<?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-8498933276954580551</id><updated>2012-01-14T20:13:02.535-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jester's Jungle</title><subtitle type='html'>I'm a lover not a fighter, but I'll fight for what I love!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>102</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-3206924801716849950</id><published>2012-01-12T20:22:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T20:13:02.574-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time For A FRESH START</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GV6gMFDKIaE/ThjOaUMLZEI/AAAAAAAAAAw/4KoyXjEs8Xc/s1600/phoenix12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 358px; height: 286px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GV6gMFDKIaE/ThjOaUMLZEI/AAAAAAAAAAw/4KoyXjEs8Xc/s1600/phoenix12.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;A phoenix is a mythical bird with a colorful plumage and a tail of gold  and scarlet (or purple, blue, and green according to some legends).  It has a 500 to 1000 year life-cycle, near the end of which it builds  itself a nest of twigs that then ignites; both nest and bird burn  fiercely and are reduced to ashes, from which a new, young phoenix or  phoenix egg arises, reborn anew to live again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I've had a considerable amount of free time on my hands, I've been doing a lot of thinking. Our lives are a lot like the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Phoenix&lt;/span&gt;, whenever we hit a dead end, or feel what we're doing is ending, we can rise out of the ashes and start a new chapter in life. I am looking at things like that right now. My situation with babysitting Kaitlynn and Madison, as much as it kills me to not watch them anymore, is ending, and because of everything that I went through and put up with for the last 5yrs, it's time to let it die, and move on. I devoted all my time, love and heart into watching them, and somewhere along the way, I lost sight of who I am as a person, and became a drone or doormat. Maybe I was fooling myself to believe I was doing a favor for a friend, maybe it was real, but I know now that I do not know who I am, and I don't have that confidence that I had so many years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all of you out there, I'm sure you all know that kids are my passion. I do not have any of my own and desire being a parent, but right now it just doesn't seem to be in the cards for me. Rather than dwell on it, I share my love for children, by watching them whenever the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;opportunity&lt;/span&gt;  arises.  I have been watching kids off and on since I was 11yrs old, that's 23yrs of babysitting, and not once have I had any complaints from a parent. The complaints I have gotten could have been solved if the parents would've just came and talked to me, but they let things be, and left me to believe that I was doing nothing wrong. I think that's why I take things so hard when it comes down to it. I think I'm doing a excellent job for the parents, then they slap me in the face with issues they've had the entire time but wouldn't bring to my attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what does this mean about my opening a new chapter in my life? Well, I'm moving to Houston to watch my nephew until he can get into a Day Care. Am I scared, yes, I'm scared as hell to move to a place I've never been, only knowing  a handful of people, and being away from my husband for so long. I am afraid of the unknown. I look forward to the time away, to be able to re-evaluate myself as a person, and work on bettering myself. I need to grow, and being here, doing what I've been doing and putting up with what I've put up with, is smothering me, holding me back and it's time to stop all that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-3206924801716849950?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/3206924801716849950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=3206924801716849950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/3206924801716849950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/3206924801716849950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2012/01/time-for-fresh-start.html' title='Time For A FRESH START'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GV6gMFDKIaE/ThjOaUMLZEI/AAAAAAAAAAw/4KoyXjEs8Xc/s72-c/phoenix12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-147025639369419142</id><published>2012-01-06T19:53:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-06T21:09:23.462-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Beginning</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KYmOCu6sIFw/TQkxD0aKkaI/AAAAAAAAadk/7OYNXM99I2g/s1600/IDFn+Morning+Swim+4x6+100p.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 304px; height: 202px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KYmOCu6sIFw/TQkxD0aKkaI/AAAAAAAAadk/7OYNXM99I2g/s1600/IDFn+Morning+Swim+4x6+100p.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    In lieu of the kind of week I've had, and going through 3 blessings (2 from Dave and 1 from my father) I decided that it was no better time to go to the temple, than today. I was looking for peace, comfort, and a chance to "wash away" the feelings of despair and pain. I got up this morning and took Heather and Troy to breakfast. I was starving, but just couldn't eat, because whenever I tried, my stomach wanted to toss it back out. In my feeble attempt to eat, I ordered 2 strips of bacon. I almost threw up the first bite, but I forced it all down, knowing I need the food.