helping her baby puppy sister up to the top of the slide :) </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-La30fxBrITs/UT4xxQ3cYoI/AAAAAAABCnA/ymkRSNZ5yp8/s1600/20130310_152231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-La30fxBrITs/UT4xxQ3cYoI/AAAAAAABCnA/ymkRSNZ5yp8/s640/20130310_152231.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Planting some flowers.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Not pictured: Kylie discovering the joys of relieving herself in the woods, the girls eating gelatto in the rain and begging me to take them onto the yellow boat parked in the harbor.<br />
<br />
<br />
That's not to say there weren't a few rough parts-- Ava started to run up to a random Italian lady who was walking her dog and called "momma, momma, its my momma!" and the girls stumbling upon a young, amorous couple who I'm sure were just searching for a little more privacy than two screaming kids chasing pigeons (they quickly headed back to their car and left without a word). But all in all, I think they're coping well with having their momma a continent away. :)<br />
<br />
-- Scott</div>
Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16281038926509556099noreply@blogger.com3Gaeta Province of Latina, Italy41.206636585105592 13.57517301972654941.194692085105594 13.555003019726549 41.21858108510559 13.595343019726549tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-19080842383655474452013-03-04T14:18:00.004-05:002013-03-09T09:05:44.607-05:00I'll see your date-rapey, and raise you statutory-rapey<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Back at Christmastime, we had a nice discourse on <u>Baby it's Cold Outside.</u> Is it a relic of a simpler/ more terrifying time? A playful date that just sounds weird when Zooey Deschanel sings about it? <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.tvfanatic.com/videos/glee-does-baby-its-cold-outside/">The video cleared it up for me</a></div>
<br />
"Oh", you think upon seeing the video, "this isn't date rapey, this is just a sweet saucy little couple!" Or maybe you think, "Lindsey, we know you <3 equality, stop pushing your gay agenda on us!" Either way, I think we can all agree it seems consensual at the very least :-)<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
After a thorough (disturbing) listening to <u>Young Girl</u>, I was hoping for a similar video revelation. Maybe it's not so bad, I told myself. Maybe he means she's young at heart...or maybe immature... or maybe some other thing so I won't feel guilty listening to this song that I totally love?</div>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/hn0ZJHVH17I?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
(tip: don't type 'young girl video' into your search engine) </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
No real answers, just ever so many more questions. Such as:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>What facial expression is he going for? Seductive? Remorseful? </li>
<ul>
<li>Does he realize it's neither of those things?</li>
</ul>
<li>WHY IS THAT BABY DOLL COMING AT ME?!?</li>
<li>Where did the band find a barber who specialized in sexual predator facial hair?</li>
<li>NOW THERE ARE BEARS, TOO?!? </li>
<li>Why have I not turned this video off yet?</li>
<li>Am I going to continue loving this song despite all evidence?</li>
<ul>
<li>Almost certainly (sigh)</li>
</ul>
</ul>
<br />
And now, lastly but certainly not least-ly, a mash-up! A mash up of songs... of themes from this post... of Mr. Shuester's amazing talent/ abysmal judgement.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://vimeo.com/45539313">I know, I'll compose a number/ do a private performance for a dramatic, underage student! This definitely won't go horribly wrong.</a><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-77729109059273235502013-02-09T03:33:00.002-05:002013-02-10T18:53:29.391-05:00Resolution Update<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>Making Our Lives & Living Spaces More Organized</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MMfPqGoqb0s/URU8W5GYgqI/AAAAAAAAD6c/ZcjzGzoAxIg/s1600/2-2-2013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MMfPqGoqb0s/URU8W5GYgqI/AAAAAAAAD6c/ZcjzGzoAxIg/s640/2-2-2013.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at me, unwrapping my Christmas presents by early February...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This week's project was supposed to be the garage, but between the constant thunder storms and my insatiable desire to use my new label maker, the pantry got shifted to the top. My love for all things OXO continues, with <a href="http://www.amazon.com/OXO-Square-4-Quart-Storage-Container/dp/B000UHYB9E/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1360346938&sr=8-1&keywords=oxo+pop">these</a> at the top of my list.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-am0IYqRq8hI/URTtF_trGRI/AAAAAAAAD6I/VzCd09welNw/s1600/_MG_9379.CR2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-am0IYqRq8hI/URTtF_trGRI/AAAAAAAAD6I/VzCd09welNw/s640/_MG_9379.CR2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In real life they are easier to read and don't have weird depth perception, but va bene</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Oh, OXO pop how I love you. The airtight seal... the seeing-how-much-of-an-ingredient I have on hand... the childlike delight of popping and un-popping those silly lids... Every time I open the pantry doors now, I smile. Which with two little kids means I'm smiling approximately 40 times a day :-)<br />
