<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391</id><updated>2011-07-21T02:00:44.942-05:00</updated><category term='Zoo'/><category term='Mother'/><category term='Complaint Dept'/><category term='Authors'/><category term='Aging'/><category term='Navy wave'/><category term='Bits n&apos; Pieces'/><category term='Diet'/><category term='Gardening'/><category term='Soap Box'/><category term='Bad Commercials'/><category term='Birds'/><title type='text'>Notes by NeeNee</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/neen99.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My notes on everything from A to Z.  Take exception if you will, I'd love to hear your opinion.  But in the final analysis, the only opinion that counts is of the person who can delete yours!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>103</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-7741893098334587367</id><published>2008-07-17T07:47:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T07:47:49.615-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Navy wave'/><title type='text'>A visit to the WALL</title><content type='html'>I walk along the path and see the bronze statute for Three Servicemen&lt;br /&gt;with the American flag that flies 24 hours a day. I am struck by the&lt;br /&gt;sadness of this place. The day is sunny but the air is so still,&lt;br /&gt;like the world is holding its' breath. They are the guardians -&lt;br /&gt;watching over their brethern in death, as in life. A salute to these&lt;br /&gt;brave souls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I start the walk down into a somber place, black granite panels lists&lt;br /&gt;the names of the soldiers, sailors, marines who gave their lives.&lt;br /&gt;Down I slowly walk, the impact of all these lives washing over me. I&lt;br /&gt;start to cry. I cry for myself, I cry for mothers and fathers,&lt;br /&gt;sisters and brothers, lovers and friends. Such a tremendous loss to&lt;br /&gt;them and to the world. Who knows what difference their lives could&lt;br /&gt;have made?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look for names of those I knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John Robert Bragg&lt;br /&gt;Michael William Downing&lt;br /&gt;John Lee Croy&lt;br /&gt;Gregory Scott Fennimore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember Michael, John and Gregory only as passing memories but I&lt;br /&gt;grew up with Johnny Bob - a gentle, kind soul in a mohawk. Here's a&lt;br /&gt;flower, Johnny Bob, brought just for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More memories take me back to the Pensacola Naval Air Station where I&lt;br /&gt;worked in Personnel in 1967. Name after name coming across the desk&lt;br /&gt;with assignments, Vietnam, Vietnam, Vietnam. Then a lucky one,&lt;br /&gt;Cuba.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the center of the memorial surrounded by all these names and walls&lt;br /&gt;the color of death - I wonder if the world will ever know peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest in peace, brave soldier. You have not been forgotten.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-7741893098334587367?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/7741893098334587367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=7741893098334587367&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/7741893098334587367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/7741893098334587367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2008/07/visit-to-wall.html' title='A visit to the WALL'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-3977355526642689181</id><published>2008-07-04T06:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T07:02:14.104-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Soap Box'/><title type='text'>Red</title><content type='html'>I recently took one of those surveys that friends send around - the getting to know you kind.  The survey asks innocous questions like what kind of cereal do you like, scary movies vs happy endings, etc.  The most interesting question was:  "If you were a crayon, what color would you be?"  The majority of the people that responded said they would be red.  That's it, red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought it interesting that the word "red" was used.  Now the word "red" is supposed to conjure up a range of seemingly conflicting emotions from passionate love to violence and warfare.  It is supposed to draw attention to an item, hence the "red" carpet at movie premieres, or even the lowly stop sign. Studies show that red can have a physical effect, increasing the rate of respiration and raising blood pressure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But just using the word "red" does not conjure up anything for me except boredom, blandness and a great big sigh.  Why not use a color that is attention-grabbing, mysterious, friendly, sophisticated, or mentally stimulating.  Such as:  Wild watermelon, scarlet, radical red, or razzmatazz.  Some color name that brings to mind an image of what you are trying to portray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Razzmatazz - a go getter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watermelon - light-hearted doer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scarlet - loose woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Radical Red - champion of causes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about it, if you were a crayon, what color would you be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FYI - I am Purple Pizzazz - a deep thinking, feeling doer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-3977355526642689181?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/3977355526642689181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=3977355526642689181&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/3977355526642689181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/3977355526642689181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2008/07/red.html' title='Red'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-4312987150220499558</id><published>2008-06-26T07:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T08:09:57.458-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bad Commercials'/><title type='text'>My time to quit, NOT</title><content type='html'>I hate this commercial.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen up, the announcer says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a cigarette when I get up - let's say 6am&lt;br /&gt;I have a cigarette on my way to work - let's say 8am&lt;br /&gt;I have a cigarette on my break - let's say 10am&lt;br /&gt;I have a cigarette after lunch - ok, let's say 12&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any one reading this have a clue of what really pisses me off?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No??  Ok, let's compare: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a cigarette when I get up - let's say 6am; 6:30; 7:00; 7:30 and  in-between&lt;br /&gt;I have a cigarette (or two or three) on my way to work&lt;br /&gt;I have a cigarette (two if I have time) on my break&lt;br /&gt;I have a cigarette (or two or three) after lunch and shop by the Quickie Express    to buy another pack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, this woman says she is a smoker. What do you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-4312987150220499558?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/4312987150220499558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=4312987150220499558&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/4312987150220499558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/4312987150220499558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-time-to-quit-not.html' title='My time to quit, NOT'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-8950973926830495613</id><published>2008-05-01T06:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T07:00:27.834-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Complaint Dept'/><title type='text'>Give me SLEEVES</title><content type='html'>When did the fashion designers decide that we don't need full sleeves on our blouses, shirts, etc.??  Is it the cost of that little bit of fabric that they decided to save by reducing the length of a sleeve and cutting it down to 1/2 inch??  How much could that save?  Or is it just a fashion thing?  The one they use on models that weigh maybe 98 pounds soaking wet??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have any idea what I'm talking about??  No??  Ok, let me fill you in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies - have any of you over the age of 40 gone out to buy a blouse lately?  A t-shirt?  Fashion top?  Have you noticed that the underarm portion of a sleeve has gone from 3-4 inches to a mere 1/2 inch?  Have you tried to cover your fat, flabby arms with this?  Have you gone to the Fitting Room only to leave totally disgusted because it does NOT cover your arms?  No?? Then let me know where you shop!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in JC Penney and Dillard's the other day looking for new tops.  I tried them all - Juniors, Ladies, Misses and Big Fat Women.  Not a single top had any sleeve longer than 1/2" underarm.  Tried pulling the sleeves down to cover the flab and it was impossible.  The underpart of the sleeve keeps sticking in my armpit and leaves the flab hanging out for the world to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm telling you, that is NOT HAPPENING!!  I walked out of both stores totally digusted and I will tell you now that I will NOT buy a new top until they give me back a full sleeve.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LISTEN UP FASHION GUYS - THIS IS A REVOLT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-8950973926830495613?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/8950973926830495613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=8950973926830495613&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/8950973926830495613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/8950973926830495613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2008/05/give-me-sleeves.html' title='Give me SLEEVES'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-8522821203158683072</id><published>2008-05-01T06:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T06:48:34.118-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Complaint Dept'/><title type='text'>A hair up my ass</title><content type='html'>Ok, I can't stand it anymore.  I have the proverbial "hair up my ass" and I just have to complain.  No more Ms Nice Lady!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-8522821203158683072?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/8522821203158683072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=8522821203158683072&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/8522821203158683072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/8522821203158683072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2008/05/hair-up-my-ass.html' title='A hair up my ass'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-5625111520226562447</id><published>2007-09-21T19:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T19:21:41.940-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zoo'/><title type='text'>Benefits of working at a zoo</title><content type='html'>Today ended on an exciting note for me.  I was leaving the zoo to go home and heard the tigers growling.  I was invited in to see them eat their evening meal.  Let me tell you - it was so exciting.  Ever had a 650 pound (yes, 650 pounds!!) male tiger snarl threateningly at you while he was crouching over a piece of meat?  It was enough to make me back up a couple steps.  He is HUGE and didn't like my looking at his meal one bit.  Visit this website and see some spectacular pictures of the tiger preserve of &lt;a href="http://www.marcantigers.org/"&gt;Dr. Marcan&lt;/a&gt; who provides the tigers to the zoo.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was quite an experience that I will not soon forget.  I told CD that he would just have to come over one night to see this.  Words are just so inadequate at times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a picture of one of the benefits of working at a zoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RvRejRBojAI/AAAAAAAAACg/lDjSeDINaBg/s1600-h/CA119+051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RvRejRBojAI/AAAAAAAAACg/lDjSeDINaBg/s200/CA119+051.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112815436931042306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-5625111520226562447?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/5625111520226562447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=5625111520226562447&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/5625111520226562447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/5625111520226562447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2007/09/benefits-of-working-at-zoo.html' title='Benefits of working at a zoo'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RvRejRBojAI/AAAAAAAAACg/lDjSeDINaBg/s72-c/CA119+051.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-6896344557602219226</id><published>2007-09-21T18:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T19:07:26.682-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gardening'/><title type='text'>Lily of the Nile</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RvRZWxBoi_I/AAAAAAAAACY/0kUs-zRG1jw/s1600-h/100_0380.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RvRZWxBoi_I/AAAAAAAAACY/0kUs-zRG1jw/s200/100_0380.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112809724624538610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I was going through my pictures this evening and came across this unusual lily that I have planted in the back yard.  It is called a Lily of the Nile or the proper name is a Agapanthus umbellatus.  It is a beautiful plant and the flower is on stalks 2-3 feet high.  It is attractive to bees, butterflies and birds and the flowers are fragrant.  Just plant and ignore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-6896344557602219226?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/6896344557602219226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=6896344557602219226&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/6896344557602219226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/6896344557602219226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2007/09/lily-of-nile.html' title='Lily of the Nile'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RvRZWxBoi_I/AAAAAAAAACY/0kUs-zRG1jw/s72-c/100_0380.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-3338109999795587573</id><published>2007-09-19T17:24:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T17:30:04.492-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zoo'/><title type='text'>Blue and Gold Macaw babies</title><content type='html'>Blue and Gold Macaw babies born at the zoo.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RvGhQU1G6mI/AAAAAAAAACA/t7e_1nanV9c/s1600-h/100_0435.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RvGhQU1G6mI/AAAAAAAAACA/t7e_1nanV9c/s200/100_0435.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112044353883662946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RvGio01G6oI/AAAAAAAAACQ/rYMPQ5C0xpE/s1600-h/100_0436.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RvGio01G6oI/AAAAAAAAACQ/rYMPQ5C0xpE/s200/100_0436.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112045874302085762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet Shiloh and Skylar.  They are enjoying their morning meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RvGiLU1G6nI/AAAAAAAAACI/O7cTOOqq7VQ/s1600-h/100_0421.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RvGiLU1G6nI/AAAAAAAAACI/O7cTOOqq7VQ/s200/100_0421.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112045367495944818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shiloh was hatched a week before his sibling, Skylar.  He loves to take care of her and is always trying to feed her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-3338109999795587573?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/3338109999795587573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=3338109999795587573&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/3338109999795587573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/3338109999795587573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2007/09/blue-and-gold-macaw-babies.html' title='Blue and Gold Macaw babies'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RvGhQU1G6mI/AAAAAAAAACA/t7e_1nanV9c/s72-c/100_0435.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-4951030276945364471</id><published>2007-09-19T16:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T17:24:04.371-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zoo'/><title type='text'>It's a jungle in here</title><content type='html'>Thought I'd add a few photos I have taken of the gift shop.  It keeps me busy and I don't have much time to work on this.  But I have said to myself "Self, show them what you are doing" so here we go.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RvGaeU1G6lI/AAAAAAAAAB4/soyjPA-9ojg/s1600-h/100_0456.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RvGaeU1G6lI/AAAAAAAAAB4/soyjPA-9ojg/s320/100_0456.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112036897820437074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the lion section.  It looks pretty good but I still want to add details to it.  For an example, a small descriptive sign telling about our lion, Clarence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am learning about retailing and merchandising and more. Being the gift shop manager is a challenge - deciding what to order, when to order it, what to price it and then moving it about about every two weeks to keep it fresh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This gift shop is different from other small gift shops in that most of the customers are coming to see the animals.  I rarely have customers that come in just for the gift shop unless they are looking for that exotic animal gift.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One item that sells very well are rubber snakes.  Green, black, blue, red.  Doesn't matter - the kids love them, the moms hate them.  After they make the purchase, I tell the mothers that after the rubber snake has frightened them for the umpteenth time that they are great for gardens, flower beds, etc... where you may have trouble with birds and the local wildlife.  Then yesterday I had a captain from one of the local fishing boats come in looking for the 52" blacksnake we sold last year.  It appears that they are great to scare off the gulls.  So I guess I will order more of those and give him a call when they come in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are ever in the area, drop in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-4951030276945364471?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/4951030276945364471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=4951030276945364471&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/4951030276945364471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/4951030276945364471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2007/09/its-jungle-in-here.html' title='It&apos;s a jungle in here'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RvGaeU1G6lI/AAAAAAAAAB4/soyjPA-9ojg/s72-c/100_0456.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-1420027079118124008</id><published>2007-07-28T08:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T08:47:26.239-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bits n&apos; Pieces'/><title type='text'>Miami Dolphins</title><content type='html'>Read today that Miami has all 87 players signed and ready to go in today's first training camp.  GO MIAMI!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read today that our new quarterback is Trent Green, 14 year veteran.  GO MIAMI!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not looking for a Dan Marino, just a decent quarterback that can win some games.  GO MIAMI!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem with living here is that Miami games are rarely shown.  GO MIAMI!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GO MIAMI!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-1420027079118124008?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/1420027079118124008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=1420027079118124008&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/1420027079118124008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/1420027079118124008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2007/07/miami-dolphins.html' title='Miami Dolphins'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-6046157271557727013</id><published>2007-07-28T07:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T08:15:52.558-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aging'/><title type='text'>One more time on aging</title><content type='html'>I've been asked, off blog, if my rules to deal with the older generation applied to me or to others.  My off-the-cuff response is "does it matter?"  If it strikes a response from you then I have accomplished what I intended which is that you thought about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-6046157271557727013?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/6046157271557727013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=6046157271557727013&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/6046157271557727013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/6046157271557727013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2007/07/one-more-time-on-aging.html' title='One more time on aging'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-1330079398006057252</id><published>2007-07-25T07:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T07:36:19.231-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aging'/><title type='text'>Rules to deal with the older generation</title><content type='html'>Rule #1 - Be compassionate.  You will be one of us sooner than you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule #2 - Remember that what is mine is mine to do with as I please, I &lt;u&gt;earned&lt;/u&gt; it with blood, sweat and tears. I do not have to leave it to you. Until my mind has gone completely south I still get to decide and I do not have to explain it to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule #3 - Don't treat us like children. Treat us like adults with age-related problems.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule #4 - Forgive us our transgressions and we'll forget yours. If you don't you may find your inheritance is a basket to go to hell in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule #5 - Remember who helped make sure that you always had food to eat, a safe place to lie your head, and a slap on the bottom to remind you of your manners.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule #6 - Don't piss off my caregiver or you may end up wiping my ass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-1330079398006057252?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/1330079398006057252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=1330079398006057252&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/1330079398006057252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/1330079398006057252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2007/07/rules-to-deal-with-older-generation.html' title='Rules to deal with the older generation'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-480019183482174035</id><published>2007-07-25T07:03:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T07:32:40.525-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aging'/><title type='text'>Five months and counting</title><content type='html'>Shall I age gracefully?  I am told that getting old is about aging with dignity.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see what I have to look forward to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing - never been great due to perforated eardrums and now it's going to hell in that proverbial basket we've talked about before.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eyesight - not what it used to be and going downhill from here. Next stop coke bottles.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lifting - anything heavy is beyond me. More than 15 pounds gets a cry for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joints - popping, groaning and complaining loudly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memory - selective, which may not in itself be a bad thing, but sure does tend to piss off other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;General health - face it, this is as good as it is going to get.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why the reflective attitude today you ask?  