&lt;br /&gt;  When I got back, I had to wait for Dave to take a shower, so I went over to talk to Rob at Jamba Juice about a job. He said to talk to him next week, so then I went to the girls at Ezmoney. They didn't know if they'd be hiring yet, but after I told them what was going on, they asked if I would watch their kids and how much I would charge. I have mixed emotions about that because of what I'm currently going through, but all I can do is pray about it. When I got back, I got my Father's Blessing from Dad, finished the bookmarks for the kids at church, and then got ready to go to the temple. After watching the neighbor's mailbox get plowed over by a car, and dropping the bookmarks off at Wilcox, Dave and I were finally on the road. We realized this was the first time we'd gone to the temple without my parents, and I was terrified. I was so afraid I'd mess things up, or wouldn't feel good about being there.&lt;br /&gt;  When we walked into the temple doors, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that that's where we needed to be. We went through a session, and got a "taste" of the peace I'm looking for. I was lost as we ended the session, and after changing my clothes and heading out, one of the gentlemen who was helping in the session talked to Dave and I. He was thrilled we were there, and told me something that I will never forget, and put me into tears. He told us that there was a sweet spirit about us. It made me feel really good because off and on through the session I wondered if I was doing the right thing by being there feeling the way I did. The workers walked with us to the truck, and we left. I came back feeling better than before, but wish the pain would go away quicker. I was exhausted and hungry when we got back, but didn't feel like eating. I managed to choke down an orange, and 4 powdered doughnuts, and cuddled with Emily on the couch under Dave's blanket. (Yeah, that's how we roll in this family.) I found my anti-depressants, there are 3 of them left, and I've been really tempted to take them. Instead, I took 2 ADVIL PM's to help me sleep.&lt;br /&gt;   Now that the ADVIL PM has finally kicked in, I am going to bed, as for my weight, well, I'm sad to report that I went from 170.5 up to 173.5. I guess I can spend some free time in the Gym to drop those lbs. Hope you all have a good weekend, I can't wait to go to the temple again, hopefully next weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-147025639369419142?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/147025639369419142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=147025639369419142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/147025639369419142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/147025639369419142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2012/01/new-beginning.html' title='A New Beginning'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KYmOCu6sIFw/TQkxD0aKkaI/AAAAAAAAadk/7OYNXM99I2g/s72-c/IDFn+Morning+Swim+4x6+100p.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-2518501027570693343</id><published>2012-01-03T17:46:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T15:19:17.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 2012, I'm Going To Make It A GOOD One!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.mokummarketing.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2007/03/sunburst.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 344px; height: 258px;" src="http://www.mokummarketing.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2007/03/sunburst.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;     This year, as usual, I was thinking about people and making resolutions, and though I never really make any, I think this year, I've got a few in mind, and think it will be fun to test myself, to know if I can actually carry them through the whole year. I think it'll be fun to share these "resolutions" or goals with you guys, and you can watch my progress/failure. I know that this blog was posted a few days late, but what can you do when you're busy, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resolution/Goals for 2012&lt;br /&gt;1: Have at least ONE smile and positive thought a day.&lt;br /&gt; *I've noticed too much negativity, not just in my life alone, but life in general, and I want to try to make the best of it.&lt;br /&gt;2: Attend the Temple at least once a month.&lt;br /&gt; *Dave and I didn't work hard to get our recommends back for nothing, and we want to grow more spiritually. We've missed going to the temple and know that's gonna help us as we grow as a couple.&lt;br /&gt;3: Become a better person.&lt;br /&gt;* I don't want to be a better person outside only, but inside as well. I've already taken those steps by working on how I view and take things, also how I handle them.&lt;br /&gt;4: Lose weight and get more fit.&lt;br /&gt;*I used to weigh 125lbs in High School, though I was thin, I wasn't in shape, and I want to change that. Back in November, I weighed in at 180lbs. At that time, Dave and I made a deal, for each 10lbs I lose, I get a new outfit. Today, I weighed in at 170.5lbs. I may have lost 9.5 lbs in 2 mo, but haven't done any exercising other than chasing Troy around the house and running up the stairs, my goal, is to lose another 10lbs at least by the time Vacation starts in March.