tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65579531581582024112024-03-14T06:32:10.301-07:00Ramblings of a MotherRandom thoughts on my life as an MD MOMMY in SoCal.Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-75144410475803356542008-12-28T09:36:00.000-08:002008-12-28T10:44:02.721-08:00Bush is a Book Lover?Check it out: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB123025595706634689.html<br /><br />In a column in the Wall Street Journal the other day, Bush's bud Karl Rove wrote that President Bush read 95 books in 2006, 51 in 2007, and 40 in 2008. In fact, he said he would have read more except that he was busy being Leader of the Free World. And, no, these books were not just <span style="font-style: italic;">A Cricket in Times Square.</span> They include books such as David Halberstam's 736-page <span style="font-style: italic;">The Coldest Winter</span> and Stephen Sears' 640-page <span style="font-style: italic;">Gettysburg.</span><br /><br />As Nicky knows from my stomping, yelling and screaming during breakfast yesterday when I read this crock, reading this much is simply IMPOSSIBLE. I'm not questioning his comprehension or ability -- although I certainly could if I were not taking the high road here. I am questioning the number of hours in the day and year that a person with a job and a well-known penchant for a good night's sleep can devote to reading.<br /><br />I think I would know, too. I LOVE to read. But I have a busy job and enjoy a good night's sleep too. Yes, you say, but, unlike Bush, I am also responsible for shopping, cleaning, cooking and paying bills. True, I say, but he also really is the Leader of the Free World. Doesn't that take time?<br /><br />How much do I read? Actually, I can answer that. I have been keeping track since 2002. This was not because of a competition a la Bush vs. Rove, but rather because I had a tendency to check books out of the library not realizing that I had previously read them.<br /><br />2006: Bush 95 Bonnie 24; Although I must add that I read Diana Gabaldon's <span style="font-style: italic;">Outlander </span>series, 6 books ranging from 627 to 1070 pages each.<br /><br />2007: Bush 51 Bonnie 22<br /><br />2008: Bush 40 Bonnie 16; (I re-read the <span style="font-style: italic;">Outlander </span>series. Would strongly recommend it.)<br /><br />Well, you say, maybe he has time to read books because he doesn't read 3 newspapers every day like I do. He has previously admitted to not reading newspapers. He relies on his staff to give him the news because he thinks it is more objective. Like whether or not weapons of mass destruction exist. Whatever. But that takes time, too; doesn't it? Or is he reading his books while the news is being downloaded to him by his aides? That image of him multitasking is too scary to even contemplate, although I pretty much envisioned it after the 2002 election ...<br /><br />Sorry about that digression. High road here....<br /><br />My point is that it is impossible for him to do his job and read all those books.<br /><br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqhLKQnjd7UvOfJj7L1mfAaOsgD_kdOLRhObiTsrAsGuC-IeGTlWsXKfvCwbSu8QfahyphenhypheneSRqLA3VSX8_rrlXvZMOJDErRVyTSWoy0ckq4FnQ_4Hsa630T5tO-xwi7K1liU7RUIBiEQ7_0/s1600-h/bush_bookupsidedown.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 331px; height: 253px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqhLKQnjd7UvOfJj7L1mfAaOsgD_kdOLRhObiTsrAsGuC-IeGTlWsXKfvCwbSu8QfahyphenhypheneSRqLA3VSX8_rrlXvZMOJDErRVyTSWoy0ckq4FnQ_4Hsa630T5tO-xwi7K1liU7RUIBiEQ7_0/s320/bush_bookupsidedown.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284909414456460530" border="0" /></a>Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-80866063636134343492008-12-26T11:07:00.000-08:002008-12-27T16:43:56.633-08:00The Pastry Chef<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyG1EooxvQMNARGd4MLTtlIpnbWHISquVGx_MKE65EPAxjGfHuJAHh05JLTO84lanvMaQqaRXyI5kDt4oPG-z83IbvKwJS6H6MrBnUHHwOm1KgcoS47XUAw5kM_JNP8KlbQ8yGQZIuLtQ/s1600-h/CIMG1068.