Growing older will do that for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-480019183482174035?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/480019183482174035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=480019183482174035&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/480019183482174035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/480019183482174035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2007/07/five-months-and-counting.html' title='Five months and counting'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-2030617415077802425</id><published>2007-05-31T08:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T09:13:32.867-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bits n&apos; Pieces'/><title type='text'>Hell in a handbasket</title><content type='html'>The other day I heard someone say "&lt;em&gt;he is going to hell in a handbasket&lt;/em&gt;".  I remember this saying from my childhood.  It confused me then and confuses me still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What size does the handbasket have to be to fit a guy inside?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would it still be considered a handbasket if you can't carry it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would the handbasket burn up as it got close to hell which is supposed to be all fire and brimstone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who would stuff the guy in that handbasket?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is going to carry the handbasket to get this guy there?  You want to be on the committee?  Where do you take it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The devil must have a whole closet full of handbaskets if you can go to hell in one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.worldwidewords.org/qa/qa-goi1.htm"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-2030617415077802425?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/2030617415077802425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=2030617415077802425&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/2030617415077802425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/2030617415077802425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2007/05/hell-in-handbasket.html' title='Hell in a handbasket'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-7302193138530175971</id><published>2007-05-28T06:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T06:23:36.851-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bits n&apos; Pieces'/><title type='text'>Let's talk turkey</title><content type='html'>Fact:  Turkey &lt;strong&gt;poop&lt;/strong&gt; to help fuel new power plant. [Karnowski, AP, Benson, Minn]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever wonder what happens to all those turkey eggs?  Ever ate one?  Where do they go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turkey eggs taste just like regular old hen's eggs, just bigger.  I can only remember eating one or two in my life when I was a just a kid, Mom scrambled them.  Of course, you can't use them in a recipe because you'd have to figure out how to divide it..most recipes call for hen's eggs.  Ok, this calls for 3 hen's eggs so that means it is one or is it one and one-half turkey eggs?  Quick, somebody call a ph.D. with a calculator!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that the turkey industry uses the eggs to make, get this, MORE turkeys!!After all, Thanksgiving is right around the corner!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-7302193138530175971?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/7302193138530175971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=7302193138530175971&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/7302193138530175971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/7302193138530175971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2007/05/lets-talk-turkey.html' title='Let&apos;s talk turkey'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-3035808200580996473</id><published>2007-05-26T08:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-26T08:39:30.950-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birds'/><title type='text'>Spring is here!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/Rlg4NpN-dkI/AAAAAAAAAAw/eiNq6-NXf-w/s1600-h/100_0377.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/Rlg4NpN-dkI/AAAAAAAAAAw/eiNq6-NXf-w/s320/100_0377.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068863187659421250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you haven't seen it before, here is a cute picture of a baby mockingbird waiting for mamma to come back with a great big fat juicy worm.  He better get it while he can because mamma will kick him out in a week to fend for himself!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-3035808200580996473?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/3035808200580996473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=3035808200580996473&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/3035808200580996473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/3035808200580996473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2007/05/spring-is-here.html' title='Spring is here!!'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/Rlg4NpN-dkI/AAAAAAAAAAw/eiNq6-NXf-w/s72-c/100_0377.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-2514243890002422562</id><published>2007-03-08T07:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-08T07:48:47.649-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Diet'/><title type='text'>Why is it</title><content type='html'>That when the family cook goes on a diet, the whole family goes on a diet.  CD has been told to change his eating habits and lose weight or the alternative is to take another pill to reduce his cholesterol.  Well,  Doc, you are talking to the guy who is like a child told to eat his spinach.  He hides his multi-vitamins that I try to give him each day so that he doesn't have to take them.  Every day I have to ask "Did you take your vitamin?" - just like a kid that you have to ask if they finished their homework.  And the answers are the same.....moan, groan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This diet is the Sacred Heart diet, which by the way, really sucks.  Nothing but fruit and a veggie soup on the first day.  All veggies and veggie soup on the second day.  Veggie, fruit and more veggie soup on the third day.  Today is only bananas and skim milk.....oh, and yes, more of that freakin' veggie soup.  IT does work and does help to get rid of chocolate cravings because you start to crave actual food - and I have lost 7 pounds and we are only starting on day four.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked CD on the second day of this fast if he had even hinted to the doctor that he downs ice cream every night.  I mean he eats it like they were going to stop making it any day now.  An ice cream shortage coming?  A law against ice cream because it possibly may make your cholesterol higher?  BUT, no, he didn't mention that.  Instead we are on this fast way to lose weight so he can stock up on ice cream again.  My advice to CD, take the stupid pill!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style='text-align:center'&gt;&lt;A HREF='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RfATSJA7SHI/AAAAAAAAAAk/ZNeKCWf-p6o/s1600-h/images.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RfATSJA7SHI/AAAAAAAAAAk/ZNeKCWf-p6o/s320/images.jpg' border=0 alt='' id='BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_' &gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-2514243890002422562?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/2514243890002422562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=2514243890002422562&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/2514243890002422562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/2514243890002422562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2007/03/why-is-it.html' title='Why is it'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RfATSJA7SHI/AAAAAAAAAAk/ZNeKCWf-p6o/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-5607920294247457744</id><published>2007-02-16T06:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T06:53:08.958-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mother'/><title type='text'>In Memory</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style='text-align:center'&gt;&lt;A HREF='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RdWmsa5c_oI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SA_ptk8VwNY/s1600-h/Mom+roses.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RdWmsa5c_oI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SA_ptk8VwNY/s320/Mom+roses.jpg' border=0 alt='' id='BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_' &gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt; Mother&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt; 1925-2007&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;When tomorrow starts without me,&lt;br /&gt;And I'm not there to see,&lt;br /&gt;If the sun should rise and find your eyes&lt;br /&gt;all filled with tears for me, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish so much you wouldn't cry&lt;br /&gt;The way you did today,&lt;br /&gt;While thinking of the many things,&lt;br /&gt;We didn't get to say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know how much you love me,&lt;br /&gt;As much as I love you,&lt;br /&gt;and each time that you think of me,&lt;br /&gt;I know you'll miss me too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when tomorrow starts without me,&lt;br /&gt;Please try to understand,&lt;br /&gt;That an angel came and called my name,&lt;br /&gt;And took me by the hand,&lt;br /&gt;and said my place was ready,&lt;br /&gt;In heaven far above,&lt;br /&gt;And that I'd have to leave behind&lt;br /&gt;All those I dearly love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as I turned to walk away,&lt;br /&gt;A tear fell from my eye&lt;br /&gt;For all my life, I'd always thought,&lt;br /&gt;I didn't want to die. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had so much to live for,&lt;br /&gt;So much left yet to do,&lt;br /&gt;It seemed almost impossible,&lt;br /&gt;That I was leaving you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought of all the yesterdays&lt;br /&gt;The good ones and the bad,&lt;br /&gt;I thought of all the love we shared,&lt;br /&gt;and all the fun we had &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could re-live yesterday&lt;br /&gt;Just even for a while,&lt;br /&gt;I'd say good-bye and kiss you&lt;br /&gt;And maybe see you smile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I fully realized,&lt;br /&gt;That this could never be,&lt;br /&gt;For emptiness and memories,&lt;br /&gt;would take the place of me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when I thought of worldly things,&lt;br /&gt;I might miss come tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;I thought of you, and when I did,&lt;br /&gt;My heart was filled with sorrow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when I walked through heaven's gates,&lt;br /&gt;I felt so much at home&lt;br /&gt;When God looked down and smiled at me,&lt;br /&gt;From His great golden throne. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "This is eternity,&lt;br /&gt;And all I've promised you."&lt;br /&gt;Today your life on earth is past,&lt;br /&gt;But here life starts anew &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise no tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;But today will always last,&lt;br /&gt;And since each day's the same way&lt;br /&gt;There's no longing for the past. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have been so faithful,&lt;br /&gt;So trusting and so true.&lt;br /&gt;Though there were times&lt;br /&gt;You did some things&lt;br /&gt;You knew you shouldn't do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you have been forgiven&lt;br /&gt;And now at last you're free.&lt;br /&gt;So won't you come and take my hand&lt;br /&gt;And share my life with me? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when tomorrow starts without me,&lt;br /&gt;Don't think we're far apart,&lt;br /&gt;For every time you think of me,&lt;br /&gt;I'm right here, in your heart. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;If Tomorrow Starts Without Me&lt;br /&gt;Author believed to be&lt;br /&gt;David Romano &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-5607920294247457744?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/5607920294247457744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=5607920294247457744&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/5607920294247457744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/5607920294247457744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2007/02/in-memory-of-my-mom.html' title='In Memory'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8oncggkyl-4/RdWmsa5c_oI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SA_ptk8VwNY/s72-c/Mom+roses.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-4590015639160883315</id><published>2007-01-04T06:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-04T07:45:48.359-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Soap Box'/><title type='text'>Women's clothing and measurements</title><content type='html'>CD asked me yesterday how women's clothing were sized.  What were the standards?  Like most men he does not understand that most of our clothing cannot be purchased by waist and length.  For instance, 36" waist x 31" instep.  Don't we wish?  Of course that would mean that we would have to know our waist measurement and I'm not sure I want to.  I cannot remember the last time I took a tape measurer to my waist, or thighs, let alone the breast area.  How do you measure breasts that are sagging, by the way??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: "How do you know what size to buy"  Good question.  Harder still to answer.  "Well," I said, "you know approximately what size you are - 10, 12, 14 so when you go into the fitting room you take all 3 sizes with you and try them on.  The one that fits the best is the size you are".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then asked what about the instep?  Again, a good question. The answer is is that it doesn't matter.  If you are short or do not wear 4" heels then they will need to be hemmed.  In amazement, he said: "so you buy pants that are too long for you every time"?  "No", I replied: "sometimes they are labeled short, medium, and long".  "So what you are telling me, he says, is that you cannot buy off the rack and expect the item of clothing to fit correctly". "You got it!", I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In further explanation to his consternation, I said: "if you are lucky you can find a good designer and her/his clothing will always fit you.  There are no standards for women's clothing.  Every designer, clothing manufacturer makes up their own standard."  "Why?", he queried. "The designer has one model that he determines is the perfect size 8.  All their clothing sizes are either increased or decreased from this size 8 to make the other sizes."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now a size 8 is in the Missy category:  The perfect woman according to Designer A is 5.4, her bust is 35-1/2, her waist is 27-1/2, and her hips are 38.  Designer B disagrees:  The model woman is 5.7, 36, 26, 36 - his customers are a bit taller.  (both heights are within size 8 standard) and it goes on from there.  Now, CD is totally lost at sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I make it worse by adding that since the American woman is heavier than she used to be the designers do not want to make her feel bad and reject his clothing by putting the correct size on them.  As an example, Designer A's perfect woman put on 10 pounds and she should be wearing a size 10.  But he wants her money so he just relabels all his clothing.  Her perfect size 8 is actually a 10 but only the designer knows for sure.  And the label that one size fits all is actually a joke.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There has been attempts to bring women's clothing sizes to one standard but don't look for it any time in the near future.  There is an interesting website available that allows you to post your measurements, your favorite brand names/stores, and it will give you what size you should shop for.  You can find it at &lt;a href="http://fitme.com/"&gt;FitMe&lt;/a&gt;.  I threw in my measurements as best I know without touching that tape measurer and got back sizes I really didn't what to know about.  So in conclusion just let me say: "CD, forget about it!".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-4590015639160883315?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/4590015639160883315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=4590015639160883315&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/4590015639160883315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/4590015639160883315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2007/01/womens-clothing-and-measurements.html' title='Women&apos;s clothing and measurements'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-7668379044430556707</id><published>2007-01-02T06:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T07:03:50.092-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Authors'/><title type='text'>Christine Feehan</title><content type='html'>During the Christmas holiday we had dinner with some old friends of ours.  She is a voracious reader, like me, and of course lying on her sofa was a copy of Christine Feehan's books, "Twilight Before Christmas."  It was one I had not read so my friend gave it to me.  We agreed to trade authors that we like so that when we are looking for a good book to sink into for a couple hours, we won't waste a lot of time buying a book that is full of nothingness.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.christinefeehan.com/"&gt;Christine Feehan&lt;/a&gt; is absolutely one of my favorite authors.  She writes a variety of stories from the paranormal to contemporary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She writes in series which I love, such as The Dark Series.  It features Carpathians, the good guys, who fight the vampires, the bad guys.  It has a strong sense of honor and family as well as a lot of really hot sex.  If you have an aversion to sex, don't read them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another series is the Ghostwalkers.  As Christine says they are "action/thriller series grounded in science with heavy paranormal elements".  And the heroes and heroines each meet a need within each other to make them the perfect couple.  Not as much hot and steamy breathing as the Dark Series, but still an excellent read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another series is the Drake Sisters.  They are modern day witches with unusual talents that are used to help the people of the town in which they live.  Enjoyable reading material suitable for most people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoy each and every book written by Christine Feehan.  She does a great deal of research and shares it with the reader on her website.  If you do read one of her books, let me know which one and why you did or did not like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-7668379044430556707?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/7668379044430556707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=7668379044430556707&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/7668379044430556707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/7668379044430556707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2007/01/christine-feehan.html' title='Christine Feehan'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-5037896642386029713</id><published>2007-01-01T08:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-01T08:29:28.263-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year Resolutions</title><content type='html'>I don't do resolutions.  Like most people I procrastine and unequivocally, indirectly prevaricate to the point that the resolution is lost in ambiguity.  So I don't do resolutions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do attempts. Like in I will attempt to lose 10 pounds this year and not let it find me again.&lt;br /&gt;I will attempt to get all my genealogical papers, pictures and documents in order.  I will think about attempting to quit smoking.  See, attempts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why get your knickers in knot when you know the resolution ain't going to work.  Whereas, with the attempt you at least have a fighting chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So good luck to you and good luck to me.  We're going to need it.  By the way, Happy New Year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-5037896642386029713?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/5037896642386029713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=5037896642386029713&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/5037896642386029713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/5037896642386029713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2007/01/new-year-resolutions.html' title='New Year Resolutions'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-116584345583235446</id><published>2006-12-11T07:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T07:24:15.846-06:00</updated><title type='text'>NYDJ "Tummy Tuck"</title><content type='html'>I read the ad very carefully and it said:  Not your daughters jeans - or NYDJ "Tummy Tuck".  The benefits of buying this $100+ pair of jeans are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Flatten your tummy &lt;br /&gt;-Make you look slimmer&lt;br /&gt;-Contour your hips&lt;br /&gt;-Lift and shape&lt;br /&gt;-Let you wear one size smaller&lt;br /&gt;-Help you feel younger&lt;br /&gt;-Are made in the USA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, sounds good.  Only problem that I see is that all the models are twiggy thin so of course they look great in a pair of jeans.  How am I supposed to believe that anything they say about the NYDJeans is correct?  My thoughts on the benefits:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Flatten your tummy (anything that does this and is not spelled g-i-r-d-l-e or &lt;br /&gt;e-x-e-r-c-i-s-e is marvelous)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Makes you look slimmer (see above)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Contour your hips (again, see above)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Let you wear one size smaller (only time this has happened with me is when the article of clothing is mislabeled.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Helps you feel younger (A dye job, and a facelift would help too)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Made in the USA (I don't know where but I do know they get their denim from China and Hong Kong.  I'm not sure where they get the 4% lycra stretch material)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have been out and about and tried on a pair of NYDJ, let me know how young you feel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-116584345583235446?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/116584345583235446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=116584345583235446&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/116584345583235446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/116584345583235446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/12/nydj-tummy-tuck.html' title='NYDJ &quot;Tummy Tuck&quot;'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-116267361458690237</id><published>2006-11-04T14:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-04T14:53:34.616-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Surgery</title><content type='html'>I've had my surgery and only had to spend one night in the hospital.  I'm home and as comfortable as you can get with a sore butt.  Everything seems to be in working order and for that I am glad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently this surgery is common for women who have had a hysterectomy and wake up years later to find everything falling down between their legs.  There were three of us yesterday who had the surgery and I am proud to say I was the first to get out of there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have ever had surgery, did you remember anything?  I love those drugs that they use to put you out.  They tell you right before they do it and then you are off wandering in never-never land.  It is amazing.  Talk about a wonder drug!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am taking pain killers when needed, which is to say about 3 times a day, right now as I get real sore trying to sit.  Some positions are better than others.  I'll be on the computer for short periods of time because this chair is really uncomfortable.  