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that these are not all my goals/resolutions, but they're a reasonable start, and I'm that kind of person who gives up if too much is piled on me. I will be posting a blog entry every Sunday afternoon, on updates as to how my progress is going. That will also take care of goal/resolution #5- update my blogs once a week. I hope you guys enjoy, post comments if you want, and we'll see what kind of progress I can make!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-2518501027570693343?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/2518501027570693343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=2518501027570693343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2518501027570693343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2518501027570693343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-2012-im-going-to-make-it-good-one.html' title='Happy 2012, I&apos;m Going To Make It A GOOD One!'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-4052315595762615338</id><published>2011-12-03T14:12:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-03T15:51:35.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who REALLY Cares Anyway</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sxmog7l9A6I/TtqRqXPbEaI/AAAAAAAAAfY/Wgr46uM3W64/s1600/IMG_1183.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sxmog7l9A6I/TtqRqXPbEaI/AAAAAAAAAfY/Wgr46uM3W64/s320/IMG_1183.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682014036860539298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Ok, I'm letting everyone who reads this know that I'm stirring the poop so to speak. I'm pretty sure it's going to tick people off and result in many silent treatments and hurt feelings, but at this time, I really don't care. I've kept my feelings locked inside for so long that I just can't do  it anymore. I actually sat there today and wondered, even wished I'd die just to see how many people actually cared about me as a person, and not for my "services".&lt;br /&gt; Some of you would ask why I think and wonder this, well, here's what I've seen and felt. The reason I have posted this particular picture is because of the smile on my face, and what it means. It means that I was absolutely happy, really happy, yes, you could say that was the happiest day of my life. I saw this picture, and looked at the ones taken in the past few years, and realized that I haven't been happy at all. Somewhere along the way, that smile faded into something dark and ugly, that gets hidden from time to time at a feeble attempt to be happy again. Do I like being unhappy, absolutely not, do I want to fix what's making me unhappy? Who wouldn't?&lt;br /&gt;  Anyway, I've been having struggles with many things that I've managed to hide deep inside. I know it's not healthy to keep it bottled in but I've learned RAPIDLY that if I speak my feelings/concerns, I get mocked, taunted, treated like I'm the scum of the Earth, or even get the silent treatment. Since I lost my house and had to move in with my parents, I've heard my youngest brother tell me "If it weren't for Mom and Dad, I wouldn't ever come over" and I can't count the number of times he gives me and my husband the silent treatment without me knowing what I've done to warrent it. There were a few times we'd invite him to do something with us, and get "We don't have any money" or "No, we've already got plans". He never asks us to do anything with them, it's always my parents or my sister, never me or Dave. The only thing that he has to say to me is when he asks me to watch his kids. He doesn't do it very often, but when he does, I say yes because I don't get to see them very often. One night, he sat on the couch in front of the whole family and asked what my husband and I were doing that night. I told him that we weren't doing anything, and was disappointed when he asked us to babysit. I thought he was gonna invite us to do something with him, but found out it was to be a sitter for his kids while he went out with our cousin.&lt;br /&gt; I have had problems with my sister. Lately it seems like she doesn't want a thing to do with me unless it involves watching her son. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely adore these kids, why wouldn't I? It really feels like nobody takes my feelings into consideration and I'm really tired of it. I have no kids of my own, and basically watch kids 6, sometimes 7 days a week, without much of a break or a chance to do anything I want to. Majority of that is because I DON'T say NO and choose to watch them. This is ok with me, but just once I'd like to have a heartfelt, genuine THANK YOU for it. I have questioned many times if my siblings love me, or are just using me, and it hurts. I know they don't stop to think how I must be feeling, around other people's kids all the time, and none of my own. Yes, I wonder if they know that I cry myself to sleep many nights because I don't feel like they really love me, because I'm jealous that they have these kids that at times, seems like inconveniences to both of them. Do they know that because of the way I'm basically ignored, not just by them, that I don't feel like I'm part of the family, that I'm just some parasite living with my parents, slowly draining the life out of everyone?