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyG1EooxvQMNARGd4MLTtlIpnbWHISquVGx_MKE65EPAxjGfHuJAHh05JLTO84lanvMaQqaRXyI5kDt4oPG-z83IbvKwJS6H6MrBnUHHwOm1KgcoS47XUAw5kM_JNP8KlbQ8yGQZIuLtQ/s320/CIMG1068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284633384938076850" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Christmas this year was cold and rainy here in Sunny Southern California. A perfect day for staying home in the kitchen to prepare a gourmet dinner: 1) for Uncle Michael who missed Thanksgiving due to not feeling well and 2) for Manny to celebrate a hearty Christmas. The first thing I did --before tackling the stuffing (not easy with a broken food processor) and the turkey (never easy to remove the stupid frozen wire), was to bake a cake. Motivated by Bobby Flay's red velvet cake throwdown and the Cakery Bakery's Buche de Noel which I had purchased for our Alliance Francaise holiday fete, I composed a Moura Secret Family Recipe Red Velvet Cake. Here I am with the finished product. Needless to say, it was delicieux. Oh, and please don't let on about the Moura Secret Family Recipe Cream Cheese Frosting.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7BjFL7ChdsbUqFsqlk3rmBZay4oD78olT_vKibljqiMyoZEcG4c7LEYgJQjw07WJPM7F54GdYQq2JTXrjE-6vtXeVfTp2Rn89jJ3cGw8qt5HWwt0d78Sk-mrPxEbf3914fidRwJIen6U/s1600-h/Grape+Pie+3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7BjFL7ChdsbUqFsqlk3rmBZay4oD78olT_vKibljqiMyoZEcG4c7LEYgJQjw07WJPM7F54GdYQq2JTXrjE-6vtXeVfTp2Rn89jJ3cGw8qt5HWwt0d78Sk-mrPxEbf3914fidRwJIen6U/s320/Grape+Pie+3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284634174957945426" border="0" /></a><br /><br />While on the subject of gourmet pastries, I will also boast about my Grape Pie. Concord grapes are extremely difficult to find here in SoCal. They have to be imported from Back East. I only found them once this year at Whole Foods. With apologies to the Locavore movement, with whom I completely agree, I bought them and concocted the pie. Even mon ami the French baker asked for the recipe. Note to all: he said he would have put a layer of creme under the grapes. But we all thought it was delectable as is.<br /></div>Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-9862372902691819662008-04-12T08:09:00.001-07:002008-04-12T08:26:54.787-07:00Any Lives Left?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimPfmkvhgKb9Wg5Z_4cLbiO-7Mafye5Yk-ftB6L32y2IhjszUH0WOgaBmzUWxnR2p9_KvLklzxhXgWPbhNygWkYgvTT3yEUdH6Zij9-9Ojnl0JGJl45ktDBykqhxgmLiIINH3flB7gE58/s1600-h/BootsMyMan.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188377518438829154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimPfmkvhgKb9Wg5Z_4cLbiO-7Mafye5Yk-ftB6L32y2IhjszUH0WOgaBmzUWxnR2p9_KvLklzxhXgWPbhNygWkYgvTT3yEUdH6Zij9-9Ojnl0JGJl45ktDBykqhxgmLiIINH3flB7gE58/s320/BootsMyMan.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrUvwwhnBdgwW98D_7mn9wq5g3dtcBnqAQAQYhTcL9B3jtRc3osJT-Ry1zQn2TT6ol9elR_m4LGOAWfr-Wmy8PT9Ni8qfOjHPozTIeavgafY6djqnGeo93E3NeT8Qhs5KtooFcYjSTVRY/s1600-h/CIMG0800.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188377067467263058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrUvwwhnBdgwW98D_7mn9wq5g3dtcBnqAQAQYhTcL9B3jtRc3osJT-Ry1zQn2TT6ol9elR_m4LGOAWfr-Wmy8PT9Ni8qfOjHPozTIeavgafY6djqnGeo93E3NeT8Qhs5KtooFcYjSTVRY/s320/CIMG0800.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div> As many of you know, my cat -- Boots, My Man -- was the victim of a vicious unprovoked coyote attack last November. We almost lost poor Bootsy. Lucky for him, he used up most of his remaining lives and pulled through. We are very grateful to our skilled vet, Dr. Lucero, who placed drains throughout Bootsy's abdomen, and commended him on being such a strong and brave cat. Dr. Lucero was pretty sure, in fact, that the coyote had not fared as well in the claws of Boots. Here are some recent photos of Boots. You can see that he has regained the weight he lost and is now again obese. (Because he bites my ankles, and then I feed him. As I told the vet, it's survival of the fittest.) He is no longer allowed to wander any further than 1) the balcony and 2) the roof, where you can see him peering through the window, having just remembered that it's time to come in and eat again.</div></div>Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-5829134456018004292008-04-09T18:22:00.000-07:002008-04-12T08:08:53.654-07:00Paul's GraduationHere is the schedule he sent me:<br /><br />Friday, April 25th<br />3:10 PM - 4:30 PM: History Graduation Ceremony, MLB Aud 3<br />6:00 PM - 8:00 PM: LSA Scholarship Reception, Michigan Union U-Club<br /><br />Saturday, April 26th<br />7:00 AM - 8:00 AM: Guests Arrive on Diag<br />8:00 AM - 9:00 AM: Students Arrive at Start Point<br />10:00 AM: Commencement Ceremony Begins<br />5:00 PM: Paul gets kicked out of his apartment and becomes a homeless college graduate.