<br />
Those little kids... They are getting less little by the day. No more quiet naps, no more snuggling contentedly up next to me like sleepy kittens while I work on a project. More running, more climbing, more fighting over which one gets to be the princess this afternoon and who has to take the hit and be the prince at the ball :-)<br />
<br />
In a tri-pronged effort to create some quiet time, clear clutter from the playroom, and <strike>use my label maker some more!</strike> continue on my resolutions, I decided to make some 'quiet time' bins. <br />
For the three other moms I know who might be interested, here are the steps:<br />
<ol>
<li>Gather up some under-appreciated toys</li>
<li>Find some durable board books</li>
<li>Put in labeled bins, 1 hour of quiet time each afternoon :-)</li>
</ol>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K_E9stx1tFg/URTqsfTmxFI/AAAAAAAAD50/MOxJ1I-yaFQ/s1600/1-17-2013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K_E9stx1tFg/URTqsfTmxFI/AAAAAAAAD50/MOxJ1I-yaFQ/s640/1-17-2013.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Making Healthy Foods & Products</b><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bsgyviDNU7c/URVDNB23XfI/AAAAAAAAD6s/YC0iuFBpsJ8/s1600/_MG_9411.CR2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bsgyviDNU7c/URVDNB23XfI/AAAAAAAAD6s/YC0iuFBpsJ8/s320/_MG_9411.CR2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b>
For those who haven't heard, we have a new member of the family! This is the tale of sweet Stella.<br />
<br />
She was born on the streets of Napoli, but a family took her in. They then abused her and she was rescued by another family. A family who abandoned her. From there she bounced from foster home to foster home, and was on the verge of being out on the streets again when we began fostering her. <br />
<br />
Our landlords and Scott had a "no dog" policy, but said it was okay as long as it was only temporary. The longer she stayed with us though, the more in love we were. She patiently let Avalon crawl all over her... didn't growl when Kylie insisted 'sweet Stella needs to be beautiful!' and adorned her with mardi gras necklaces... even curled up with the girls at night and listened to bedtime stories with them.<br />
<br />
Finally all of my overtly obvious loving gazes and "she sure is a great dog... some family is going to be sooo happy"s paid off, and Scott asked Enzo if we could keep Stella. Kind of like asking my dad for my hand in marriage, only slightly sweeter because Enzo didn't respond with, "at least you're not Joe"...<br />
<br />
Thus it was that Stella became ours, and as a legitimate family member, deserved some healthy food.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A7Rhh1OB_s4/URVCBgAE5oI/AAAAAAAAD6k/mvbC9wQDPmU/s1600/IMG_9332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A7Rhh1OB_s4/URVCBgAE5oI/AAAAAAAAD6k/mvbC9wQDPmU/s320/IMG_9332.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Homemade dog food- carrots, rice, ground turkey, flax seed, and home grown rosemary</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>Making Our Own Traditions as a Family</b><br />
Taco Tuesdays have been upgraded. Thanks to the wonder that is <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Chicago-Metallic-Non-Stick-Large-Tortilla/dp/B00004R90Y/ref=sr_1_2?s=home-garden&ie=UTF8&qid=1360396153&sr=1-2&keywords=taco+salad+shell+maker">Amazon</a>, we now have fresh taco salad bowls once a week. We even upped the ante by using Lumpia wrappers, making a thin (but crisp, delicious, and workable) 20 calorie taco salad shell. *at this point I'm imagining you are gasping with wonder and awe and figuring out how soon you can come visit to try this delicacy*<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wGHg7z1nwPc/URYCtgAOcdI/AAAAAAAAD7I/9ezAT8zDnHc/s1600/_MG_9336.CR2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wGHg7z1nwPc/URYCtgAOcdI/AAAAAAAAD7I/9ezAT8zDnHc/s320/_MG_9336.CR2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Original</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lVLKzaCx0Ok/URYC0NsuRjI/AAAAAAAAD7Q/Q7Uz6YkSH6E/s1600/_MG_9337.CR2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lVLKzaCx0Ok/URYC0NsuRjI/AAAAAAAAD7Q/Q7Uz6YkSH6E/s320/_MG_9337.CR2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The high fiber (a yucky failure)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HAv-UwvJM2s/URYC2DxrGNI/AAAAAAAAD7Y/N7R5iv8oFnI/s1600/_MG_9338.CR2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HAv-UwvJM2s/URYC2DxrGNI/AAAAAAAAD7Y/N7R5iv8oFnI/s320/_MG_9338.CR2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The guilt-free Lumpia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
We finally started a non-food tradition! I could have sworn I took pictures... but my 'pictures' folder swears otherwise. At any rate, we started the tradition of 'homeless goody bags'. A terrible, possibly offensive name? Probably. The sentiment is good, though. While I was getting bags and bags of items ready to donate to the thrift shop on base, it occurred to me that everyone on base had employment & health care, while the unemployment rate in Napoli "<a href="http://www.naplesallhands.com/docs/Welcome-to-Italy-and-Naples.pdf">hovers around 30 percent</a>".<br />
<br />