I could use one of those donuts they give you after you have hemorrhoids operated on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been real lucky in my life and not needed a lot of surgery....this is only the third time I've been operated on. And I still have the perfect body, no smiley faces for me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-116267361458690237?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/116267361458690237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=116267361458690237&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/116267361458690237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/116267361458690237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/11/surgery.html' title='Surgery'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-116050610020477566</id><published>2006-10-10T13:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T13:48:20.206-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Of clotheslines</title><content type='html'>I was reading a news story yesterday about people complaining that they cannot have clotheslines in their yard.  And my first thought was, you're an idiot!!  Who would want a clothesline if you have a perfectly good dryer in your house!  At second thought, there are times that a little itty-bitty clothesline would be nice to have.  To freshen up linens on a sunkissed line.  To hang those articles of clothing that are too delicate to be thrown in the dryer.  But, I would not want to do it daily or even weekly.....been there, done that, bought the t-shirt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a kid it was part of my chores to hang clothes out on the clothesline for my mother.  For those of you who have not had the pleasure of doing this, you carry out a 50-lb basket of wet clothes, the clothespins are in their little bag that hangs loosely on the line so you can push it along as you go.  If you have four clotheslines, which were very common, you start in the center with your panties and shorts and hang the heavy stuff on the outside.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was no music, no iPods, no stereos blaring in the background, just you and your wet clothing.  Nature at its best.  Bend, stretch, shake and flail the jeans around to get out as many wrinkles as you can, then hang them up hoping to place the clothespins just right so they don't fall in the dirt. And, pray it doesn't start to rain.  After a couple trips out to see what is dry, you take it down, fold it neatly and place it in your basket.  Take it back into the house and put it away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds great, doesn't it.  Why pay to go to the gym, this is an all around exercise all by itself!  Of course, your neighbors and everyone that drives by knows what type of panties you wear, those grandmotherly white ones, and that Jockey is the brand preferred by the men in your house.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, you have to be laundry proud.  Our whites were white!!  No dull, yellowish finish for us.  The colors may have been a bit faded, but they were definitely squeaky clean thanks to the old &lt;a href="http://www.maytagclub.com/page-16.htm"&gt;wringer washer&lt;/a&gt;.  (That is a story in itself!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT, try this in Indiana in the middle of winter with a family of 7.  Clothes still got hung out, and they froze!!  Then you'd bring them back in and hang them in the utility room until they dried.  Your hands would be cracked and bleeding and have no feeling at all after a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can tell you that you better have worn that pair of jeans until they were dirty!!  No trying something on, leaving it on the floor, and waiting until they'd been washed and dried before putting them on again. And when you got home from school, your clothes were taken off and hung back up....put on your sweats.  Everything was sniff-checked.  If it didn't smell and if it wasn't stained, back into the closet it went!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's not even talk about the pile of ironing that would need to be done!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-116050610020477566?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/116050610020477566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=116050610020477566&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/116050610020477566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/116050610020477566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/10/of-clotheslines_10.html' title='Of clotheslines'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-116048456620289951</id><published>2006-10-10T07:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T07:49:26.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Playtime</title><content type='html'>I hear that today's kids need more playtime and I agree.  Too many of our kids have schedules tighter than most businesses and rarely get outside unless it is an organized sport.  We need to shut off the tv, computer, iPod, and send the little rugrats out to play.  Fresh air and games like kick the can, red rover red rover, red light - green light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a kid, we had a radio.  But no one listened to it except my mother and usually when we were not home.  We used to go outside to play after dinner until it was time to get ready for bed.  There was no way we'd stay in the house unless we were in trouble.  Besides, to stay in the house meant you'd probably get in trouble for being too noisy.  On the weekends we could usually get enough kids to play baseball in the field across the street.  Average families back then were 4.7 kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we got too hot or sweating, we'd plop down on the ground and just talk.  Kids just being kids.  We didn't worry about perverts or murderers or other scary stuff.  It happened, we just didn't hear about it - parents would whisper to other parents and everyone would keep an eye out, but we were not paranoid.  While our parents were in the house glad that we were all outside, today the parents need to put their lives on hold and go outside and sit and watch the kids be kids.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-116048456620289951?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/116048456620289951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=116048456620289951&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/116048456620289951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/116048456620289951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/10/playtime.html' title='Playtime'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-116048081454023830</id><published>2006-10-10T06:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T06:46:54.550-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/100_0282.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/200/100_0282.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gulf fritillary butterflies are swarming all over the place.  The bushes look alive!!&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-116048081454023830?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/116048081454023830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=116048081454023830&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/116048081454023830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/116048081454023830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/10/gulf-fritillary-butterflies-are.html' title=''/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-116005210434625545</id><published>2006-10-05T07:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-05T07:43:09.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Girls night out</title><content type='html'>Once a month I go out with the girls for an evening of dinner and gossip.  Short on the first as everyone is watching their weight and long on the second; after all, we are women.  It is a varied group ranging in age from 35 to 71 and we normally have about 10 people in attendance.  Last night we had 14 which was the largest group to date.  I remember when we first started this last year we had four.  Then four invites four more and on and on we grow.  Of course, people do have lives and sometimes there are trips and events and things that get in the way so 10 is the average.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in high school, I had friends that I would hang out with.  But I left town to join the Navy and left them all behind.  My life was full of different experiences and horizons and I was not comfortable as I once was.  And then I got married, started working full-time and had children, so my friends were my co-workers.  We rarely got together outside of the office setting.  A few showers, wedding - baby - etc. - and the company dance once a year, but never to go to dinner with just the girls. The problem with this scenario is that once you no longer work for that company, the friends fall away.  You no longer have in common that which was the glue that held you together.  Phone calls get scarce and then stop all together.  You have to ask yourself, my fault or theirs?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now my daughter seems to do well in this area and she just traveled to the other side of the nation to visit a high school friend.  My mother-in-law has friends from 70 years ago - so she is doing something right.  My sister-in-law never met a person that she wasn't immediate friends with.  When I think about what they are doing right, I have to think about what I may be doing wrong.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you have to care enough to get deeply involved in someone else's life.  That what you consider prying into your life may be just an effort to get to know you better.  Maybe you need to pick up the phone once in a while to speak to them, just to check in.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.  I still haven't figured it out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-116005210434625545?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/116005210434625545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=116005210434625545&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/116005210434625545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/116005210434625545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/10/girls-night-out.html' title='Girls night out'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115981508247852639</id><published>2006-10-02T13:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T13:51:22.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where's Shakespeare?</title><content type='html'>Of all the shows now on network TV, the best one is on Animal Planet - Meerkat Manor!  This show is actually a soap opera for the animal kingdom.  We have lust, fighting, babies, and drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone know what happened to Shakespeare?  Here is a lovable meerkat, all 12" and 2 pounds of him, that takes care of business for the Whiskers tribe.  He attacks a puff adder and gets bitten; runs off the troublemakers from a rival tribe; and babysits the poor little pups and saves them numerous times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so sad that we don't know what happened to Shakespeare yet.  I think he may have been captured by the Lazulis and held for ransom.  Or has the puff adder bite changed his personality so now he is off sniffing around a rival tribe's females like Carlos?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115981508247852639?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115981508247852639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115981508247852639&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115981508247852639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115981508247852639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/10/wheres-shakespeare.html' title='Where&apos;s Shakespeare?'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115748522670499576</id><published>2006-09-05T14:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T14:40:26.730-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sally Fields - raunchy?</title><content type='html'>I was perusing the current AARP magazine whose cover is Sally Fields.  To my surprise, my dad says "she's made some raunchy movies!". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sez I "are you talking about Sally Fields?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sez he: "yes"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laughing, I said: "are you kidding??  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sez he:  "No. She was in those movies with Burt Reynolds".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(By this time I'm outright laughing.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sez I:  "Raunchy?  Raunchy?  - When was the last time you watched a movie?  Have you seen the soap operas on daytime TV lately??" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sez he:  "No"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sez I:  "Sally Fields never showed a butt or boob in any of her movies.  She's a real life Gidget!!  Watch current TV shows if you want to see raunchy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I thought this was cute and wanted to share with you!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115748522670499576?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115748522670499576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115748522670499576&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115748522670499576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115748522670499576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/09/sally-fields-raunchy.html' title='Sally Fields - raunchy?'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115748429198664759</id><published>2006-09-05T14:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T14:24:52.033-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Big Smoke" Las Vegas weekend</title><content type='html'>The "Big Smoke" convention promises the cigar aficionado a weekend of seminars, cigars, liquor and food.  I think if HB decides to go he will probably want to take Nelle with him.  I think he should also take me - there are very good reasons I say this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One, he can go to all the seminars and won't have to worry about Nelle whining because she is stuck in a smoky, really smelly room with a bunch of guys discussing the differences in taste in a really smelly cigar.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two, we'd show up at all the important times, like the buffet lunch on Saturday and the Charlie Palmer breakfast on Sunday.  Then he'd be free to attend the "roll your own" seminar and we'd be back for the all important Brandy Bunch Sunday afternoon.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, it's going to take two of us to get you stuffed into your airplane seat after you turn green from all those really smelly cigars.  And, we'd hold the airbag for you, too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115748429198664759?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115748429198664759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115748429198664759&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115748429198664759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115748429198664759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/09/big-smoke-las-vegas-weekend.html' title='&quot;Big Smoke&quot; Las Vegas weekend'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115696101599737481</id><published>2006-08-30T12:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T13:03:38.983-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm hungry!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;WARNING:  if you get grossed out easily, go read something else!!&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you hit the big 50 the first thing the doctor wants is to stick something up your ass to see if it is working. Well, doc, wouldn't I know if it wasn't working? Actually, no. You may have all kinds of weird things growing in there and you will never know it until too late to do anything about them. Thanks to the medical history of your family (which is something you should know) you could possibly have a predilection to get those nasty little things. And, by the way, if you are related to me, get ready to have several over the course of your lifetime. I'm headed in at 6:00 am in the morning for my 3-year checkup. You see, I'm susceptible to polyps- (&lt;em&gt;gee thanks, Dad&lt;/em&gt;)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go to a quite progressive digestive disease center for this part of Florida. That is all they do - digestive diseases. That is, from the time the food hits your tongue until it comes out the end. No longer do you need to drink 10 gallons of foul-tasting, foul-smelling stuff the day before your test so that you can poop your brains out overnight. Now they start two whole days before the test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was "Low-Residue Diet" day. I could eat but only if it were white. For instance, oatmeal for breakfast with milk. That was cool and a very usual breakfast for me. Lunch was cottage cheese. OK - not too bad but I did miss the nuts, raisins and peaches I usually put in it. Dinner was sauteed fish with cauliflower. White, white, white. White bread is ok, white potato is ok, spaghetti is ok with no sauce. While these foods are ok for most of you, I don't eat them as a rule. What I really missed was chocolate!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is liquid day..you know, water, soda, coffee, tea, fruit juice, broth and jello. The good thing is you can drink in color and eat jello as long as they are not red. So I'm having a good old cup of beef broth after which I'll eat peach jello, have a cup of coffee and wish I could eat real food. AT 2:30 I start popping pills and wash them down with a small cup of Fleet Phospho-soda. Then the fun starts!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, well....I'll have a nice breakfast about 10 am tomorrow. After that, it will be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;fontcolor="red"&gt;WHERE'S THE CHOCOLATE!!&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/fontcolor&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115696101599737481?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115696101599737481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115696101599737481&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115696101599737481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115696101599737481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/08/im-hungry.html' title='I&apos;m hungry!'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115676998007780169</id><published>2006-08-28T07:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T07:59:40.120-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Comic books</title><content type='html'>Most of us have read comic books at one time or another.  I remember when I was a kid, spending $ .10 for a Superman.  It would disappear after the younger kids got hold of it.  But I never bought for speculation....at that age who would?  Well, my son for one would spend hours in the local Hialeah comic store.  Of course, it was an exercise in futility trying to read it because they were always wrapped in a plastic sleeve and god forbid that you bent the cover!!!  He'd hover over me like an avenging angel - sweating and white with anxiety until he got it safely back in its sleeve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even paperback books were treated with reverence by him.  Ever try to read a paperback without creasing the spine?  Darn near impossible.  I'd almost go blind trying to see the words in the center.  Besides, creases in the spine tells me that I've read them.  The more creases, the better the book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day he'll have a fortune in uncreased, sleeved books.  I hope!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://cbs11tv.com/watercooler/local_story_222104626.html"&gt;Rare Comic Book Collection To Be Auctioned&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115676998007780169?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115676998007780169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115676998007780169&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115676998007780169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115676998007780169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/08/comic-books.html' title='Comic books'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115662529245200345</id><published>2006-08-26T15:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-26T15:48:12.476-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop Pong</title><content type='html'>For those of you that remember the first video game "Pong", here is an updated version you can play on your computer at work, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://www.stoppong.com/bl.php' target='_blank'&gt;&lt;img src='http://www.stoppong.com/images/PongBadge.jpg' border='0'&gt;Stop Pong&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115662529245200345?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115662529245200345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115662529245200345&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115662529245200345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115662529245200345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/08/stop-pong.html' title='Stop Pong'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115624678725240127</id><published>2006-08-22T06:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-22T06:39:47.283-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Feuding neighbors</title><content type='html'>The neighbor that lives on the right side of us had four cats that she let roam the streets.  This was somewhat of an annoyance because they kill birds and other wildlife; we know of one cardinal that had CD seeing red.  Also, these cats would use our patio furniture as their beds due to the fact that they weren't allowed in her house.  This neighbor takes off on weekends to their other property out in the woods somewhere, leaving their 18-year old son to feed them.  Guess what?  No surprise here, the cats would not get fed.  So they roamed as cats are wont to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now a new neighbor moves in on left side.  Has other neighbors' cats dancing up on his roof at night, meowing under his window, fighting in his backyard.  New neighbor hates cats.  New neighbor goes to Animal Control and gets a catch cage.  Traps all cats he can entice into the cage and off they go to the gas chamber. Other neighbor no longer has cats and I've seen &lt;em&gt;Wanted&lt;/em&gt; posters by other neighbors on their missing cat/s.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I understand the irritation of this neighbor, I do not understand him not asking any of the neighbors if these captured cats are theirs.  He's weird and this is not the first time he displayed a singular lack of regard for others and their property.  For an example, we have a oak tree that is on our common property line.  He had tree man over to remove other trees and he wanted the part of our oak that hangs over his yard trimmed back.  CD was working in our backyard while they were discussing it.  The neighbor never said a word to CD about cutting it back.  I was home one day and suddenly there is a man in my tree. I called CD who came by from work and handled it.  Sometimes all it takes is common courtesy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our neighborhood is suddenly devoid of all roaming feline life.  However, suddenly there is an increase in snakes, frogs, mice, and palmetto bugs roaming the neighborhood.  And of course, feuding neighbors are always fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115624678725240127?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115624678725240127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115624678725240127&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115624678725240127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115624678725240127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/08/feuding-neighbors.html' title='Feuding neighbors'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115602147788543564</id><published>2006-08-19T16:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-19T16:05:42.753-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yard Art</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/100_0256.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/200/100_0256.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CD had to have new yard art.  What do you think of George?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115602147788543564?