<br /><br />That's my son!Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-57195115390117881632008-04-07T09:22:00.001-07:002008-04-07T09:33:42.118-07:00Walking the Dog<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj86lVtfX_D842Ws4bFh0GTY6iJ9Kp9cdDMbFVBdUP-yPLH0OniQYqSvLXCj30uljAuUP37BYwqLXnAIJepaatl1EFd8V9QT1K9e8KaaVoyUhgmWyM4OHZyO_XrTSmVXBGy-nFxqMkxnM/s1600-h/CIMG0794.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186540679341236498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj86lVtfX_D842Ws4bFh0GTY6iJ9Kp9cdDMbFVBdUP-yPLH0OniQYqSvLXCj30uljAuUP37BYwqLXnAIJepaatl1EFd8V9QT1K9e8KaaVoyUhgmWyM4OHZyO_XrTSmVXBGy-nFxqMkxnM/s320/CIMG0794.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZlcCStqR1Sm1Qi5Lpb3FLJNGFer5BgGDJcXHB7ouPD_Sj6DkerVVE-vfNb5KzqfK9OV8LPk2dSZdywJLTbuNQgLcy_7OEqlFegSI64SAhMUKFdVR6tJl3PUVgjaW1dd8PSo0dU4H1yPY/s1600-h/CIMG0792.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186540340038820098" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZlcCStqR1Sm1Qi5Lpb3FLJNGFer5BgGDJcXHB7ouPD_Sj6DkerVVE-vfNb5KzqfK9OV8LPk2dSZdywJLTbuNQgLcy_7OEqlFegSI64SAhMUKFdVR6tJl3PUVgjaW1dd8PSo0dU4H1yPY/s320/CIMG0792.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1UIznHzJbWUQn0sBgFqruWAzNBEVHOpW1PgzV339seEsPQFyfKW3Tksp_kmVJX17kShjtsogtX5Yd_T-NJKYXCLJFXzBrU15iPEraVAUqcFLiQt-BlBo0CoXurH3iH3xS-C3EW_ZgGYw/s1600-h/CIMG0790.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186540039391109362" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1UIznHzJbWUQn0sBgFqruWAzNBEVHOpW1PgzV339seEsPQFyfKW3Tksp_kmVJX17kShjtsogtX5Yd_T-NJKYXCLJFXzBrU15iPEraVAUqcFLiQt-BlBo0CoXurH3iH3xS-C3EW_ZgGYw/s320/CIMG0790.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Rowlf never got trained very well. He got kicked out of The Dog Whisperer's obedience class for being disobedient. Nicky tried to train him by reasoning with him. Manny tried to train him by threatening violence. Poor Rowlf. And now that Nicky's off to college, Rowlf is despondent. So we decided to go for a hike with him yesterday on the Arroyo Seco Trail above JPL. There were signs all over the place with a little icon of a dog walker, a dog, and a leash tethering them together. We got the message. Plus, we don't totally trust Rowlf off leash. I should reword that: we don't trust what strangers would do if Rowlf were off leash. Rowlf is actually just trying to be friendly, but sometimes strangers don't get it when a 76-pound energetic shepherd mix comes bounding up to them to say hello. We met one woman on the trail who convinced us to "liberate" Rowlf from his leash to play with her 8-month old shepherd/boxer mix. Rowlf, after asserting dominance in the usual doggy way, was in doggie heaven. But a pebble in his paw sent us on our way downhill, and he was back on leash. Thinking he could then say, "Hi!" to any other dog he met, we ran into a small Chihuahua-looking thing, on leash, walking with his owners. Rowlf was just SO excited to see this little friend that he strained and -- omigod -- slipped out of his collar! Little Pepe's owners freaked as Rowlf ran over to greet their diminutive pup. They pulled up on the leash, and the next thing we knew Pepe was flying off the ground, swinging around by the neck, looking like something out of The Exorcist. Luckily, we grabbed Rowlf before Pepe could be decapitated. I mean, really, what did the owners think Rowlf would have done? Sniffed their dog to death? That little protective maneuver could have injured the poor thing, or worse. And Rowlf doesn't understand the mixed messages about which dogs he can play with and which ones he can't. Neither do I, actually. I'll attach some photos showing how "well-behaved" Rowlf was on the hike.</div></div></div>Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-92135018748901182732008-03-24T19:38:00.001-07:002008-03-24T20:02:59.059-07:00Photos From London<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhErjpiKtEsMwfeOW9KfyGpdgTcf3GunAs2kqlJlY1nLgAIuXV4hN6N6Qv2nPo5PHPluHjJXx0ZYgcKbN1BXbj4FVylvDIpeUXicfxp1TJYrsE9oFIkwNBhF8WDps1pqSLxgJrAAiFKegM/s1600-h/Chestnuts.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181505513086476482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhErjpiKtEsMwfeOW9KfyGpdgTcf3GunAs2kqlJlY1nLgAIuXV4hN6N6Qv2nPo5PHPluHjJXx0ZYgcKbN1BXbj4FVylvDIpeUXicfxp1TJYrsE9oFIkwNBhF8WDps1pqSLxgJrAAiFKegM/s320/Chestnuts.