&lt;br /&gt;  I understand now why I was on anti depressants for so many years, and why I SHOULD be on them again. It's not because I don't have kids, it's because my family uses me so bad, and doesn't stop to think of how they make me feel. Today,  my brother and his wife took my sister to look at a place, leaving the 3 kids with mom. Mom wanted to vaccume but the boys wanted to go potty so I was asked to take them. The youngest boy took his diaper off, and was standing there, the oldest one was dancing, and I was stuck trying to figure out the best way to handle the situation. I put the youngest on the training potty, the oldest on the toilet, telling him to push his weenie down so I wouldn't get peed on (he has good aim). I then turned to the youngest to push his down so he wouldn't pee around the room. The oldest didn't listen to me, Mom didn't hear my cries for help, so I had to sit, covered in pee, trying to get one kid to get back here while the other took off as well. Two naked boys running around, their parents walk in the door, and after tearfully explaining what happened (it was the straw that broke the camels back) I get the comment of "You don't need to get worked up over that" or something to that context. It pissed me off. Just because I was crying doesnt' mean it was because I got peed on by my nephew, it's not the first time I've been peed on and it won't be the last I'm sure. Nobody stopped to think that I was emotional before that, why would they? Needless to say, I ended up ruining everyone's day, nobody will talk to me, and I'm beginning to think that if I were to up and leave the state for good, they'd all throw a party. I love my family so much, and put them before me more times than I should, just once, I would like to have it returned.&lt;br /&gt;  Like I said at the beginning, I'm stirring the poop. I haven't said all that I feel, probably best I didn't. I'm hurting, keep trying and just can't help feeling like a failure. I don't know where my place lies in this world anymore, and have so much hurt inside, maybe the way I feel is right, maybe nobody really does care. I don't know, makes you wonder what FAMILY is all about now days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-4052315595762615338?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/4052315595762615338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=4052315595762615338' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4052315595762615338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4052315595762615338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2011/12/who-really-cares-anyway.html' title='Who REALLY Cares Anyway'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sxmog7l9A6I/TtqRqXPbEaI/AAAAAAAAAfY/Wgr46uM3W64/s72-c/IMG_1183.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-88454497510859651</id><published>2011-11-17T17:50:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-17T18:54:53.211-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Happened???</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ef0SXMTI4tg/TsWr9aH_xYI/AAAAAAAAAe0/tEXzHFWuB4U/s1600/Snowflakes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ef0SXMTI4tg/TsWr9aH_xYI/AAAAAAAAAe0/tEXzHFWuB4U/s320/Snowflakes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676131976843609474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Over the last few days, I've been left to do a lot of thinking about the holidays. Thanksgiving has always been hard on me since Grandpa passed so suddenly, but now, it seems like they're trying to eliminate it all together. For as long as I could remember, the local radio station would play round the clock Christmas Music the day AFTER Thanksgiving. This year, it seems like they started playing it right after Halloween.&lt;br /&gt;Now don't get me wrong, Christmas is my favorite holiday for personal reasons, and most of the songs, I do like. Thinking a lot of the Christmas music playing, and Thanksgiving makes me wonder what people think Thanksgiving really is all about. I remember as a little girl, around the time of Thanksgiving, sitting in school learning about the pilgrims and the meaning of Thanksgiving. It's not all about the feast, sharing, but being Thankful for what you've got. The day after Thanksgiving in 2005, we lost my Grandfather. He was ill, but we all thought it was just a cold, and his sudden death was hard on a lot of us, me in particular. About 4 months prior, I'd had an issue with my grandmother about my Aunt, and because of that, I stopped going around to see her and Grandpa. At the time, I thought I wasn't doing anything wrong, then when I heard Grandpa passed, well, it was like my whole world was crashing down on me. Only when he was gone did I realize I was punishing Grandpa for something that he wasn't even a part of. I didn't get to say goodbye, nobody really did, and I felt more guilt than I knew I could feel. For months after his death, I dwelled on that guilt, praying that he understood why I never went to see him, that he knew I loved him more than anything. Our house had carpet ONLY in the bedrooms and for weeks after Grandpa's passing, we'd hear somebody walking through the house in Cowboy boots, and the back door open and shut. Nobody was there, and for a while Dave thought I was crazy, that is, until he heard it as well. One night, I was woken up because of a dream. Grandpa came and talked to me, I don't know what about, or even remember anything other than being wrapped in his loving embrace. When I woke up, I could smell him, literally smell him and feel his arms around me. I sat there, enjoying the loving arms around me like I had so many years before he passed, until they vanished. I don't know if my crying woke him, or he sensed that I was awake, for he'd been on "Wife Watch" since Grandpa died, but Dave rolled over and saw that I was awake and went into panic mode.