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115602147788543564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115602147788543564&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115602147788543564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115602147788543564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/08/yard-art_19.html' title='Yard Art'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115581778902798172</id><published>2006-08-17T07:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-17T09:31:14.166-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A mind goes flitting in the field of the life</title><content type='html'>Today I am thinking about Alzheimer's and the effect it has on lives.  I haven't had much experience with people who have had it, but I've heard of the ones that have taken care of them.  You've heard the old saying: "Of all the things I ever lost, I miss my mind the most."  Well, that may not be exactly true.  Other people miss your mind whilst you wander happily among the daisies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What has that to do with the price of tea in China, you ask?  In growing older the mind accepts certain things as truth while out flitting out in left field.  Boners occur.  Wrong dates for birthdays, for example. I notice that I am not as sharp as I use to be - dates are escaping me. Don't be surprised if you suddenly receive a Christmas card in July.  If you are thinking, she must of lost her mind, it may be true.  And by the way, you can't blame CD, all he does is supply the stamps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In some things I am sharper than I have ever been, and in some things, a little duller.  It must be all the things I've learned over my lifetime that has things a little crowded in my brain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115581778902798172?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115581778902798172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115581778902798172&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115581778902798172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115581778902798172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/08/mind-goes-flitting-in-field-of-life.html' title='A mind goes flitting in the field of the life'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115564891820982156</id><published>2006-08-15T07:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-15T08:35:18.283-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The cost of humiliation</title><content type='html'>I try to live my life not to hurt anyone. I may joke with you about something, but any hint of discomfort and the subject is closed.  I try not to pry into your life, if you want to tell me something personal about yourself that is up to you. It is true of acquaintances and of family members especially.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, why do some people think it is their God given right to embarass, harass and pry?  To make me uncomfortable by what they say is teasing, but is actually an act of humiliating, of degrading, in disguise.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you intentionally humiliate or degrade someone you have just cost yourself more than you can know.  If you say that you were only teasing, but keep on digging on that person, you are being cruel.  Did you ever stop to think about how you are hurting them? Or are you doing it out of some perverse feeling to put them in their place, which is less than you? Did you think it was okay just because it has happened to you?  Did it make you feel better about yourself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever thought about the consequences of your actions?  You will have lost truth, trust, respect, and in some cases, love.  Think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Humiliation - To lower the pride, dignity, or self-respect of; cause to feel shame; hurt the pride of.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115564891820982156?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115564891820982156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115564891820982156&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115564891820982156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115564891820982156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/08/cost-of-humiliation.html' title='The cost of humiliation'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115558915346358704</id><published>2006-08-14T15:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T15:59:14.056-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Awaiting the new fall line-up</title><content type='html'>I love good shows on TV.  HBO shows like Deadwood; the now dead Six Feet Under; The Sopranoes.  And regular TV favorites like ER, which I understand is renewed for two more years.  The now defunct West Wing was one of my favorites and should have been required viewing for our youth to understand how presidential candidates slough through different states for votes.  As a matter of fact, I know a few adults that should be chained to chairs to watch it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new fall line-up is now becoming known and we are seeing commercials to get you to turn in.  I am looking forward to a few of them.  The ones that have intrigued me are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SMITH with Ray Liotta.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHARK with James Woods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JERICHO with Skeet Ulrich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may also turn into Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, because I remember Saturday Night Live with Goldie Hawn and the crew.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there are others that will tweak my interest as they become known, but I do know that I will not be watching:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugly Betty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about Brian&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of Us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody Hates Chris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Knights of Prosperity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND, of course, I am waiting for Survivor - Cook Island.  #13!!  Can you believe it?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, thank you CBS for Big Brother - All Stars.  Now, can you PULEEZE get rid of Janelle???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Note: Similarities in family names is big TV's fault, not mine]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115558915346358704?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115558915346358704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115558915346358704&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115558915346358704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115558915346358704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/08/awaiting-new-fall-line-up.html' title='Awaiting the new fall line-up'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115513939052184457</id><published>2006-08-09T10:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-09T11:03:10.596-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a life but I have nothing to say</title><content type='html'>Why is it that we are busy all day but when on the telephone we can't think of a single thing to say. Now there are those of you out there, you know who you are, that can talk about anything under the sun and not manage to bore me.  Then again, there are those that repeat themselves over and over about the same old shit; we all know people like this, we know who they are. But me? I say things like, I've been working too much.  I had a cold. My allergies are killing me.  CD is fine.  Joe Beegle needs a bath and Frazier is still wanting to lay an egg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad called yesterday.  Total talk time:  2 minutes  Just wanted to make sure I was still alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I call my granddaughter.  Total talk time:  5 minutes    She has a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter and son call me.  Total talk time:  varies - but always interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother-in-law calls me.  Total talk time:  Never less than 30 minutes.  Forget that show you've been waiting all week to see.  Run to set up the recorder because you're definitely going to miss the best part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of this story?  Sometimes it is enough just to hear your voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you haven't seen this already, check out   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://jacquii-the-icon.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; J &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115513939052184457?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115513939052184457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115513939052184457&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115513939052184457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115513939052184457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-have-life-but-i-have-nothing-to-say.html' title='I have a life but I have nothing to say'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115452196773951981</id><published>2006-08-02T06:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T07:32:49.233-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Other lives</title><content type='html'>When you don't know people well you make assumptions out of how they live.  You think that because people have been married for over 30 years that they get along well and that things are great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had occasion to slap myself upside the head the last couple of days.  On Sunday I worked the gift shop while the boss's wife finished her last day in the Snack bar.  She told me she would be taking the things that were hers; things that she had brought in.  I didn't have a problem with that.  Who would?  If they were hers she has a right to take them.  But it bothered me that I detected a note of bitchiness in her tone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another girl had covered the Snack bar on Monday so I could have a day off.  When I went into work yesterday, I was speechless.  The place was nearly bare. You would think we were closing it today instead of in a week or so.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am amazed at how the human mind works.  Here she is, the boss's wife.  He runs the place and is responsible for everything.  Apparently she is not suffering from any disease, has no health problems..the bottom line is that she wanted to work in the gift shop and he told her no.  I believe it was because she disses the manager there all the time and they get along like oil and water.  So, she got mad and quit.  And took all her toys home.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How petty.  How vindictive. Glad I'm not him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115452196773951981?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115452196773951981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115452196773951981&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115452196773951981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115452196773951981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/08/other-lives.html' title='Other lives'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115451915603241534</id><published>2006-08-02T06:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T06:45:56.063-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Aw, Mel</title><content type='html'>couldn't you just keep your big fat mouth shut?!  Noooo, you had to spit venomous hateful stuff directed at a people fighting for existence.  God knows, I love Mel Gibson with the gorgeous blue eyes and a sense of humor that flashes across the screen to you.  But, I hate a drunk.  Worse, I hate a mean drunk.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go to AAA.  Leave the bottle alone.  Apparently you can't handle it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115451915603241534?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115451915603241534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115451915603241534&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115451915603241534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115451915603241534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/08/aw-mel.html' title='Aw, Mel'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115392102726347797</id><published>2006-07-26T06:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-26T08:37:07.416-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Super slinger</title><content type='html'>Meet the new super snow cone slinger!!  Yes, me, lol!!  The lady that worked in the snack bar is quitting Monday due to health reasons.  So that leaves the snack bar empty-handed for whatever time is left in the tourist season, maybe two or three weeks at the most.  While I would not consider doing it for any serious length of time, I can handle it for that long.  So, starting next Tuesday I'll be working full time with Sundays and Mondays off.  At least I don't have to wear one of those stupid peaky hats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I leave here today, I'm going to see if we have any type of a CD player.  The radio is fine, but occasionally I'd like to hear a little Queen or Meatloaf or other driving 95 music.  They brighten up the day like no other - makes you smile!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115392102726347797?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115392102726347797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115392102726347797&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115392102726347797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115392102726347797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/07/super-slinger.html' title='Super slinger'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115374720763257381</id><published>2006-07-24T08:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-24T08:20:07.666-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where did July go?</title><content type='html'>Look at the date!!  Where did July go?  It must have slipped past me while I was lying on the couch dreaming of days that I did not have a cold.  I am still suffering from the effects of it, coughing and wheezing.  Hope it finds a new home soon, I'm tired of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have gotten a sprinkle of rain the last couple of days.  Hope this is the new pattern as our well is starting to go dry, the sprinkler system is just pumping out enough water to keep the grass kinda green.  I know some of you are wishing for dryer days where you live, but we have been in a drought, rainfall is down 21 inches for the year here.  I'm looking forward to one of those rain-all-day days where you stay inside (if you can) and read a good book.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had to work the last three days and still have two more ahead of me before I get a day off.  One of the girls has left us to pursue her master's degree in Alabama.  I'm going to miss her, she loved to work so I had great hours.  While they will never replace her, I hope they find another body soon.  In the meantime, the checks are nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off I go, snack bar today.  Snow cones anyone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115374720763257381?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115374720763257381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115374720763257381&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115374720763257381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115374720763257381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/07/where-did-july-go.html' title='Where did July go?'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115326005701127733</id><published>2006-07-18T16:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T17:00:57.043-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate colds!!</title><content type='html'>Can you catch a cold over the internet??  If you can, then I think I caught it from &lt;a href="http://cheshirecatgrinz.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kitty Kat&lt;/a&gt;.  She has been sneezing and wheezing way up there but I think those little germs came all the way down here to catch me unawares, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when I have a head cold.  For some reason, my brain shuts down and the nose faucet leaks so much that I would swear I have a loose washer up there that needs tightened.  Someone call the plumber.  This week, I'd buy stock in Proctor and Gamble and whatever other company deals in kleenex and cold meds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had a lot of money, I'd be buying stock in things that we will need as we grow out.  Health care and health related items are going to be HOT, HOT, HOT as the oldest of the baby-boomers will hit 60 this year, hard and fast.  And, in such numbers that everyone will be reeling from the shock. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something is going to have to be done but I don't have any answers.  Thank goodness for insurance, for as long as it lasts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115326005701127733?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115326005701127733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115326005701127733&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115326005701127733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115326005701127733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-hate-colds.html' title='I hate colds!!'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115261742460049470</id><published>2006-07-11T06:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T06:30:24.650-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pawn shops</title><content type='html'>Yesterday a friend had to replace his cell phone after leaving it in his jeans which went into the washing machine.  He went to Nextel for a replacement phone but in order to get a free one the clerk told him that he would have to upgrade his plan from $39.95 to $59.95.  At that rate, $60 per month, he could buy a new one and save himself mega bucks after the first year.  What surprised us is that the clerk told him to check out the local pawn shops.  That they got them in all the time and he could get a slightly used one for a fraction of the cost of a new one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he and CD went shopping.  Guess what!  He got a replacement phone for $100.  The guy at the pawn shop said that even Nextel buys Blackberries from them. All the pawn shop has to do is call them and they will come and get them.  He said he didn't call them, that he prefers to sell to customers and they fly out the door.  He didn't know if Nextel resold them or just wanted to get them off the market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, as long as you have a newer model cellphone that has a chip that is transferable to another phone, you can buy any discount phone you want.  I just thought I'd share this with you cellphone buffs out there.  It doesn't do me any good, my cellphone is so old that I would have sign a new contract.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115261742460049470?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115261742460049470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115261742460049470&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115261742460049470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115261742460049470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/07/pawn-shops.html' title='Pawn shops'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115253602815349085</id><published>2006-07-10T07:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T07:53:48.196-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New dictionary entries</title><content type='html'>Have you heard the new words that are being incorporated into the &lt;a href="http://www.m-w.com/"&gt;Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary&lt;/a&gt;?  Words such as: unibrow, bling??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Unibrow = one continuous brow.  [This has been used since M*A*S*H the series back in the 1970's with Margaret's boyfriend, Colonel Penobscot.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bling = glitzy jewelry [think Mr. T in the A-team]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;soul patch = a small patch of hair under the lower lip [think you missed a spot when you were shaving]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;drama queen =a person given to often excessively emotional performances or reactions [think my granddaughter, J]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;an empty suit = an ineffectual executive (boy, have I known a few of these guys!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;himbo = an attractive but vacuous man [think "male bimbo"]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mouse potato = same as couch potato.  (self-explanatory, lol)&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These words are supposed to be enduring, showing up a lot in magazines, newspapers, etc..  But, in a conversation yesterday with above said granddaughter, I learned that "bling" is now passe'.  The new hip word to describe glitzy jewelry is &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;"ICE"&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;!!  So the old becomes new again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115253602815349085?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115253602815349085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115253602815349085&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115253602815349085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115253602815349085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/07/new-dictionary-entries.html' title='New dictionary entries'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115192948230384553</id><published>2006-07-03T07:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-03T07:24:42.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Of sno-cones and other tasty things</title><content type='html'>Have you eaten a sno-cone lately?  Sweet syrupy drink made with shaved ice?  We offer several flavors and I have tried them all, strawberry, cherry, grape, lime, blue raspberry, pina colada, watermelon, blue bubblegum.  They are all terrible but the kids, and some adults, love them.  They are also terribly profitable.  Buy a bottle of syrup, grate up some ice, and charge $2.50+ for them, at a profit of about $2.00 after operating costs.  We thank you, the animals thank you - since it is a non-profit organization, all the monies go back into the business.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another nasty food is corn dogs.  I don't know how anyone eats them.  They are gross.  A teeny weeny hot dog blanketed under a mound of dough.  UGH!  These are bad for your heart and really really bad for your hips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do make a mean salted pretzel though.  I can microwave those with the best of them and get the salt just right.  Wouldn't eat one, but I have a way with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't ask for ice cream though, especially if you are outside in 90+ degree heat.  Do you know how long they last?  Can you eat that fast?  Can your kid eat that fast?  Usually they just end up wearing them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is brought to mind since I am working the snack bar today....sure hope it is busy as it can get extremely boring out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115192948230384553?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115192948230384553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115192948230384553&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115192948230384553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115192948230384553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/07/of-sno-cones-and-other-tasty-things.html' title='Of sno-cones and other tasty things'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115133386534927348</id><published>2006-06-26T08:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-26T09:57:45.820-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chocolate cravings</title><content type='html'>I have a bad craving for chocolate this morning.  Thank goodness I am headed to Wally Mart in an hour so I can pick some up.  M&amp;Ms, 3 Musketeers, chocolate covered peanuts, Reese's pieces, you name it - I'll eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have some lovely Ghirardelli chocolate in the refrigerator that CD got from J &amp; J for Father's Day.  He would be happy to share it but I only took one piece, I'll leave the rest for him to enjoy.  Why?  