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid5KwDbjE-vNVu1-4qL4om6oc7uYZ3Eb-3qwedX_B9SWeoO1X9DFppF6ERsse_aN0ZGK5jBrDITnywpk_KoJeDJz3yXPiQ3_cse8kdaHbGvDBae_xQyazMSjpouEmdzb32KGEmN4d5YtM/s1600-h/MomAshtower2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181504800121905330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid5KwDbjE-vNVu1-4qL4om6oc7uYZ3Eb-3qwedX_B9SWeoO1X9DFppF6ERsse_aN0ZGK5jBrDITnywpk_KoJeDJz3yXPiQ3_cse8kdaHbGvDBae_xQyazMSjpouEmdzb32KGEmN4d5YtM/s320/MomAshtower2.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCNEKSxXZpOPzMsxOqvTJ4mqYuoH0Yfos6XoesNjq3TvpYmH25you1SuJRqjKmf0wWx9l9c4Ae86CVpiORfk87hnPVrtyaXD25Lkbc3WSyJBpcRE1Fqjvt8saYK4KNypn2xy0ZI5hxBZg/s1600-h/AshHarryP1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181504374920143010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCNEKSxXZpOPzMsxOqvTJ4mqYuoH0Yfos6XoesNjq3TvpYmH25you1SuJRqjKmf0wWx9l9c4Ae86CVpiORfk87hnPVrtyaXD25Lkbc3WSyJBpcRE1Fqjvt8saYK4KNypn2xy0ZI5hxBZg/s320/AshHarryP1.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjrJrA124ySv4m2cIO4CtE_yC5UnTh_kdPbWfTrQs1VoJ5ibbk_YxGYBJ_IdlSFAylrPeKeALTGHcz3V2baPrWN5uH52S4zldq82i68JfU0uGufbY9o8fU4xN4OiBBc3jH1JkqJjh4CZc/s1600-h/Bride&groom2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181504125812039826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjrJrA124ySv4m2cIO4CtE_yC5UnTh_kdPbWfTrQs1VoJ5ibbk_YxGYBJ_IdlSFAylrPeKeALTGHcz3V2baPrWN5uH52S4zldq82i68JfU0uGufbY9o8fU4xN4OiBBc3jH1JkqJjh4CZc/s320/Bride&groom2.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZX87X7yZ6vGrlNCAS38ZQdf3-Vr8bpzirxFwf1u1Z6mZsuMWoglu5GG__dRJBeT2KnvOrItMk4nVpf3fET2VIXU9y95_tsMcSY8QAigXKdIkQn2w7DnEc34EczX7y3geboWzHKtN2ilY/s1600-h/MomAshBen3.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181503734970015874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZX87X7yZ6vGrlNCAS38ZQdf3-Vr8bpzirxFwf1u1Z6mZsuMWoglu5GG__dRJBeT2KnvOrItMk4nVpf3fET2VIXU9y95_tsMcSY8QAigXKdIkQn2w7DnEc34EczX7y3geboWzHKtN2ilY/s320/MomAshBen3.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNeCPwFdtV311Tr_y9765wppxqieo6paWnPZADwiGpoxR1yfrvYmCdp9jgidPY16LykwcBgSvLmMCQP1zXCDrJnCTiMFm_MqgFBVRes6Zz82S7zb-fZwg8zd5y1cjzE_dV81YQvQIghxE/s1600-h/Mom&Royals1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181503344127991922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNeCPwFdtV311Tr_y9765wppxqieo6paWnPZADwiGpoxR1yfrvYmCdp9jgidPY16LykwcBgSvLmMCQP1zXCDrJnCTiMFm_MqgFBVRes6Zz82S7zb-fZwg8zd5y1cjzE_dV81YQvQIghxE/s320/Mom&Royals1.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Broken clavicle aside (OK -- the truth: he did it skydiving), Ashton, Mana & I had a very nice Presidents' Day long weekend in London. </div><div>#1: Mana & Ashton being photogenic. </div><div>#2: Me & Ashton at the Tower of London. </div><div>#3: Ashton en route to Hogwart's, leaving from Kings Cross Station, Platform 9 3/4. </div><div>#4: Wedding celebration in front of Buckingham Palace. I took pictures of the photographers taking pictures. It was picturesque. </div><div>#5: Me & Ashton beside the river Thames, Big Ben in the background. </div><div>#6: Visiting with the Royal Family. They seemed respectable, but weren't much for conversation.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div></div></div></div></div>Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-50938694203981861142008-01-25T09:24:00.000-08:002008-01-25T09:36:05.145-08:00Application SeasonOK, that's it; I have had it with 1) worthless speculation on who is going to be elected President and 2) applications to college/law school/medical school. Why is it that the schools to which my kids are applying want to know the minutest details of their short educational careers, yet applicants for Leader of the Free World don't have to submit a personal statement, transcripts or standardized test scores? Is this a double standard or what? Furthermore, the candidates will not even disclose their LSAT scores! Why not? Do they have something to hide? What about their transcripts? Don't we want to know if they (i.e., GW) failed American history? These candidates are in front of the cameras 24/7 expounding on their virtues, but they won't give us the facts. My suggestion: Either change college/medical/law/vet school admissions to a popular election or require that the candidates submit their test scores. Hillary, Barack, John, John, Mitt, Huck, what do you have to say?Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-88728211983323632252007-07-15T12:47:00.000-07:002007-07-15T13:54:31.979-07:00Photos from France<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDvqzaEA37bHG5JdNKlCjA2tRSgXZZIM0aOiWgzcg9auf_qi6cu2e_UF-gAIyUEM1aAa1Q-MXWy5d7xTOhuWIhf6wut4sTSOQI9z_4sIM5RbmuDZ-uhu7cYE-CNNIuNqLnLcQQA3DhIoU/s1600-h/Marche+3.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087525707985367122" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDvqzaEA37bHG5JdNKlCjA2tRSgXZZIM0aOiWgzcg9auf_qi6cu2e_UF-gAIyUEM1aAa1Q-MXWy5d7xTOhuWIhf6wut4sTSOQI9z_4sIM5RbmuDZ-uhu7cYE-CNNIuNqLnLcQQA3DhIoU/s320/Marche+3.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjF3FW8P4U_UiWNcvXfK7WO5ik1LviFWm5FI6funn4q_Zr0d3nFwKiLPOuXBXerI3BB1OdrvOPr1Ta-z1LY8tI7BHU6WwaujxF8vMmpsF7bMHgt1SAIfPhaAsedRsn00bf7EZB6IUgsP0/s1600-h/Marche+2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087518586929590338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjF3FW8P4U_UiWNcvXfK7WO5ik1LviFWm5FI6funn4q_Zr0d3nFwKiLPOuXBXerI3BB1OdrvOPr1Ta-z1LY8tI7BHU6WwaujxF8vMmpsF7bMHgt1SAIfPhaAsedRsn00bf7EZB6IUgsP0/s320/Marche+2.JPG" border="0" /></a> The first three photos show me amongst my favorite things: food and shoes, in my favorite place: France. We went to a different marche in different towns every day or two to stock up on provisions (i.e., food and shoes). The produce was fresh, beautiful and mouth-watering delicious. We managed to get there right at the end of strawberry season, and I'm not talking about the big tasteless ones we have here, but the little sweet ones they have in France. Not as easy to dip into the dark French chocolate, but worth the effort. We were also smack dab in the middle of Cavaillon melon season. We bought and ate two melons every day. The photo at upper left shows the spice stand. Note the huge pile of lavender. I'm standing in front of a basket of herbs de Provence. They also sell bread, cheese, sausages, clothes, fabric, tablecloths, towels, jewelry and temporary tattoos at the marche. As for the shoes (next photo down), are they cute or what? I couldn't resist for only 20 euros. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8kM9MFizdG6ZB55hJ048FgWsYpfCrt5dMXIUWeqiG6apw7_DxT_hJujlCYx7C_Tz4dMbFZf0y5XgaVXuUX1B9PxZbki7Ya3-77dOB3OQu0h1Cok349nkAPJXunho7YF8GLAMMFwbz-I/s1600-h/Marche+4.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087518071533514802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8kM9MFizdG6ZB55hJ048FgWsYpfCrt5dMXIUWeqiG6apw7_DxT_hJujlCYx7C_Tz4dMbFZf0y5XgaVXuUX1B9PxZbki7Ya3-77dOB3OQu0h1Cok349nkAPJXunho7YF8GLAMMFwbz-I/s320/Marche+4.JPG" border="0" /></a> Which reminds me: the cost of living in France seems to be more or less the same as in Los Angeles. The food at the marche is about the same, the food in restaurants is about the same, and the food in the supermarket is way less. Gas prices were somewhere between $4 and $5/gallon (sort of difficult to calculate, since it's sold in euros/liter), but the gas mileage on the cars is way better. We rented a Volkswagen Touran SUV with a diesel engine and got something like 35 miles/gallon. As for the cost of healthcare in France, I suggest you see "Sicko."<br /><br /><div> </div><div> </div><div>Below is a photo of us standing on the banks of the Rhone River. In the background is the city of Avignon. Lucky for us, they have built a new bridge across the river (to the right of us; you can't see it) since the Pont St. Benezet bridge (to the left of us; you can't see it) of nursery-rhyme fame ("Sur le pont d'Avignon, on y danse, on y danse ...") was flooded and partially destroyed in 1668. In Avignon we toured the Palais des Papes as well as the Pont St. Benezet. Manny liked it because he's Catholic, Paul liked it because it's historic, I liked it because it's France, Ashton liked it because he likes everything, and Nicky sat on a bench waiting for us.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgweZUKfK7zyXbSGrYni_fskG7QXRd7SpAlygo-wFgIaM37UaljN88JuVP5mT5qVLMvSdg9R_XTAuY2d-DT5x0SFsa8w6WxizbMvRRcO9t2ULa-fZp1aADFBLp5TfTHmfrOrERZ1vigZko/s1600-h/Mouras+in+Avignon+2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087517165295415330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgweZUKfK7zyXbSGrYni_fskG7QXRd7SpAlygo-wFgIaM37UaljN88JuVP5mT5qVLMvSdg9R_XTAuY2d-DT5x0SFsa8w6WxizbMvRRcO9t2ULa-fZp1aADFBLp5TfTHmfrOrERZ1vigZko/s320/Mouras+in+Avignon+2.