With this in mind, the girls and I sorted all of our donations into categories of men/ women/ children. We divided those into as equal distributions as we could across many brown paper bags, then tied them with ribbons (red for ladies, green for men, white for kids). I now keep them in the car with me, so that whenever we come across beggars at stoplights, we have something ready to hand them. Next round I'd like to include some water & non-perishables, too- it's a work in progress.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Blogging Even When We Haven't Gone Anywhere</b><br />
Yet another blog without a single exciting adventure :-)<br />
<br />
Hope you're well and that all the people in the Northeast who are so dear to us are staying safe despite the crazy blizzard. (here's a tip if you aren't already snowed in: marshmallow vodka & hot chocolate make great friends)</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-33009439708678651482013-01-29T09:26:00.003-05:002013-02-11T10:15:55.876-05:00"The Help" lied to me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/Vl_o0psoAg4/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Vl_o0psoAg4&fs=1&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Vl_o0psoAg4&fs=1&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
<br />
Obviously this scene was memorable to me. The minute that clueless blonde lady stuck her finger into a frying pan full of boiling grease because "it looks like frosting!" I fell in love with her. Hence, when our stupid toilet seat hinge started squeaking, this was the first thing that popped into my mind.<br />
<br />
Well, that's a lie. WD40 was the first thing, but this scene was a quick second. Were there warning signs? Sure. I never use mayonnaise... Crisco as a makeup supplement is just an awful, awful idea... and there are fewer things to bring on a heart attack faster than deep frying in Crisco. I probably should have assumed the squeaky hinge thing was just as ill-advised.<br />
<br />
I didn't. <br />
<br />
'Wouldn't it be nice to fix this with something non-toxic', I told myself. 'And to take a wise, sassy character's advice! Besides, what am I going to do, walk all the way across the driveway to the garage? No thank you!'<br />
<br />
Which is why our toilet seat still squeaks every time it's lifted and lowered... and why it's now covered in globs of glistening, greasy, butter-scented Crisco.<br />
<br />
UPDATE:<br /><br />
It took 2 or 3 days, but it worked. My apologies to Minny Jackson. You see how contrite I am? I took 13 seconds to go to IMDB and look up the character's name :)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-12255947785993687752013-01-28T17:30:00.001-05:002013-02-10T18:56:09.416-05:00The Fellowship Of The Skis<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GcuFLn1MHTo/UP3m99hkDLI/AAAAAAAA7k0/CZOFpHt03Zc/s1600/20130121_135721.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="171" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GcuFLn1MHTo/UP3m99hkDLI/AAAAAAAA7k0/CZOFpHt03Zc/s640/20130121_135721.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Since <a class="g-profile" href="http://plus.google.com/114210087360021962293" target="_blank">Lindsey</a> already took care of the heavy-lifting by posting a nice <a href="http://blog.crawhouse.com/2013/01/the-robe-commune.html" target="_blank">Ski Trip to Austria</a> blog entry, I suppose I can just say thanks to the awesome person (or persons) who discovered and turned in my cell phone after it stupidly hurled itself from my body somewhere around here:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fbbHNUdtYC8/UQburE32UcI/AAAAAAAA-pE/UgmrA8T3HJI/s1600/StAntonMap.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="319" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fbbHNUdtYC8/UQburE32UcI/AAAAAAAA-pE/UgmrA8T3HJI/s400/StAntonMap.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Makes the 45 minutes I spent trudging up the mountain searching for my phone Hansel-style totally worth it!</td></tr>
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Contrary to popular belief, the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alps" target="_blank">Alps </a>are actually an expansive European mountain range filled with miles and miles of idiotic American tourists trying to commit <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seppuku" target="_blank">Snowboard Seppuku</a>. The bumps and bruises were all worth it though, when I got to see places like this:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xcOPjdeQFUw/UP34oXMkt9I/AAAAAAAA7jU/umSKnT7Xefs/s1600/P1030392.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xcOPjdeQFUw/UP34oXMkt9I/AAAAAAAA7jU/umSKnT7Xefs/s400/P1030392.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The town of St. Christoph tucked into the Austrian mountainside</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Serenity.</td></tr>
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It wasn't only about the skiing though-- this weekend had a bit of something for everyone:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kylie managing to make the best of an awesome situation.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Avalon vying to become Queen Of The Mountain.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K1Qq_2WlMQ4/UP3m92ysarI/AAAAAAAA7kI/YLiwAE41QGQ/s1600/20130120_092121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K1Qq_2WlMQ4/UP3m92ysarI/AAAAAAAA7kI/YLiwAE41QGQ/s400/20130120_092121.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New best friends (The most meaningful <a class="g-profile" href="http://plus.google.com/106130783212064772612" target="_blank">Google+</a> kind)</td></tr>