Because his idea of enjoying a piece of chocolate is to take 1/3 of a 1.25 oz bar of milk chocolate and eat it.  That's it!  Do you know how small that is?  It's TINY!! I'd finish off the whole bar and want more!!!!! A 6.0 oz bar would just about take the craving off, if I had it with a vanilla caffe' latte from my local Java hut. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even the health centers are now saying that you no longer need to feel guilty if you enjoy a small piece of dark chocolate once in awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wonder what kinda of chocolate I'll find today?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115133386534927348?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115133386534927348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115133386534927348&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115133386534927348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115133386534927348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/06/chocolate-cravings.html' title='Chocolate cravings'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115132868346253321</id><published>2006-06-26T08:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-26T08:31:41.976-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Did you hear that?</title><content type='html'>CD had to work late the other night and I was sleeping when he got home.  When I went to turn the coffeepot on, I found this note:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"I got in at 12:30 - do not have to work tomorrow. You and Joe Beegle were sleeping much too comfortably in my bed.  I'm upstairs."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Translation:  I got in late, don't wake me up.  How come I have to go sleep upstairs?  Why isn't Joe Beegle on the floor in his own bed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Response:  I do not sleep well alone.  I even sleep on the couch at my daughter's house even though there is a perfectly good bed in the spare room.  I sleep way too soundly, I would never hear anyone breaking in.  So, if you are gone, Joe Beegle is more than welcome.  After all, who did you have to wake up because of an earthquake.  And by the way, why do you always says "did you hear that"?  No, I didn't.  You go check, I'll dial 911.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115132868346253321?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115132868346253321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115132868346253321&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115132868346253321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115132868346253321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/06/did-you-hear-that.html' title='Did you hear that?'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115109977016826053</id><published>2006-06-23T16:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-23T16:56:10.203-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Declaration of Independence</title><content type='html'>A few years back, seems like yesterday, we went to Washington, D. C. and in the rotunda we were able to see the original Declaration of Independence. It was chilling to see the document and signatures that started us on our road to freedom, on the road to being America, land of the free, home of the brave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have a chance to sign this beautiful document, online, in celebration of its 225th anniversay. I have and printed it out.  I am feeling extremely patriotic.  Red, white and blue.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a look, sign your name, it is a stirring gesture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://archives.gov/national-archives-experience/charters/treasure/index.html"&gt;Declaration of Independence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;IN CONGRESS, July 4, 1776.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.....&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115109977016826053?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115109977016826053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115109977016826053&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115109977016826053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115109977016826053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/06/declaration-of-independence.html' title='Declaration of Independence'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115090015245528437</id><published>2006-06-21T08:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-21T09:30:07.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Animals in the news - did you see</title><content type='html'>Where Belle Beegle saved her owners' life?  Cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where Louis the cat is under house arrest for the rest of his life?  Also cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where lady who bought a chichuhua pup beat the seller over the head with it after it died.  Pup was too young to be separated by mom.  Not cool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A police pursuit ended when the suspect's dog, not happy about being bounced around in the car, bit its owner on the face. The dog, which is partly pit bull, "became so agitated that he bit his owner in the face," Edwards said. "And this is what ended the chase." The bite removed part of Galanis' nose and he stopped.  Cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A black bear picked the wrong yard for a jaunt, running into a territorial tabby who ran the furry beast up a tree - twice.  Cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can see what I did with my morning, lol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115090015245528437?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115090015245528437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115090015245528437&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115090015245528437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115090015245528437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/06/animals-in-news-did-you-see.html' title='Animals in the news - did you see'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-115013769236679188</id><published>2006-06-12T13:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-12T13:41:32.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yoo-Hoo, Alberto!!</title><content type='html'>Come and see us, Alberto.  We haven't had any rain for two months now and that little teaser you gave us last night just wasn't enough.  We want more and we want it now!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is probably a very rare occasion in that you want a Cat 1 hurricane knocking on your door.  Florida has been as dry as the Sahara, and the lawns that are not getting frequent waterings are starting to look like dunes.  We have had several nasty fires in the area and as of today, the local Fire Departments are out battling yet another one.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in this case we'd love to see Alberto dump some of that wet stuff on us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-115013769236679188?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/115013769236679188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=115013769236679188&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115013769236679188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/115013769236679188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/06/yoo-hoo-alberto.html' title='Yoo-Hoo, Alberto!!'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114968369432598779</id><published>2006-06-07T07:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T07:34:54.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>6-7-6</title><content type='html'>Just checking to make sure the rest of you are still out there.  The doomsayers would have had us believe we wouldn't be here today.......glad to see YOU made it.  As for those poor souls who didn't, may they rest in peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been resting my back which I pulled out of place while giving stinky Joe Beegle a bath.  He wouldn't hold still because he hates a bath, now he doesn't get a walkies and he doesn't understand why. Doh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch your favorite fast-food restaurant for Sara Lee's pound cake fries.  They are testing it now, and it is sure to become a hit for the fast-food lovers.  Ever wonder why they call it POUND cake?  In case you can't wait, here's a recipe for you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pound Cake Fries &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 frozen pound cake, thawed (Sara Lee or other brand)&lt;br /&gt;Hot fudge sauce**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preheat oven to 450 degrees. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quarter pound cake lengthwise into four slabs. Halve each slab lengthwise for 8 strips total. Trim ends of strips on the diagonal, then halve crosswise. Quarter each strip into "fries" for a grand total of 64. Spread in single layer on baking sheet and bake 6 minutes until edges of fries are golden. Serve with chocolate ketchup -- the hot fudge sauce -- heated until smooth for dipping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**or use your favorite fruit flavor sauce, i.e. raspberries.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114968369432598779?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114968369432598779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114968369432598779&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114968369432598779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114968369432598779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/06/6-7-6.html' title='6-7-6'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114950856578140684</id><published>2006-06-05T06:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-05T06:56:05.806-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to normal</title><content type='html'>In case you haven't noticed, I have been away.  I went to South Florida for ten days  to stay at my daughter's house to watch over things.  As my granddaughter is in her teens - there is not much babysitting required, just a presence in the house to keep her company, make sure she has food to eat, and that she got home when she was supposed to.  That was a breeze and she was a pleasure.  &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Also, my sister-in-law met me there and we spent several days cleaning out gramma's house of 20 years of accumulated stuff.  I'm not going into detail, suffice it to say that we used over two large boxes of trash bags.  That was not a breeze nor a pleasure.  But it was well worth the effort to be able to walk into two bedrooms and actually see that there were beds in there and that she did have a kitchen sink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home exhausted.  It has taken me three days just to get up the strength to sweep my own house.  Thankfully, CD kept it clean and did laundry and the dishes and cared for our animals.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were a couple times that reminded me that I am getting older.  In sitting down to dinner with my son and his lovely wife, it reminded me of when I was in my 30's and sat at the table with my husband and his mother.  They don't correct me even though I may be way off base with my thinking.  They may discuss it between themselves but are polite enough to let me rant at whatever the current topic is. I don't want to be known as a "character" but there are times I'm sure that people think I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My granddaughter had asked for help with organizing her room and then as we went through her clothes...she reminded me so much of her great grandmother.  She recalled when she was given an article of clothing and by whom and when.  She told me of the significance of that article of clothing and why she couldn't give it to Goodwill or throw it away. Never mind that it is now 3 sizes too big or too small, ripped, stained and unwearable. I had to laugh - the genes were there - just lying dormant.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister-in-law, whom I love like a sister, and I discussed how tired we are of housework.  We've been doing it all our lives and are ready to quit, to retire from daily sweeping, dusting, etc..  With the influence of gramma in our lives, we are slowly giving away items that require dusting and we are death on paper clutter. I think we are agreed that there are better things to do in life than clean every day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to my kids, I am giving you ample warning that the time may come when my house may not be up to your expectations.  BUT, feel free to come and clean it for me....I won't complain and I'll be glad to see you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114950856578140684?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114950856578140684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114950856578140684&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114950856578140684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114950856578140684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/06/back-to-normal.html' title='Back to normal'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114796151551991409</id><published>2006-05-18T08:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T09:11:55.560-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Coasterphobic</title><content type='html'>In chatting with my granddaughter today, who is off for a day of fun at the local waterpark, I remembered my fear of roller coasters.  Currently called &lt;a href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/articles/pto-19990501-000037.html"&gt;Coasterphobic&lt;/a&gt; by the experts - it means a fear of falling, a fear of being out of control. People like me are the people who sheepishly hold your pocketbooks and the coats. We are the bench warmers. We are the coaster chickens. We are the white-knuckled, weak-kneed wimps who are looked upon with pity by those waiting in line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I this way?  When I was a young girl, about 13, my mother and I and my younger siblings went to Cincinnati to see the zoo. Somewhere during that trip there were rides and I wanted to ride the Mickey Mouse wooden roller coaster.  I had never been on a ride in a fair and that looked like the most fun to my immature eyes.  Well, by the time I got off I was terrified and swore I'd never, ever again get on anything resembling that!!  And I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UNTIL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A trip with my family to Disney World.  Sonny was just a young lad then, tall enough to get onto Space Mountain.  He didn't want to go with CD and Nelle as much as they tried to talk him into it.  I didn't want to go.  My palms were sweating, but as a mother - sometimes you do things to show your children how not to be frightened.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I told Sonny, I'll go if you will.  And it was agreed.  DAMN.  Where did they put this wimpy woman with coasterphobia?  Front car, front seat.  NOTHING IN FRONT OF ME!!  NOTHING!!!!!!   Scared the bejesus out of me!  Ever wonder where my hair finished turning white?  It was on Space Mountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And again I swore never to ride on one of those things again.  So what happened?  The family took a trip to Busch Gardens.  Ever rode the "Lipton Tea Plunge"??  They didn't tell me what that ride was about!!!  Every one of them was in on the secret, except me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoopee, wheeeeeee they yell... as it goes over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wheeeeeee my ass!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114796151551991409?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114796151551991409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114796151551991409&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114796151551991409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114796151551991409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/05/coasterphobic.html' title='Coasterphobic'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114787204365996038</id><published>2006-05-17T08:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-17T08:22:23.970-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Women's Life - 1899</title><content type='html'>As you may know, I dabble in genealogy and as a result, review many old newspaper throughout the midwest.  This was found in the Allen County (Ohio) Democrat - 1899 taken from Women's Life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why it is absolutely necessary for Women to come in frequent contact with others.&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a woman is to protect herself from the ravages of worry, and to retain her youth for a longer period, she must come into more frequent contact with other people - as her husband does - and read good books; she must relieve the monotony of her duties and the limiting influence of confinement within four walls by taking outdoor exercise --a walk every day, or a spin on the bicyle; in short, she must exercise the body and mind in a healthful manner, and she will find the bloom of youth and health remain with her for years after it has faded in other women of the same age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The ordinary woman," says a celebrated physician, "leads such a monotonous esistence that her mind has no occupation but worry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What she needs is to come out of herself much more than she does.  She must have intercourse with more people and take more exercise."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This she can do without neglecting home, and every right-minded man will do his best to secure for his mother, or his sister, or his wife, these aids to the retention of youthfulness of body and mind".&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if they knew what letting women out of the house to exercise and have more communication with the outside world would lead to just 20 short years later?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In August of 1920, the 19th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution was finally ratified, allowing women to vote.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114787204365996038?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114787204365996038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114787204365996038&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114787204365996038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114787204365996038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/05/womens-life-1899.html' title='Women&apos;s Life - 1899'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114743229803937949</id><published>2006-05-12T06:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-12T06:12:11.853-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Animated music</title><content type='html'>I received this today, it is so cute.  PS:  Turn up the sound!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-5503582578132361295&amp;q=animusic"&gt;animusic&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114743229803937949?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114743229803937949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114743229803937949&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114743229803937949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114743229803937949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/05/animated-music.html' title='Animated music'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114736432563407659</id><published>2006-05-11T10:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T11:22:09.176-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Large TYPE</title><content type='html'>I know you can't see it but I recently increased the size of the font I read on the computer to LARGE.  I kept getting a crick in my neck from trying to see the small print on the screen through the bottom of my progressive biofrigging lenses.  Finally I thought enough was enough.  BUT I HATE large print in my novels.  That type of book is only going to be enjoyable for an hour or two. Harlequin Romances are out! I want a big tome-like novel that will keep me engrossed for a couple of days, one anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in junior high school, I was in a test class for reading.  They would lock us in a dark room for an hour and we would read from the wall.  They would take a line in a book, flip it up on the wall for a minute and on and on until you read the entire thing.  Then we would take a test to see what our comprehension level was.  As we got better they were flipping the words on the screen one at a time as fast as it could go.  As a result, I read like an Evelyn Wood graduate.  I can also enjoy a book two or three times because when you read fast you skip over the mundane items.  By reading it again, you pick up things that you missed the first or second time.  It makes this particular hobby a little cheaper too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The price of books is incredible.  Bought one lately?  $6.99 for the small Large Print book, at least $7.99 for a regular size one.  I recently purchased Volume III of a series I am reading by George R. R. Martin (A Song of Fire and Ice)and it was $7.99; they suckered you in by offering a reprint of his Volume I for $3.50. I expect Volume IV  when it comes out to be $8.99. But then I just heard that the publishers took Volume IV and cut it in half to keep the price down.  I think I'd rather pay $8.99 than $6.99 for Volume IV and $6.99 for Volume V...seems like they are cheating somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another author just purchased for the first time, Tad Williams, his book "Otherland" Volume I was a cool $8.50.  So he is on my list for the next trip to the book store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily I have my Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series to reread and also my other favorite, Terry Gookind's Sword of Truth series.  There is enough meat in those books to keep me busy for a while.  And when I get tired of this type of fantasy there is always Christine Feehan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a safe day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114736432563407659?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114736432563407659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114736432563407659&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114736432563407659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114736432563407659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/05/large-type.html' title='Large TYPE'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114720894583371886</id><published>2006-05-09T15:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T16:09:05.853-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gonna live!</title><content type='html'>So I went to my doctor yesterday and she tells me I'm healthy as a horse for my age.  Take a bone density test and the answer is average, for your age.  Problems with blood pressure and cholesterol are due to your age.  What's up with that?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been doing some genealogy again.  I had let it slide for a while but am feeling the need to get the facts I have in order.  I'm trying to get a book done for my Dad but somehow there are not enough hours in the day anymore.  If you want a copy let me know I'll print out an extra.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being retired I should not need a calendar but find it is more important than ever.  I used to have a mind like a steel trap, but now it is a bit rusted and leaky. I find that if I don't write things down I'm a day late and a dollar short when they are due.  That must be due to my age, too!!  So as of today my calendar is up to date, all important information such as doctor and dentist appointments are listed, and my grandchildren's birthdays too.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister-in-law and I have a date later this month to clean Grandma's house of years of clutter.  It must be on my mind because as I've been cleaning my house, I've picked up several things in closets and hidden places and put them in a box.  The Shriner's have an annual yard sale in June and we have a good neighbor that belongs to them.  I've told him to stop by one day on his way there and I've got several things for them.  Twofold purpose....gets them out of my house and helps out the children..it works for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Update on Joe Beegle.  He is doing great.  He thinks he has been let out of prison sine he got that collar off and he is as frisky as a pup.  