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaWjYbHDWZP-1tNAYw8pCV05QqiZk8pIHGPWzKGNRAYszTzE8k6rFJJEKzRYnPHOBZ4wph_32W1sUzx1NXNGnGWaXfzS0Xk7aD22DsLbgJ0qDD2oarrqUZfmeJDyf3V8YzfYVJV9gTXZY/s1600-h/Sophie+&+Mari+3.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087515339934314514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaWjYbHDWZP-1tNAYw8pCV05QqiZk8pIHGPWzKGNRAYszTzE8k6rFJJEKzRYnPHOBZ4wph_32W1sUzx1NXNGnGWaXfzS0Xk7aD22DsLbgJ0qDD2oarrqUZfmeJDyf3V8YzfYVJV9gTXZY/s320/Sophie+%26+Mari+3.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX_HfoPyvf98MnMzzTAWxg4Q5MHYIp7_v1L0rs4fXZMT5o5zhfkJuumt-j59-j1747jo0uHoWz2Zk22-6Qz57J1kWgBjlIwNnSIpwrc8T6rVX92t-eOpRwGIj5wbtZfydnaMOpeUMMx1s/s1600-h/Wine+Tasting+In+Sablet.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087513493098377218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX_HfoPyvf98MnMzzTAWxg4Q5MHYIp7_v1L0rs4fXZMT5o5zhfkJuumt-j59-j1747jo0uHoWz2Zk22-6Qz57J1kWgBjlIwNnSIpwrc8T6rVX92t-eOpRwGIj5wbtZfydnaMOpeUMMx1s/s320/Wine+Tasting+In+Sablet.JPG" border="0" /></a> Here we are at a picnic winetasting and Provencal lunch in the vineyards of Sablet, hosted by the Autrans, the owners of Domaine de Piaugier and our not-so-petite gite. We tasted many of their EXCELLENT wines. The French have no concept of a legal drinking age ... and the most that could go wrong would be someone getting tipsy and tripping over a grapevine ... so all the boys joined us. The "lunch" lasted until dinnertime. The photo on the left is Sophie and her husband. He works in the vineyards and makes the wine. She manages the business and sells the wine. And, oh, yes, we are expecting our case to arrive in San Francisco in about 45 days, by way of the Panama Canal. Homeland Security wouldn't let us bring any back on the plane. They even confiscated our sunblock in Chicago, after we had already traveled with it from Marseille to Madrid and Madrid to Chicago. Gotta fight those terrorists.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-53523340031969383872007-07-14T20:04:00.000-07:002007-07-14T20:12:39.247-07:00Bag LadyDid you know that grocery stores in France do not provide you with bags to pack your groceries? You have to take your own. We found this out the first time we went to Leclerc in Vaison La Romaine. The checker rang up the items and just left them for us at the end of the checkstand. The kids and I just stood there, amazed .... waiting for no one to pack our groceries. We finally figured out that this is the norm there. I was like, "Do you guys see the irony in this?" because <span style="color:#cc33cc;">I </span><span style="color:#000000;">am the only one at Ralph's in La Crescenta every Sunday who brings in my own bags to recycle. In fact, Ralph's gives me 5 cents/bag, and that's one of the ways I saved up enough money to even go to France. I don't know the exact reasoning behind this French tradition, but obviously it's better for the environment. When I went to Target today to buy Nicky some pillows for college and the checker was trying to shove each individual pillow -- already in plastic wrap -- into a plastic bag, it was apparent to me how wasteful we Americans are without even thinking. Vive la France!</span>Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-52008444523047265192007-06-02T11:05:00.000-07:002007-06-02T11:10:08.568-07:00Memorial Day 2007Memorial Day 2007. The Drum Major and his Mom.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuz32nPupvsKZA5x279ZCRSdxgdAZmdQ6PDox8HVZU0KISpplVynQotEolm0W0lEN1cp2a7aE_j9HC8jg9WFU6A4klZaIxmJosmaGGAOt6Ik4Mhlj5YOAhVx1MsusASP6QGTYMPkT2Etg/s1600-h/Nick+%26+Bonnie+Big+Smile+Bon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071530652518365378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuz32nPupvsKZA5x279ZCRSdxgdAZmdQ6PDox8HVZU0KISpplVynQotEolm0W0lEN1cp2a7aE_j9HC8jg9WFU6A4klZaIxmJosmaGGAOt6Ik4Mhlj5YOAhVx1MsusASP6QGTYMPkT2Etg/s320/Nick+%26+Bonnie+Big+Smile+Bon.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqIYey8MsPqAgMAbtTHdQhmC5AWK3Q5PLgkRgbIlMGeW4Edkeug3POR3sy5GqfJ880oVYVhILzRxGXwtvCxzc3wu9BaRgiV-8NES1rFTSxMpdNomn25vOsJu9RAU4QTt1fVSOnjrhl-yg/s1600-h/Nick+%26+Bonnie+CU+with+Smile.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071530656813332690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqIYey8MsPqAgMAbtTHdQhmC5AWK3Q5PLgkRgbIlMGeW4Edkeug3POR3sy5GqfJ880oVYVhILzRxGXwtvCxzc3wu9BaRgiV-8NES1rFTSxMpdNomn25vOsJu9RAU4QTt1fVSOnjrhl-yg/s320/Nick+%26+Bonnie+CU+with+Smile.