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Not pictured:<br />
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<li>Crazy Hot Tub Time Machine-esque <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apr%C3%A8s-ski" target="_blank">Apres-Ski </a>Parties complete with live music versions of classic rock anthems (Queen, AC/DC, Bonjovi), singers walking on tables, creepy European guys ogling us, and the fine tradition of singers just making up their own lyrics when the actual English words seem too confusing.</li>
<li>~5 hours worth of a reading of <a href="http://www.audible.com/pd/ref=sr_1_1?asin=B0099RKI5W&qid=1359413424&sr=1-1" target="_blank">The Hobbit</a> (with plenty of chalkboard-scratchingly annoying Gollum-voice) and a special on the <a href="http://www.dancarlin.com/disp.php?page=hharchive" target="_blank">Great Mongol Jaynghis Khan</a> which apparently kept everyone in the Party Van from getting any sleep.</li>
<li>The kids running all throughout the house chasing each other and planning impromptu wedding parties, and fighting over who gets to sleep in the top bunk (aka: the alluring "Red Bed").</li>
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Thus concludes one of those posts that veers away from our normal day-to-day minutia and instead makes you feel a little bit bad about not living up to the awesome standards set by our online personas :-). <br />
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P.S. If you ever find yourself in St. Anton Am Arlberg, Austria, don't pass up an opportunity to check out <a href="http://www.ferienhaus-alpinum.at/" target="_blank">this awesome place</a>.</div>
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Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16281038926509556099noreply@blogger.com1Sankt Anton am Arlberg, Austria47.1296346 10.26817860000005646.9566061 9.9454551000000553 47.302663100000004 10.590902100000056tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992107062727233975.post-82087832885467945052013-01-26T15:08:00.001-05:002013-02-10T18:56:09.425-05:00The Robe CommuneLounging on the plush couch, glass of excellent wine in hand, watching the girls run around with Miles & Elliot (1 and 3), it occurred to me. "Guys, we should form a commune!!!"<br />
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A commune in the Alps. With a downstairs spa... and maid service... and a personal shopper... and midnight sledding followed by spiked hot chocolate... with ridiculous games of charades... and two dozen eggs getting scrambled every morning. <br />
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Days spent playing/ snowboarding/ skiing outside in air fresher than a York peppermint patty, and nights under a sky so clear the stars put our (we as collective bedazzled ladies in the group) diamonds to shame.<br />
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"Jackson! Laura! Look how classy you guys look in these robes that come with the rooms! These are so comfortable I could live in them... <b><i>These should be the official outfit of the commune!!!</i></b>"<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I want to go (back) to there (the first floor of our house).</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How happy were we? Laura happy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still can't believe this is real... and that we didn't get more pictures.</td></tr>
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Between my stupid back (has spasms again, possibly a slipped disc) and my stupid sprained ankle, I did not go snowboarding. Or even leave <a href="http://www.chaletfinder.co.uk/goproperty.htm?pid=30561">the house</a>. Still one of the best vacations of my life. Desperately wish I had a picture of all of us in our robes, wine goblets in hand. Hugh Hefner really is onto something.<br />
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As I learned how to get by on crutches (it turns out the key is other, able bodied people being awesome and helping), the girls did something far more interesting and started gymnastic lessons. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charging to the trampoline</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...charge did not lead to as big a jump as we might have hoped</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">her AMAZING coach</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wedge is supposed to make forward rolls easier... she opted for rolling up it</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Her favorite part of class~ intimidating moms with her knowledge of marine life. "Oh, sorry, that's not a whale, it's a <i>humpback</i> whale... with her whale shark friend."</td></tr>
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Now that I've discovered how to use Windows 8 (and by 'discovered' I obviously mean 'Scott made a pictures shortcut so easy a Lindsey can do it), these posts are getting long awfully fast. Will hold off on resolution update pictures until next time :-)<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11694522834338855609noreply@blogger.com1