So it looks like they ended up doing a good job even if it took them a while to get it straight.  He'll have a new vet when he has to go for shots or whatever, we're done with that place.  Cousin Sue's dog had the same operation on his foot and it cost her $150 at the vet in town.  It cost us $500 just for the foot, never mind the ear.  The price of living on the beach is ridiculous - so I'll drive over the bridge next time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114720894583371886?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114720894583371886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114720894583371886&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114720894583371886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114720894583371886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/05/gonna-live.html' title='Gonna live!'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114675576913585415</id><published>2006-05-04T10:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T10:16:09.150-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kissable face</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6365/455/1600/Steve%20face%20small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6365/455/200/Steve%20face%20small.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was looking at pictures of my grandchildren today and they are all so cute!!  J is becoming a beautiful woman and the men of the world should watch out!!  S and O are adorable.  Here's their CD and he is what made them so kissable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114675576913585415?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114675576913585415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114675576913585415&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114675576913585415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114675576913585415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/05/kissable-face.html' title='Kissable face'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114666072127660338</id><published>2006-05-03T06:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T07:52:01.303-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Patio dress vs Muumuus</title><content type='html'>1.If a person says the word "muumuu" to you what is the first image you see?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.If a person says the word "duster" to you what is the first image you see?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.If a person says the word "caftan" to you what is the first image you see?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.If a person says the word "patio dress" to you what is the first image you see?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I see&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Grandma when visiting other people, goes into her room after dinner and changes into her muumuu.  When she does that you know you are in trouble because she is now comfortable and prepared to talk &lt;em&gt;(more, sometimes for hours)!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. My mother putting her duster when she gets up in the morning. Then she prepares breakfast, starts laundry, and does her daily chores before her bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Me. Home from work, take a shower and don't want to dirty any more clothing when I'll be putting my pj's on in a couple hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. My daughter.  Wait, nope, that image goes fuzzy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I writing about this?  Well let me tell you. Last year my lovely daughter, J, bought me a "&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amerimark.com/cgi-bin/amerimark/cate_id/appllwclm/prod/56178/item_detail.html?keywords=&amp;srcmode=&amp;sortbyprice="&gt;caftan&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;" to wear after my shower so that when I am on my patio I look dressed.  When Our neighbor looks over the fence  (as he often does when he hears us talking), I appear dressed. And if the doorbell rings, I can answer it and appear dressed.   I love my caftan and can be seen floating about my backyard in blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem is with the Widows Club.  They wear &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nursinghomeapparel.com/shop/product292.html"&gt;Muu-Muus&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; that look suspiciously like my caftan.  Now a muu-muu is fine in the over-70 women's wear section.  I don't want to look like the Widows Club. I may be over 50, &lt;em&gt;ok ok over 55&lt;/em&gt;, but I am a youngster compared to them.  For the 10 days they were here, my caftan was in my closet - I didn't want CD to do any comparisons between my caftan and their muumuu's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today in the newspaper is an advertisement for &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amerimark.com/cgi-bin/amerimark/cate_id/appllwphd/prod/56254/item_detail.html?keywords=&amp;srcmode=&amp;sortbyprice="&gt;Patio Dresses&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.  Same general idea as the muu-muu but the marketeers have discovered that muu-muu has a negative trailer park grandma meaning. So they changed the name to appeal to the younger generation, that's you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem is I see that the younger generation change into a t-shirt and boxers or comfortable knit bottoms. This is their pajamas.  They are comfortable and ready to bed or pop out to the local convenience store for ice cream.  They don't do dresses of any type.  Of course, my experience is limited, mind you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm curious, would you buy a Patio dress?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Reminder:&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who wait until the last day to buy your Mother's Day card, the time to shop is now.  Mother's Day is Sunday, May 14th.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114666072127660338?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114666072127660338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114666072127660338&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114666072127660338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114666072127660338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/05/patio-dress-vs-muumuus.html' title='Patio dress vs Muumuus'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114622184518543892</id><published>2006-04-28T05:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T06:34:21.256-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yakur</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/100_0229.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/200/100_0229.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I care about your cataracts?  Where's lunch?!&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114622184518543892?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114622184518543892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114622184518543892&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114622184518543892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114622184518543892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/04/yakur.html' title='Yakur'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114622173131614589</id><published>2006-04-28T05:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T06:33:31.440-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Babu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/100_0211.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/200/100_0211.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why, yes, I have trouble with my bowels too!,&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114622173131614589?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114622173131614589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114622173131614589&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114622173131614589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114622173131614589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/04/babu.html' title='Babu'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114622144216393108</id><published>2006-04-28T05:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T05:51:56.203-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pierre</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/100_0208.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/200/100_0208.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG, don't they ever shut up?.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114622144216393108?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114622144216393108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114622144216393108&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114622144216393108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114622144216393108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/04/pierre.html' title='Pierre'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114622123974524816</id><published>2006-04-28T05:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T06:32:22.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Maya</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/100_0224.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/200/100_0224.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I in here, they are the ones talking?&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114622123974524816?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114622123974524816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114622123974524816&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114622123974524816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114622123974524816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/04/maya.html' title='Maya'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114622103912898568</id><published>2006-04-28T05:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T05:49:35.553-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Widows Club</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/100_0243.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/200/100_0243.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Widows Club.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Widows Club went to the zoo yesterday.  I think the wrong animals were in the cages.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114622103912898568?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114622103912898568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114622103912898568&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114622103912898568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114622103912898568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/04/widows-club.html' title='The Widows Club'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114565762190513218</id><published>2006-04-21T10:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-21T17:13:41.986-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Benefits of Aging</title><content type='html'>As you know I have the &lt;strong&gt;Widows Club&lt;/strong&gt; visiting for the next 10 days.  While they are here, I am getting lessons in the benefits of aging and I will share them with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Even though you have known someone for 70 years, your memory is not quite what it used to be and you can still discuss why you named your 57-year-old son what you did and your friend will think it is interesting.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Your hearing is not what it used to be so if you talk over each other all the time you don't care.  It just drives everyone listening to you nuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Bowel movements are IMPORTANT and an appropriate breakfast topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Your deceased hubby(ies) was the greatest man on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114565762190513218?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114565762190513218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114565762190513218&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114565762190513218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114565762190513218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/04/benefits-of-aging.html' title='Benefits of Aging'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114545126173250498</id><published>2006-04-19T07:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T07:54:21.843-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cousin Billy out</title><content type='html'>As of the 27th of this month we will no longer be able to say we have a relative in government.  Cousin Billy is serving the last few days of his second term so he could not run again.  Geez, that would have come in handy in case of a ticket in PCB.  Of course, now I can tell the neighborhood police that my hubby is gonna let their plumbing back up into the house.  [&lt;em&gt;Knocking loudly on wood&lt;/em&gt;] Not that I have ever gotten a ticket or even stopped for that matter, unlike &lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;some&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt; I could mention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The zoo is hopping due to the media exposure to Tondalayo and TK. Not to mention that the Miracle Strip Amusement Park is gone forever and Shipwreck Water Park don't open until next month.  Goofy Golf parks are disappearing like mad, but hey, we have condos wall to wall.  CD even took a look at Tondalayo and TK the other day when he came in to fix our phones.  I have never worked this many hours in the two years I've been there.  So that's why I'm missing in action now and then in case you were wondering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CD's godmother is here and Grandma will come in tomorrow.  Joy. How long until the 30th??  Of course, my fav sis-in-law is coming in for the weekend - I'll be glad to see HER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for Joe Beegle, he is still a conehead!  But I did take it off for a while yesterday while I gave him a bath.  Phew but male dogs stink!  He will not leave his paw alone so I had to put the cone on him. It is healing nicely and his ear is great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helpful site of the day:  Yahoo Groups has a group called &lt;a href="http://www.freecycle.org/"&gt;Free Cycle.&lt;/a&gt;  The way it works is that you can list something you want to get rid of and someone who needs it will come and pick it up.  Or you can list something you need and if someone wants to get rid of it, they'll tell you.  I belong to the group here and it is fun to watch.  I will warn you that if you live in a large metropolitan area, get ready to read!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114545126173250498?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114545126173250498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114545126173250498&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114545126173250498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114545126173250498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/04/cousin-billy-out.html' title='Cousin Billy out'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114495229789926451</id><published>2006-04-13T13:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T13:18:17.913-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Morning</title><content type='html'>Things are definitely looking up on the beach.  Our first "Tuesday Morning" just opened up.  I've been in the twice in the last two days and haven't been in Wally Mart since.  I love it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114495229789926451?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114495229789926451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114495229789926451&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114495229789926451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114495229789926451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/04/tuesday-morning.html' title='Tuesday Morning'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114485541273042229</id><published>2006-04-12T10:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T10:28:11.406-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SPRING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/Pink%20Begonia.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/200/Pink%20Begonia.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pink Begonia&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love spring!!  The grass is green and the flowers are blooming.  Here is a picture of a pink begonia that is just blooming it's little heart out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On another note:  GO, KELLIE PICKLER!!!!  YOU ARE MY VOTE FOR BESTEST LAST NIGHT. "BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY" by Queen....who would have thunk it?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114485541273042229?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114485541273042229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114485541273042229&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114485541273042229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114485541273042229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/04/spring.html' title='SPRING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114470518190930990</id><published>2006-04-10T15:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T16:39:41.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I like your grill</title><content type='html'>Have you heard this lately?  Apparently it is a new way of saying &lt;a href="http://www.thesource4ym.com/teenlingo/"&gt;teeth &lt;/a&gt;.  It's bad enough when your significant other comes home and says something about a co-worker's grill and you are so confused because you are thinking he is talking about his car.  But when it is the headline in the local Wahoo newspaper, something is wrong. A newspaper should always use proper English unless they are quoting someone. Someone correct me if I am wrong but isn't a grill/e something to cook your barbecue on or the front of an automobile?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the waterfront, "see Spring Break continued" - another person dies this weekend in the Gulf while the red flags are a-flying.  We were under a tornado/severe weather watch at the time.  Not that we got any rain or anything else, but the warnings were out.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Joe Beegle is feeling better and his wounds are looking better.  He was a little disheartened today when a new "girl" in the neighborhood wouldn't let him smell her because of his cone.  Even seen a dog heart-broken?  Ah, well, "Suzie" will be around a week from now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frazier is on a new diet and is not too happy.  After stopping the egg-laying this season, I have put him on a new diet consisting of pellets.  No treats, no people food, only pellets.  Only took two days to get him to eat them...I was prepared to wait three.  I had recently seen a parrot his age and Frazier looked terrible compared to that one. HE had plucked feathers from his legs and breast to prepare a nest and is looking generally worn.  After a few conversations with that's parrot's professional trainer I decided it was time to do something, hence the pellets.  I'll let you know how he is looking after a couple weeks.  If you are considering switching your pets diet, the magic length of time is 3 days.  After all, "it all depends on how hungry they are."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(For those of you now totally confused, we thought for 16 years that Frazier was a boy.  But, no - the first egg appeared two years ago.  Habit still has me referring to her as him.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114470518190930990?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114470518190930990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114470518190930990&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114470518190930990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114470518190930990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-like-your-grill.html' title='I like your grill'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114451222693860573</id><published>2006-04-08T11:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-08T11:06:27.650-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Count me not</title><content type='html'>I think I added a counter.  Let's go see.  (PS, it is at the bottom)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114451222693860573?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114451222693860573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114451222693860573&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114451222693860573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114451222693860573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/04/count-me-not.html' title='Count me not'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114441646351499649</id><published>2006-04-07T08:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-07T08:27:43.550-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Frazzled</title><content type='html'>Have you ever seen a person wore to a frazzle?  Well, you haven't see me lately.  Joe Beegle is driving me to distraction.  With the larger, longer cone he cannot reach his foot but he keeps trying too.  Every five minutes I hear him licking the cone as if he could reach those damn stitches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A quick visit to the vet today for a bandage check on foot and ear reveals that they cannot keep the bandages on any longer.  Things will go from bad to worse if the wounds do not receive some air.  So his stitches are bare and now I have to worry about him getting to them if by some means he tricks that cone into doing what he wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He can't see a damn thing and is constantly bumping into walls, furniture, legs, or whatever else is around him.  It is getting old but he has at least another week before the stitches come out and the cone comes off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114441646351499649?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114441646351499649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114441646351499649&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114441646351499649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114441646351499649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/04/frazzled.html' title='Frazzled'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114406662054885900</id><published>2006-04-03T07:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T07:27:36.090-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Who are you calling Conehead??</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Just because I can't walk good with 50 pounds of wrapping on my foot, geez! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because my foot and ear itches like crazy, geez! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because I ate the wrapping, tore out the drain and took out a couple of stitches, geez!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because there is blood on the carpet in J's room, geez! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, just because I was scratching my ear making it all bloody all over HER bedroom carpet and she was on her hands and knees cursing a blue streak, geez! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because the surgeries cost almost $700 and I'm undoing them, geez.&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/Conehead.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/200/Conehead.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conehead&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114406662054885900?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114406662054885900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114406662054885900&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114406662054885900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114406662054885900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/04/who-are-you-calling-conehead.html' title='Who are you calling Conehead??'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114367550938671913</id><published>2006-03-29T17:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T17:38:29.413-06:00</updated><title type='text'>You've seen Joe before, here is after</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6365/455/1600/After.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6365/455/320/After.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe Beegle had to have surgery today.  He had a quarter-size tumor on his right front paw. We won't know for a while if it is cancerous or not.  