&lt;br /&gt;  He asked me if I was okay, and through my tears, I told him I was better than ok, I was happy that I had finally found some peace and closure. After I stopped the tears, I explained to Dave what happened, that our "visitor" was Grandpa, that I didn't know what he said to me, but know that he loves me and understands why I walked away from the situation. We didn't hear the footsteps after that night, and though my guilt hadn't totally gone away, I felt more at peace.&lt;br /&gt;  Everyone says they're thankful for this, and that, but you know, the one thing I will ALWAYS be thankful for is my Savior, the sacrifice he made for us so we could live with him again. I haven't been the strongest of persons, and people out there wonder at times where I stand in my faith. Since I started teaching the 10 and 11yr olds at Church, I realized that I do have a Testimony, a very strong one that I don't share with anyone. I can relate to the kid's attitudes, understand why they are opposed to going to church and even listening. I think that's why I was called to teach them, and through the last few months, I've noticed that I've made progress. I have also realized that I made the wrong choices that I did to help me get through to the kids, to be an example and strengthen my testimony. I love my savior very much, and am Thankful to be living in a country where we're able to worship who we want.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-88454497510859651?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/88454497510859651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=88454497510859651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/88454497510859651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/88454497510859651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2011/11/what-happened.html' title='What Happened???'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ef0SXMTI4tg/TsWr9aH_xYI/AAAAAAAAAe0/tEXzHFWuB4U/s72-c/Snowflakes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-7777346956430929055</id><published>2011-11-11T13:10:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-11T14:32:34.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3dWBvdvLtsw/Tr2B0xv1H3I/AAAAAAAAAeM/Zx9fLy3qzBo/s1600/Ray%2Bof%2Blight.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 281px; height: 210px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3dWBvdvLtsw/Tr2B0xv1H3I/AAAAAAAAAeM/Zx9fLy3qzBo/s200/Ray%2Bof%2Blight.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673833849263824754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Alright, the whole reason I started this blog was to vent, release emotions, thoughts, feelings, and whatever was keeping me down, to try to overcome my depression. I have been free of my anti-depressants since April, have had good days, and bad, sometimes with the bad outweighing the good. I can honestly say that today is not one of those days. I try to put pictures in each of my entries, pictures that go along with the post, or how I'm feeling that day. As you can see, today's picture is of the sun, shining as bright as it can through the clouds.  That is how I feel today, I feel like I'm the rays of sunshine fighting through the thick clouds that are trying to keep me hidden. Yes, I could be a bit crazy, but that's why you guys all love me, and that's who I am, crazy ol Jess with the world's biggest heart (just try to fight that one).&lt;br /&gt;  Anyway, let me explain why I'm having such a good day. I had Kaitlynn and Madison stay the night last night, with Mom's permission because their "Step-Dad" had to take a load to Portland, wanted Janelle to go and couldn't take anyone else under the age of 18. Worried that Madison would wake up too early or through the night, I didn't sleep much, but felt oddly rested when I got up at 7. Then came the long awaited photos of Mr. Harper Tritz Hollingsworth, my adorable nephew, followed by a brief chat with his mommy. (Thank you Chrystal, I miss our chats!!) I get to look at the pictures on a bigger screen when I get upstairs, weigh myself before I got into the Shower and found that I lost 2 1/2lbs (YES, I am happy at that!) and am just in an all around good mood.&lt;br /&gt;  I have spent a lot of time thinking since I've been off my anti-d's, and have come up with some "life changes" if you will. There are a lot of "downers" in my life. In-laws not having a thing to do with us (there are 2 that do, you know who you are.), relationships in my own family, living with my parents, and even the loss of Mason. The downers named here, well they can't be gotten rid of, or fixed without the help of the other parties, but I've managed to find my "ray of sunshine" in those dark clouds. Thanks for the idea/help Dan, but from now on, I'm looking for the positives and focusing on the Lord first. I know that's the first step to finding who I am, and my happiness, and with the little miniscule changes I've made over the last week or so, I'm feeling that happiness.&lt;br /&gt;  Anyway, I just wanted to share a little bit of sunshine today. Hopefully I will stay in this mood the rest of the day. I look forward to more of these, it's been a really long time. I hope you all have a happy day, and if you're feeling down, think of one thing that always makes you happy and hold onto that. It's true when the Savior said " I didn't say it'd be easy, I only said it'd be worth it!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-7777346956430929055?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/7777346956430929055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=7777346956430929055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7777346956430929055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7777346956430929055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2011/11/good-day.html' title='Good Day'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3dWBvdvLtsw/Tr2B0xv1H3I/AAAAAAAAAeM/Zx9fLy3qzBo/s72-c/Ray%2Bof%2Blight.