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSE56e7KUXpb8w3gG75B-Vf40x94W8dl3-KSMAuzIWG3GW0i3w72hzq3u-6uLXcQQp0wyyvmnnr598S2Psgn5zA5zhlHJVc8-zQfvXGW_2tOsnRrI9pinHCZgW9PTGzXvejT26533Zp-Q/s1600-h/Nick+%26+Bonnie+Mem+Day+Last+.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071530656813332706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSE56e7KUXpb8w3gG75B-Vf40x94W8dl3-KSMAuzIWG3GW0i3w72hzq3u-6uLXcQQp0wyyvmnnr598S2Psgn5zA5zhlHJVc8-zQfvXGW_2tOsnRrI9pinHCZgW9PTGzXvejT26533Zp-Q/s320/Nick+%26+Bonnie+Mem+Day+Last+.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw8JbGtYOmTV6j7BrXbsnReSH324XmSeM5OK9m8Op2Ohq7qMIW3fMCE4dcA81EjdAepXEw_2FXmI2Sx0V4Ln0BoD3ylqnWS9VEfzDURtm1Kx5YZWzPeu4eQ7c_O8QflMGE6Qc6YLAgsJc/s1600-h/Nick+%26+Bonnie+Mem+Day+Parad.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071530661108300018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw8JbGtYOmTV6j7BrXbsnReSH324XmSeM5OK9m8Op2Ohq7qMIW3fMCE4dcA81EjdAepXEw_2FXmI2Sx0V4Ln0BoD3ylqnWS9VEfzDURtm1Kx5YZWzPeu4eQ7c_O8QflMGE6Qc6YLAgsJc/s320/Nick+%26+Bonnie+Mem+Day+Parad.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhalYEXtuH93PxxdYmTUgV3TXHtLxa8oREjtefdYI3rj1Wq5xyBu7DG1tF3Og4CqvVhVU3g19tI0bwh_6fyIMdbZntXOP3MxyBhfViYxCxtHbJzCYjJwF259gJRIPyy0z6I8tBDy0ciD1s/s1600-h/Nick+%26+Bonnie+Wide+Shot.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071530665403267330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhalYEXtuH93PxxdYmTUgV3TXHtLxa8oREjtefdYI3rj1Wq5xyBu7DG1tF3Og4CqvVhVU3g19tI0bwh_6fyIMdbZntXOP3MxyBhfViYxCxtHbJzCYjJwF259gJRIPyy0z6I8tBDy0ciD1s/s320/Nick+%26+Bonnie+Wide+Shot.jpg" border="0" /></a>Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-39451828836736019752007-06-02T10:56:00.000-07:002007-06-02T11:04:18.802-07:00Nicky's Concerto Concert May 23, 2007Photos from Nicky's performance at Lanterman auditorium.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeRAwfTL1LmzsH_dlzphuwWoBOnw2FGeCZUZ-X0XOl_8h1-BOZtg4OHDnALqDS9HcY7GxKUfz0D3jBlLvozdsfgCqdyP9-xZl36P3PqNxiEHim_SqWGGZHQxbiATmYvzhSnLMgBQpWUPs/s1600-h/CU+Nicky.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071529029020727410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeRAwfTL1LmzsH_dlzphuwWoBOnw2FGeCZUZ-X0XOl_8h1-BOZtg4OHDnALqDS9HcY7GxKUfz0D3jBlLvozdsfgCqdyP9-xZl36P3PqNxiEHim_SqWGGZHQxbiATmYvzhSnLMgBQpWUPs/s320/CU+Nicky.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikZrZd6JTmT2VogvSCPRSsZpBPZ4MMaMNGaMvKEvGx5H-X-6c5sjThdm-NOK5XjnYMzZA-2sm5FS1yU7uCJK81x9Ae5DLUChPgl1C2RP7Svd7boXhDjdgGYtaMooE0SsTKD0fV7PXKRVA/s1600-h/End+of+Performance.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071529033315694722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikZrZd6JTmT2VogvSCPRSsZpBPZ4MMaMNGaMvKEvGx5H-X-6c5sjThdm-NOK5XjnYMzZA-2sm5FS1yU7uCJK81x9Ae5DLUChPgl1C2RP7Svd7boXhDjdgGYtaMooE0SsTKD0fV7PXKRVA/s320/End+of+Performance.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPThwtPOa4fKqMVfg68XXczF_t-WGSGcmtP1AgDmFRL6br3O1tB9hfFvkVP7xuwW47_3MjhlxHW2xRSQWGJ2gZtQWUEScvIODaEfByxx8MZ64Sd_7X6TN0yW1g1LmRA8BvktybFRQCib0/s1600-h/MCU+Nicky.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071529037610662034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPThwtPOa4fKqMVfg68XXczF_t-WGSGcmtP1AgDmFRL6br3O1tB9hfFvkVP7xuwW47_3MjhlxHW2xRSQWGJ2gZtQWUEScvIODaEfByxx8MZ64Sd_7X6TN0yW1g1LmRA8BvktybFRQCib0/s320/MCU+Nicky.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZ04UvW1t9Vgba8nSRCRJvGeQcbKJ-leSdOnGmt7-fnYrUUOjK4hJa2lN0GXQIKIFdk0hEZljhgtAUMTupLuoIzEFGZji49NgHgs4gTFdTd1XBO3CIT4vz3Lu50xAdKBuuOX9Gnpc8HM/s1600-h/MCU+Playing.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071529041905629346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZ04UvW1t9Vgba8nSRCRJvGeQcbKJ-leSdOnGmt7-fnYrUUOjK4hJa2lN0GXQIKIFdk0hEZljhgtAUMTupLuoIzEFGZji49NgHgs4gTFdTd1XBO3CIT4vz3Lu50xAdKBuuOX9Gnpc8HM/s320/MCU+Playing.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJHH_nTSVjz3roW7AipNrchJp_BDPYwmPJKoqSICybyqSDDq-Dh1PsVzWd3YYdaEzPXucvcYNdBvUxnDex2Y1-w-PZnLWz8twtaT7wPNHVKn21mD2y9F3Gl2Nihf6pWh2bYWbkPhPoCvo/s1600-h/Med+Wide+.