Then, we discovered a huge lump on his left ear so he had to have that removed too. It was an   &lt;a href="http://www.thepetcenter.com/sur/hema.html"&gt;Aural Hematoma&lt;/a&gt;, which is an any abnormal blood filled space.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Joe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114367550938671913?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114367550938671913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114367550938671913&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114367550938671913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114367550938671913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/03/youve-seen-joe-before-here-is-after.html' title='You&apos;ve seen Joe before, here is after'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114321210535659744</id><published>2006-03-24T08:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T09:05:27.480-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Talking head</title><content type='html'>Our green friend is getting a little perturbed at all the attention you-know-who is getting. So in order to smooth ruffled feathers, here you go, The Talking Head himself, er, herself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/Frazier%202006.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/200/Frazier%202006.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking head&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114321210535659744?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114321210535659744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114321210535659744&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114321210535659744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114321210535659744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/03/talking-head.html' title='Talking head'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114320756382040426</id><published>2006-03-24T06:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T07:39:23.863-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Break continued</title><content type='html'>Further developments in the Spring Break capital of the world.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;First a little background information: The city has adopted a new flag warning system at some cost because the basic flag warning system (green-swim, yellow=swim with caution, red=don't swim) wasn't working.  We still had people drowning in a rough sea.  So the new flag warning system, including signs placed all over the beach and in hotels, is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two red flags - Water closed to public (should be read as THIS MEANS YOU!!)&lt;br /&gt;One red flag  - High Hazard (high surf and strong currents)&lt;br /&gt;Orange flag - Medium Hazard (moderate surf and/or currents)&lt;br /&gt;Green flag - Low Hazard ( Calm conditions, exercise caution)&lt;br /&gt;Purple flag - Dangerous Marine Life (should be read as SHARK!!)&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Local headlines courtesy of &lt;a href="http://www.wjhg.com/"&gt;WJHG&lt;/a&gt; News Station 7.  "One drowned and five others rescued from the Gulf in a one-hour time frame Tuesday afternoon".   Swimmer dies after being caught in a riptide.  A bunch of drunk college students went swimming off of La Vela nightclub.  One couldn't make it back into shore.  Listen up, people, those flags are flying for a reason and not just because they're pretty waving in the breeze.  ONE red flag means that you are risking your life to go past your ankles. TWO red flags mean go out there and you will die.  Moral of the story:  We cannot protect people from themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and heard from the horse's mouth:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A nationally syndicated show who match people up for a blind date refuses to come here because the college students are "too intoxicated" to put in a limo and driven to the zoo for their date.  Insurance companies scream about things like this because of problems in the past.  Moral of the story:  These are our future leaders?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and restaurants get in the act:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hammerhead Fred's a well known local restaurant sponsors a wet t-shirt contest out in their Spring Break tent.  The announcers are three men in their late 30s' and they encourage female contestants to take off their wet t-shirts and have their nipples fondled by others in the crowd, male and female.  These are 17 to 23 yr old girls.  Moral of the story:  How are they going to feel when THEIR daughter gets  hold of this information and 17 years from now she wants to go on Spring Break?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I'm sure there is more to come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114320756382040426?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114320756382040426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114320756382040426&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114320756382040426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114320756382040426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/03/spring-break-continued.html' title='Spring Break continued'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114303004400454698</id><published>2006-03-22T06:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T06:20:44.060-06:00</updated><title type='text'>American Idol - 3/21</title><content type='html'>Wow, the boys were hot tonight singing oldie-goldies.  Did you watch it?  Did you hear Chris Daughtery??????  Man, he can sing!!  And to take an old favorite like Johnny Cash's &lt;u&gt;I Walk the Line&lt;/u&gt; and turn it into an alternative music sound was absolutely great!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;My top four this week are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Chris Daughtry - I Walk the Line - Johnny Cash&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Elliott Yamin - Teach Me Tonight - Al Jarreau&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Taylor Hicks - Not Fade Away - Buddy Holly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Kelly Pickler - Walking After Midnight - Patsy Cline&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(sorry, Mandisa...I didn't like your choice)&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the one that needs to pack his bags could either be:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ace Young - In the Still of the Night - Five Satins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bucky Covington - Oh Boy - Buddy Holly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a first for us that we actually watched the show.  Luckily we taped it too just in case someone fell asleep so we can watch Chris again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114303004400454698?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114303004400454698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114303004400454698&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114303004400454698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114303004400454698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/03/american-idol-321.html' title='American Idol - 3/21'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114287624446716527</id><published>2006-03-20T11:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-20T11:37:24.470-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New species of flowers</title><content type='html'>I have discovered new species of flowers.  Not just your old run-of-the-mill flowers that you plant, but brand spanking new ones.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you try to grow grass you know what I am talking about.  These new flowers grow faster than the grass and can displace the grass in a month.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to just let the whole damn yard get covered in dandelions, and those little pretty pink flower weeds. This way we'll be ecologically correct.  Not herbacides, weedacides, fertilizer and other harmful products.  Full steam ahead, mother nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, by the end of the month I won't be able to breathe for all the allergents in the air.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114287624446716527?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114287624446716527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114287624446716527&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114287624446716527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114287624446716527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/03/new-species-of-flowers.html' title='New species of flowers'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114287589511470609</id><published>2006-03-20T11:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-20T11:31:35.116-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mail</title><content type='html'>I have been viewing the different mail programs that come with about any program you enter today.  I have Outlook, MSN, Yahoo and the latest that comes with AOL Instant Messenger is AIMmail.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Outlook Express.  The problem is that you cannot access it if you are not sitting at your computer.  That sucks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MSN is ok but I see a lot of spam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yahoo is plain vanilla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AIM Mail is ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there anything better out there?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114287589511470609?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114287589511470609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114287589511470609&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114287589511470609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114287589511470609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/03/mail.html' title='Mail'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114287510037347391</id><published>2006-03-20T11:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-20T11:22:16.520-06:00</updated><title type='text'>FEED ME, SEYMOUR</title><content type='html'>Why is there never a computer nerd around when you need them?  Took me hours this morning to hook up my digicam to my computer.  Why do they give you 3 cords when you only need one?  And then, from my lovely d-i-l I got a new photo program that I am trying to learn to use.  Joe Beegle is my test subject.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/100_0118.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/200/100_0118.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will feed me treats. You will feed me treats.  You will feed me treats, NOW!&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114287510037347391?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114287510037347391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114287510037347391&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114287510037347391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114287510037347391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/03/feed-me-seymour.html' title='FEED ME, SEYMOUR'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114243127396698877</id><published>2006-03-15T08:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-15T08:24:13.206-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Joe Beegle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/Joe%20Beegle%2001.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/200/Joe%20Beegle%2001.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe Beegle&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114243127396698877?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114243127396698877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114243127396698877&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114243127396698877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114243127396698877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/03/joe-beegle.html' title='Joe Beegle'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114211773200672222</id><published>2006-03-11T16:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-11T16:56:24.640-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Very Sad News</title><content type='html'>With all the sadness and trauma going on in&lt;br /&gt;the world at the moment, it is worth reflecting on&lt;br /&gt;the death of a very important person, which&lt;br /&gt;almost went unnoticed last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Larry LaPrise, the man who wrote the song,&lt;br /&gt;"Hokey Pokey", died peacefully at the age of 93.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most traumatic part for his family was getting&lt;br /&gt;him into the coffin.  They put his left leg in,&lt;br /&gt;and then the trouble started....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114211773200672222?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114211773200672222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114211773200672222&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114211773200672222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114211773200672222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/03/very-sad-news.html' title='Very Sad News'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114194404977255703</id><published>2006-03-09T16:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T16:47:58.836-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and Fluffy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/MeandFluffy.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/200/MeandFluffy.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and Fluffy&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a picture of me and Fluffy at the beach Wally Mart raising money for the zoo by selling pictures with one of the animals and discount admission tickets.  Plus the free advertising we enjoy just standing in front of the nation's busiest Wally Mart this time of year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never knew I was a snake charmer, did you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114194404977255703?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114194404977255703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114194404977255703&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114194404977255703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114194404977255703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/03/me-and-fluffy.html' title='Me and Fluffy'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114191692609747457</id><published>2006-03-09T09:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T09:08:46.146-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tondalayo and TK</title><content type='html'>Want to start your day off with a smile?  Check out &lt;a href="http://photos.emeraldcoast.com/nherald.showalbum.db.php?aID=105&amp;pNum=0"&gt;Tondalayo and T.K.&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114191692609747457?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114191692609747457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114191692609747457&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114191692609747457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114191692609747457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/03/tondalayo-and-tk.html' title='Tondalayo and TK'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114125178425714165</id><published>2006-03-01T16:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T16:23:04.303-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Laughter is contagious!</title><content type='html'>Has someone tried to tell you a story, or a joke, but couldn't get to the punchline because they are laughing too hard??  CD tried to tell me about a conversation he was involved in at lunch...took him ten minutes to get to the end of the story and I ended up laughing at him laughing..  If you know CD, you know there is not much that will crack him up like an idiot, but this did. It was really not a funny statement, but something about the way the guy said it almost sent him to the funny farm.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do we laugh when others are out of control with laughter?  It is almost impossible for me to keep a straight face when someone is laughing so hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114125178425714165?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114125178425714165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114125178425714165&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114125178425714165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114125178425714165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/03/laughter-is-contagious.html' title='Laughter is contagious!'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114090470408723924</id><published>2006-02-25T15:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-25T16:10:14.626-06:00</updated><title type='text'>How much is your home worth?</title><content type='html'>Check it out at &lt;a href="http://www.zillow.com/"&gt;Zillow&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a site I saw on &lt;a href="http://hellskitchennyc.blogspot.com/"&gt;Postcards from Hell's Kitchen&lt;/a&gt; blog.  It's very interesting as you can see your home on satellite and what homes around your neighborhood have sold for lately.  And, for you Starbuck lovers, Mr. H.K. talks about them today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114090470408723924?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114090470408723924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114090470408723924&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114090470408723924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114090470408723924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/02/how-much-is-your-home-worth.html' title='How much is your home worth?'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114070872159246256</id><published>2006-02-23T08:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-23T09:32:04.323-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Old Women</title><content type='html'>Have you ever tried to get three women over the age of 75 together at the same time and at the same place and all by telephone?  If you haven't, stop right there and let someone else do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most popular excuses of why that particular day doesn't work:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I have a doctor's appointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I have to feed the cats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I have to go to church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I can't because the city is paving my street and I can't get out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I have a hair appointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I don't want to leave my comfort zone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I'd love to but... I have constipation or I have the runs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I have to fluff my shower cap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I'm trying to see how long I can go without saying yes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114070872159246256?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114070872159246256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114070872159246256&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114070872159246256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114070872159246256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/02/three-old-women.html' title='Three Old Women'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114070633715202501</id><published>2006-02-23T08:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-23T08:53:12.623-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A penny saved is a penny earned</title><content type='html'>How well do you know your pennies?  I have jars full of them and still don't know what they look like.  Try your hand &lt;a href="http://www.exploratorium.edu/exhibits/common_cents/index.html"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114070633715202501?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114070633715202501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114070633715202501&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114070633715202501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114070633715202501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/02/penny-saved-is-penny-earned.html' title='A penny saved is a penny earned'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-114004451047251718</id><published>2006-02-15T16:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-15T17:01:50.520-06:00</updated><title type='text'>We need an army</title><content type='html'>to eat all the food that makes it way to my table each day.  20 pounds of beef stew sit stewing in the fridge wondering when someone is going to come along and take another scoop.  10 pounds of skirt steak has made it's way onto the barbie and will take it's place alongside the beef stew tonight.  We even have a couple of burgers waiting their turn on the barbie so I can enjoy one for lunch tomorrow.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would think, since there has only been two people in this house for four years now with occasional visitors, that the master chef would learn to curb his tendency to cook for that ficitional army he sees looming on the horizon.  And you would think he would learn that most of us can no longer eat the way we did when we were younger.  But no - we'll have leftovers waiting until that damn army arrives.  But will he want to heat them up?  Nope.  He'll want to make fresh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on the subject of leftovers.  Some of you, not to mention any names, thinks the fridge will keep your food fresh until you get tired of eating it - or until it turns green.  Not so!!  In my house the rule is 3 days and out you go.  If you are plain meat, you get a one day reprieve because Joe Beegle can chow down on you on the 4th day.  Think I'm nuts??  Read &lt;a href="http://www.fsis.usda.gov/Fact_Sheets/Basics_for_Handling_Food_Safely/index.asp"&gt;this.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-114004451047251718?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/114004451047251718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=114004451047251718&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114004451047251718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/114004451047251718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/02/we-need-army.html' title='We need an army'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-113934729499566715</id><published>2006-02-07T15:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T15:21:35.013-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A birthday song</title><content type='html'>Today just the lyrics from one of my favorite songs for my daughter, Nelle.  Happy Birthday, honey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I hope you never lose your sense of wonder &lt;br /&gt;You get your fill to eat &lt;br /&gt;But always keep that hunger &lt;br /&gt;May you never take one single breath for granted &lt;br /&gt;God forbid love ever leave you empty handed &lt;br /&gt;I hope you still feel small &lt;br /&gt;When you stand by the ocean &lt;br /&gt;Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens &lt;br /&gt;Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance &lt;br /&gt;I hope you dance &lt;br /&gt;I hope you dance &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance &lt;br /&gt;Never settle for the path of least resistance &lt;br /&gt;Living might mean taking chances &lt;br /&gt;But they're worth taking &lt;br /&gt;Lovin' might be a mistake &lt;br /&gt;But it's worth making &lt;br /&gt;Don't let some hell bent heart &lt;br /&gt;Leave you bitter &lt;br /&gt;When you come close to selling out &lt;br /&gt;Reconsider &lt;br /&gt;Give the heavens above &lt;br /&gt;More than just a passing glance &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me who wants to look back on their youth and wonder Where those years have gone&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you, Mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS:  Thank you, LeAnn Womack&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-113934729499566715?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/113934729499566715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=113934729499566715&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113934729499566715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113934729499566715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/02/birthday-song.html' title='A birthday song'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-113923876868995522</id><published>2006-02-06T08:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T09:12:48.776-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Super Bowl XL [Extra Large] Commercials</title><content type='html'>and my vote goes to Budweiser!!  Again!!  Budweiser always has those "tug-at-your-heart" commercials and this year was no exception.....!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were two that I loved!  I think they had about ten total, but these two were special.  You can see them &lt;a href="http://www.budweiser.com/"&gt;here &lt;/a&gt; if you had to take a potty break while they were on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Clydesdale American Dream (starring a 5 month old Clydesdale colt)&lt;br /&gt;-Super Fan (starring a streaking sheep)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also enjoyed the Hummer Monster commercial starring a Godzilla clone and a robot.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is funny to note that all year we tape, tape, tape all the shows we like to watch because you can fast forward all the commercials.  If you tape a one-hour show like 24, you only need 40-42 minutes to view it.  So in an hour and a half, I can watch two shows, if I like.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But during the Super Bowl, I am more interested in the commercials than the game any time Miami is not playing, which is most of the time.  I will take my potty break, ciggie break, drink break, etc....during the game.  When the commercials are on you can't drag me away.  I might miss a good one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-113923876868995522?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/113923876868995522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=113923876868995522&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113923876868995522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113923876868995522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/02/super-bowl-xl-extra-large-commercials.html' title='Super Bowl XL [Extra Large] Commercials'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-113897251032472686</id><published>2006-02-03T07:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T07:15:49.933-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's the stork</title><content type='html'>All this talk about the way life began is making me crazy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....and the arguments are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creationism or creation theology is the belief that humans, life, the Earth, and the universe were created by a supreme being or deity's supernatural intervention. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evolution is the process by which populations of organisms acquire and pass on novel traits from generation to generation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intelligent Design (ID) is the concept that "certain features of the universe and of living things are best explained by an intelligent cause, not an undirected process such as natural selection."[&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natural Selection is the metaphor Charles Darwin used in 1859 to name the process he postulated to drive the adaptation of organisms to their environments and the origin of new species.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, my mama told me that the stork brought babies so therefore they are responsible.  Or were they found under the cabbage leaf? Or was it a gift someone left on the doorstep?  I'm so confused.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-113897251032472686?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/113897251032472686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=113897251032472686&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113897251032472686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113897251032472686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/02/its-stork.html' title='It&apos;s the stork'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-113888380610226104</id><published>2006-02-02T05:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-02T06:36:46.193-06:00</updated><title type='text'>AAAH, OUCH, OUCH - AAAaaahhh</title><content type='html'>I did come home eventually after spending five hours being pampered like royalty - hot tea, Evian water, unbelievable scents and lotions.  Aaah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first went in, I was led to a dimly lit brown room with a massage table and told to remove all my clothing (if I wanted I could leave my panties on) and lie on the table face down, then the masseuse would be in.  So I thought what the hell, when in France, so I peeled down to my birthday suit and hopped on the table.  Did I say table?  Not so!  It was an extremely well-padded bed that was heated.  Yes, heated. I was covered by a small light blanket and a heavy velvet blanket, I felt like a newborn babe in swaddling*. There was light relaxing music wafting about my head.  AAAh.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the masseuse came in and asked if I had ever had a massage before.  Nope, this is my first time.  She says to tell her if anything hurts and she'll ease up and off we go.  First she removes the blankets from my back and places hot stones on my back to loosen the muscles as she works on my legs and feet.  The hot stones were just short of burning, but did that ever feel good!  She massaged my feet and legs and I almost fell asleep.  Then she covers them back up and proceeds to remove those hot stones.  She massaged and massaged and then pain.  OUCH.  Not bad, she says, not bad at all.  OUCH.  Not bad for who??  She pummeled and twisted and kneaded like she was making fresh bread....OUCH.  OUCH.  OUCH.  Then she got more lotion that got warm and she made everything feel better.  AAAH.  Then I turned over and she worked on the front side of legs and thighs and arms and neck.  When she was done, I felt like a limp noodle.  She let me lie there covered up to my neck in the warm blankets for about 10 minutes.....then I was given a thick terry cloth bathrobe and was off for a facial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smoothing lotions, hot towels, hot steam, another warm bed, soothing music....by this time, I was in heaven.  If you've ever had a facial or even a shave followed by a hot towel, you know the feeling.  AAAH.  And, she told me I had excellent skin for my age.  [I could have done without the "my age" bit, but what the hell, I'll take a compliment any old way.]  After the facial was done, she massaged my neck and shoulders again, gently.  AAAH.  Followed by another 10 minute period wrapped in swaddling clothes and drifting on the music, and I was on my way for a pedicure.  AAAH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had pedicures before where they use a razor to get the dead stuff off.  This is the first time I've seen them use a stone to get it off. A cute, little skinny woman from Romanian with the weirdest accent worked to make my feet smooth as a baby's behind.  Then, she finishes with a massage of my legs and feet. I was nearly asleep when she was done.  AAAH.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The manicure was nice in another brown room with dim lighting and the music still meandering lightly above my head.   I had a paraffin treatment.  And the only time I was told that I needed a product.  Cuticle oil.  Buy it anywhere.  Beats hand lotion.  More massaging of arms and hands. Another beautiful cup of hot tea to enjoy while my nails dried. AAAH. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then off to the dressing room.  I didn't want to move. Nearly couldn't - I was too relaxed after five hours of doing nothing but enjoying.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out the door to reality.  The sounds of construction, the road blocks, the traffic.  Helluva way to end a flight of fantasy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Swaddling is the art of snugly wrapping your baby in a blanket for warmth&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-113888380610226104?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/113888380610226104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=113888380610226104&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113888380610226104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113888380610226104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/02/aaah-ouch-ouch-aaaaaahhh.html' title='AAAH, OUCH, OUCH - AAAaaahhh'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-113880203815449622</id><published>2006-02-01T07:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T07:53:58.166-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A day at the spa</title><content type='html'>Eat your heart out!!  Courtesy of my extremely thoughtful hubby I have a day at the spa Baliage.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Full body massage - 60 minutes of essence of rose, shea butter, reflexology and acupressure during this one-of-a-kind therapeutic and relaxing massage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hot Stone pedicure - which extends the length of a massage with a full pedicure, warm stones are used to soothe and relax the feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warm Paraffin Manicure - in addition to a Classic Manicure, hands are immersed in warm paraffin to soothe and soften the skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Facial - a luxurious signature facial includes all the benefits of a Classic facial with a warm stone massage to relax the muscles of the face, neck and shoulders, aid in the penetration of products, and soothe the skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may never return....I may stay there forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-113880203815449622?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/113880203815449622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=113880203815449622&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113880203815449622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113880203815449622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/02/day-at-spa.html' title='A day at the spa'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-113810656134815363</id><published>2006-01-24T05:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-24T06:42:41.416-06:00</updated><title type='text'>One scary mother</title><content type='html'>I was cleaning out my upstairs closet and happened across the Ouija Board.  It is called a game for fun and laughs but I was taught at my mother's knee that it is a scary thing. And, I can't ever bring myself to open the box.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a young girl, I watched as my mother and Aunt Mary moved a cardtable across the floor without touching it.  They merely laid their hands about an inch above it and the sucker moved until they removed their hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen my mother use a Ouija board and never touch the planchette.  She told me never to play with the board.  In her words: "It is dangerous!"  Anything to do with the suggestion of the occult and supernatural was "dangerous" to her.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had home remedies based in the wifecraft of years.  Warts, cut a potato into four pieces, rub each side across the wart and bury it in the earth by the light of the moon.  It works, people.  And a side benefit is that you get potatoes too.  Just dig them up and fix them in your favorite fashion, mmmmmm good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you know my family then you know that my mother is possessed of a highly attuned psychic personality - she knows ahead of time when something is happening with one of her offspring.  All of us girls have seen it in use when we were having children.  Just read &lt;a href="http://nanacookie.blogspot.com/"&gt;NanaCookie's&lt;/a&gt; description that she posted on 1/7/06. My personal experience came after the birth of my son in the hospital in South Florida.  I was suffering from postpartum depression and was crying for no apparent reason. Unknown to me, my mother had a dream the night before that I was standing at the foot of her bed asking for her to come down.  She was there the next day - having made my father drive 24 hours from Indiana to get her there as quickly as she could. [And since my other sister has started a blog, &lt;a href="http://rebeccabeckybrecca.blogspot.com/"&gt;Rebecca's Ramblings&lt;/a&gt;, I expect to see her story on it too, one day.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bottom line is that I am extremely superstitious and yes, if I spill salt I throw some over my left shoulder to drive the gremlins away that made me spill it in the first place.  I cross my fingers, I knock on wood, I do not walk under ladders, and, I will not have an open umbrella in my house.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, back upstairs to throw the damn thing out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-113810656134815363?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/113810656134815363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=113810656134815363&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113810656134815363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113810656134815363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/01/one-scary-mother.html' title='One scary mother'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-113807023144403174</id><published>2006-01-23T20:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-24T05:45:17.326-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus Christ Superstar</title><content type='html'>Our latest Sunday afternoon was spent watching this movie that first came out in 1973.  We actually went to the theatre to see it then.  I thought it was going to be sacraligious and I didn't particularly want to see it but it was great.  This is one of my favorite movies of all time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you haven't seen this movie, give it a try.  For a rock opera, it is one of the best and some of the music just gives you goosebumps.  It sure beats the pants off &lt;a href="http://www.sthugo.org/shutins.htm"&gt;Mass for shut-ins&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a taste of the super lyrics.  If you've seen the movie, you'll find yourself singing - if not, you 're missing out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Jesus in Garden of Getheseme talking to God: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why, then, am I scared to finish what I started? What you started! God, I didn't start it!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, thy will is hard. But you hold every card. I will drink your cup of poison, nail me to your cross and break me, bleed me, beat me, kill me! Take me now, before I change my mind! &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-113807023144403174?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/113807023144403174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=113807023144403174&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113807023144403174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113807023144403174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/01/jesus-christ-superstar.html' title='Jesus Christ Superstar'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-113806992766998536</id><published>2006-01-23T20:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-23T20:32:07.683-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter to my pets</title><content type='html'>When I say to move, it means to go someplace that is not in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. All &lt;br /&gt;other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note that placing &lt;br /&gt;your paw print in the middle of MY plate and food does not stake a &lt;br /&gt;claim making it YOUR plate and food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. &lt;br /&gt;Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help &lt;br /&gt;in your quest to reach the bottom first, because I fall faster than &lt;br /&gt;you can run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry &lt;br /&gt;about this. Do not think that I will continue sleeping on the couch &lt;br /&gt;to ensure your comfort.  Dogs actually curl up in a ball when they &lt;br /&gt;sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to one another, &lt;br /&gt;stretched out to the fullest extent possible.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If by&lt;br /&gt;some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is &lt;br /&gt;not necessary to claw, whine, try to turn the knob, or get your paw&lt;br /&gt;under the edge of the door and try to pull it open. I must exit &lt;br /&gt;through the same door I entered. Honest. Also, I have been using the &lt;br /&gt;bathroom by myself for quite some time --canine attendance is not &lt;br /&gt;mandatory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't stress this one enough -- kiss me, THEN go smell the other&lt;br /&gt;dog's behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To pacify you, my dear companions, I have posted the following notice &lt;br /&gt;on our front door:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Rules for Non-Pet Owners Who Visit and then Complain About Our Pets --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  The pets live here.  You don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the &lt;br /&gt;    furniture.  (That's why it's call "fur"niture.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  To you, our pets are just animals. To us, they are an adopted&lt;br /&gt;    son/daughter who happens to be hairy, walks on all fours and     &lt;br /&gt;    doesn't speak clearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Dogs are better than kids because:&lt;br /&gt;    they don't ask for money all the time,&lt;br /&gt;    they are easier to train,&lt;br /&gt;    they usually come when called,&lt;br /&gt;    they don't hang out with drug-using friends&lt;br /&gt;    they don't need a gazillion dollars for a college education, &lt;br /&gt;and  --- if they get pregnant, you can sell the  children.  :)&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                       ---author unknown&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-113806992766998536?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/113806992766998536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=113806992766998536&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113806992766998536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113806992766998536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/01/letter-to-my-pets.html' title='Letter to my pets'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-113700169216599042</id><published>2006-01-11T11:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T11:48:12.206-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mops</title><content type='html'>Before you think I've gone all serious and only writing about the items in the news - I'll give you a taste of my latest count.  6.  Yes.  6.  I own 6 mops and none of them do the job worth a damn.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe my mother had the right idea back in the '60s that you had to get down on your hands and knees twice a year and use a scrub brush on your floors.  Yeah, right.  I'm mopping because I have to, not to make mother of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a commercial mop, great big doodad of a thing that cleans 12 inches of tile in a single swipe.  Problem is that I'm developing muscles using it.  A major design flaw is that a great big hunking man didn't come with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a sponge mop with a scrub brush on one side. Problem with it is that I have 2200 feet of tile.  Swipe, swipe, scrub, scrub, and then you have to stick it back in the bucket for more water.  At that rate, mopping takes me all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have two twisty mops.  You know the kind, stick them in the bucket and twist them dry and then mop.  They suck too.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a small rag mop.  It is somewhere in-between the commercial model and the twisties.  Have to get my hands wet through to ring it out.  It does more tile on a single load of water, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have a Swiffer Wet Jet.  Works okay for those days when the floor needs a lick and a promise.  The cleaning cloth falls apart too quickly though; usually after one room.  Between the cloth and the solution I am supporting Swiffer.  I should buy stock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have come to the realization that the best floor is vinyl.  Good old-fashioned linoleum.  You can give it a swipe, it looks great.  You don't need muscles or a bunch of mops.  When it looks worn, replace it....it is cheap enough. Just think of the money you'd save not buying Swiffer products.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-113700169216599042?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/113700169216599042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=113700169216599042&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113700169216599042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113700169216599042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/01/mops.html' title='Mops'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416391.post-113699887798165852</id><published>2006-01-11T10:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-19T07:58:52.746-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Retraction on Brokeback Mountain</title><content type='html'>1/19 - Due to poor press the theatre owners are receiving, and the fact that major awards have been given to Brokeback Mountain, it will be showing in Panama City starting this weekend. Now, my feeling is the same as it is on books...I may not care to read/see it but I defend &lt;b&gt;your&lt;/b&gt; right to read/see it. And, I apologize to the Christian right, whoever they may be, as they do not own the local theatres - they just monopolize them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;1/11 - I read an editorial the other day by one of our locals that complained about &lt;strong&gt;Brokeback Mountain &lt;/strong&gt;not playing in our area.  So I went to check -- lo and behold, he is absolutely right.  &lt;s&gt;The Christian right, left and center are alive and well here in the Panhandle&lt;/s&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may not have a desire to see this highly-acclaimed movie, but I defend his right to see it.  After all, how many movies show gay men as regular guys, not the overly effeminate versions like we see on TV. &lt;s&gt;Now while the Christian right does not want to subject their poor little innocent teenagers to this nasty movie, here is what is playing and to which they sent their kids to with a cherry "have a good time"&lt;/s&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bloodrayne&lt;/strong&gt;:  [R] Strong bloody violence, some sexuality and nudity.  Trivia: The half-naked prostitutes in the scene with Leonid (Meat Loaf) are actually real Romanian prostitutes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hostel&lt;/strong&gt;: [R] Three backpackers head to a Slovakian city that promises to meet their hedonistic expectations, with no idea of the hell that awaits them.  It has old fashioned horror staples of nudity, terror, blood and tension.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wolf Creek&lt;/strong&gt;: [R] A chilling, factually-based, story of three road-trippers in remote Australia who are plunged into danger when they accept help from a friendly local.  It even gives Tobe Hooper's Texas CHAINSAW MASSACRE a run for it's money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Grandma's Boy&lt;/strong&gt;: [R] A 35 year old video game tester has to move in with his grandma and her two old lady roommates. Contains drug use and language throughout, strong crude and sexual humor, and nudity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, these are definitely movies I want my kids to see.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416391-113699887798165852?l=notesbyneenee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/feeds/113699887798165852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7416391&amp;postID=113699887798165852&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113699887798165852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416391/posts/default/113699887798165852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notesbyneenee.blogspot.com/2006/01/retraction-on-brokeback-mountain.html' title='Retraction on Brokeback Mountain'/><author><name>NeeNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08436092303038942767</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/80/2012/320/me%20051306.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