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071529046200596658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJHH_nTSVjz3roW7AipNrchJp_BDPYwmPJKoqSICybyqSDDq-Dh1PsVzWd3YYdaEzPXucvcYNdBvUxnDex2Y1-w-PZnLWz8twtaT7wPNHVKn21mD2y9F3Gl2Nihf6pWh2bYWbkPhPoCvo/s320/Med+Wide+.jpg" border="0" /></a>Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-80518513053503965842007-01-18T09:00:00.000-08:002007-01-18T09:02:17.821-08:00To My ChildrenThe intended purpose of this blog is not as a forum for you guys to trash and criticize each other. Start your own blog if you want to do that. <br />Love, MomBonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-79624311148305453972007-01-15T11:00:00.000-08:002007-01-15T11:11:43.829-08:00Paul & Nickya<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie4pOhM86L1822jMlYWdpwHiI4_1vdHuox0xdcqqGnioKTVWmWvsJ-qAYnjnDUqHDVSpLOuDYq8NaLhWhStuy4tfaHdWo_OTSIdqCzgar93zvYHy5IqtB5CbDIDr_2axDsel2DI_Nk1TY/s1600-h/PaulNickyRoseParadeJan0107.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020335682105191138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie4pOhM86L1822jMlYWdpwHiI4_1vdHuox0xdcqqGnioKTVWmWvsJ-qAYnjnDUqHDVSpLOuDYq8NaLhWhStuy4tfaHdWo_OTSIdqCzgar93zvYHy5IqtB5CbDIDr_2axDsel2DI_Nk1TY/s320/PaulNickyRoseParadeJan0107.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Paul and Nicky at the start of the Rose Parade 2007. Apparently the MMB staff saw Nicky, thought he was Paul, and became confused as to why Paul was in the wrong uniform, playing the wrong instrument. Nicky is just hoping that his AP stats teacher doesn't ask him to calculate the odds of two brothers both marching in the Rose Parade, one band right before the other, with Paul in the very back row of the parade block and Nicky in the front row, right behind Paul.</div>Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-39864554625310116162007-01-15T09:34:00.000-08:002007-01-15T14:49:56.093-08:00Ashton's braces<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYn7FCzWxnm8qBWM9cjRnr6v4wILD0i_-G-x2Nqvbva580szKNuQ7oeeXq0HvaciTNUVObtyvPqI39aVPMRw37Zp68c-qq0b27ZBtCwL1s9GkeGkPO55zU-tZETw5nlPGpuG-YKPfhbx4/s1600-h/Ashton+with+braces.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020393178832382706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYn7FCzWxnm8qBWM9cjRnr6v4wILD0i_-G-x2Nqvbva580szKNuQ7oeeXq0HvaciTNUVObtyvPqI39aVPMRw37Zp68c-qq0b27ZBtCwL1s9GkeGkPO55zU-tZETw5nlPGpuG-YKPfhbx4/s320/Ashton+with+braces.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Ashton got braces on Saturday. The very nice USC orthodontist gave me his cell phone number and his email address in case of emergency. Needless to say, the topic of conversation at family dinner that night was what would entail such an emergency that one would need to call the orthodontist on his cell phone. Ashton wants to, though. He is disturbed because the instructions they gave him said he could have only one carbonated beverage per day because the carbonation could unglue the brackets. We were unsure whether it was the bubbles or the carbon dioxide itself that would cause the damage. Ashton thinks he should call the orthodontist on his cell phone to ask because he wants to drink more sodas.<br /><br />Comments?</div>Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-11237443212085501872007-01-15T09:33:00.000-08:002007-01-19T15:21:41.149-08:00Scott's first winterAnn Arbor – 32 deg F<br />Berkeley – 35 deg F<br />La Canada – 46 deg F<br /><br />Looks like it’s cold in California. So far it has been a very mild winter in Michigan.<br /><br />Mom (Jovauna disregard) – I woke up to the most beautiful thing this morning. All the trees and grass were completely iced over. Everything is a winter white. The trees are all dropping down because of the weight of the ice. It’s so cool. I’m walking around breaking icicles off of trees while everyone is looking at me like I’m mentally retarded.<br /><br />Updated 1/19/07:<br /><br />Mom,<br /><br />IT'S SNOWING! It's like being on vacation at Lake Tahoe. Little kids are sledding outside and everyone has a smile on their face. I wish I had a camera to send you pictures. Speaking of, the Explorer looks like it wants to take a gun to its head. It's iced over and covered with snow. I'm concerned about the bottom rusting out.Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-17675114508507912992007-01-07T18:46:00.000-08:002007-01-07T18:47:49.459-08:00Favorite George Bush quote"The key for me is to keep expectations low."Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557953158158202411.post-53584965444631684642007-01-07T18:44:00.000-08:002007-01-07T18:45:08.781-08:00Ashton, regarding Nicky"Mom, your son isn't the brightest tool in the shed."Bonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12933643444153960212noreply@blogger.com2