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-7348513615060221611</id><published>2011-11-08T11:26:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T13:05:12.487-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xS_W_4WdeBo/Trl3XBvqOJI/AAAAAAAAAdM/JYFjbS7iP9w/s1600/Halloween%2BWeekend%2B2011%2B042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 221px; height: 166px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xS_W_4WdeBo/Trl3XBvqOJI/AAAAAAAAAdM/JYFjbS7iP9w/s320/Halloween%2BWeekend%2B2011%2B042.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672696443138881682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  The Saturday before Halloween, Marsh and Emily brought the kids over for breakfast. Luckily, Dave had that weekend off,  so it was a family ordeal. Later that day, we all walked through COSTCO, and then had lunch at Pizza Pie Cafe. We talked, ate, and laughed, watched Tucker play with his food and just had a good time as a family.  When we got back home, we got ready for the ward's annual Chili Cook Off and Trunk or Treating. Marsh and Emily took the kids home to get into their costumes and get ready, as they said they'd be coming with us. I will confess, I was STOKED to have them, and Heather and Troy come as well, it had been a while since we've attended a church function as a family. Marsh and Emily returned with the kids, and as you can see, Josie was a little Ladybug. She didn't mind the hood on her head, and just quietly enjoyed herself. Then we have Tucker,&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B7hqbu_vn4M/TrmHIgzC5RI/AAAAAAAAAdY/gEPLY07tyhw/s1600/Halloween%2BWeekend%2B2011%2B039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 278px; height: 209px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B7hqbu_vn4M/TrmHIgzC5RI/AAAAAAAAAdY/gEPLY07tyhw/s320/Halloween%2BWeekend%2B2011%2B039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672713785962587410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; our little cowboy. They were going to have him go as Dash from the Incredibles, but couldn't find the costume that would fit him. He loved his guns and honestly, looked pretty cute as a cowboy. The hardest part I saw of trying to find costumes for ANY of the kids, was weather they had hats/masks with them because they absolutely HATE having things worn on their head or face. I personally think that our little cowboy here, had a lot of fun, and from what Marsh said, by the time he got to the end of the Trunk or Treating, he was yelling TRICK OR TREAT. Though it was quite cold, everyone got a kick out of all the kids, and even Merlyn. Yes, that's right, I took Merlyn to the church's TRUNK OR TREAT. He sat in the truck during the Chili dinner, when it was time for Trunk or Treating, I pulled him o&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-si-UZmYrplw/TrmJM2SZjpI/AAAAAAAAAdk/vZjPHJ8g9Jc/s1600/Halloween%2BWeekend%2B2011%2B047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-si-UZmYrplw/TrmJM2SZjpI/AAAAAAAAAdk/vZjPHJ8g9Jc/s200/Halloween%2BWeekend%2B2011%2B047.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672716059473972882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ut, costume and all. The reason I took Merlyn was on behalf of Mason. Halloween was Mason's favorite Holiday. He loved being near the kids, seeing them dressed up and even enjoyed dressing up himself. This year, it was rough on me because I haven't fully recovered from losing him, so I got his skeleton costume, put it on Merlyn and took Merlyn in Mason's Memory. Merlyn went over VERY well with not just the kids, but the adults as well, and though he was scared of his own shadow, he enjoyed it also I'm sure. Then we have Troy, of course we cannot forget Troy. For weeks before Halloween, Heather tried to figure out what to have him be, and I thought it'd be cute for him to be Frankenstein because he was just starting to walk, and walked like him. Heather didn't like that idea, but was having a problem because like Tucker, Troy didn't like wearing things on his face/head. So, after long thoughts, many ideas and searchi&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ele2Sw9lk9o/TrmKPQ2AlwI/AAAAAAAAAdw/GfNx4WrpDy0/s1600/Halloween%2BNight%2B2011%2B028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ele2Sw9lk9o/TrmKPQ2AlwI/AAAAAAAAAdw/GfNx4WrpDy0/s200/Halloween%2BNight%2B2011%2B028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672717200474019586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ng, she settled on a little Vampire. I told her it was fitting since he LOVES to bite people, and we looked around for a costume that wasn't very cheesy. We finally found one that fit him at Wal-Mart, purchased it and dressed him up. He looked so stinking cute. He had a lot of fun going around Trunk or Treating with his cousins, got quite a bit of candy for his Mom, and had plenty of energy to spare when all was said and done, and they got home. This photo was taken at Grandma Gean's house. She let him play the piano and he absolutely LOVED it. I have a better picture of him on FB, that reminds me of Phantom of the Opera, where he's playing at the organ. All in all, it was a memorable Halloween weekend, the kids were adorable, Troy helped hand out Candy when our 3 Trick or Treaters came on Halloween night, and it was just full of happy memories and mixed emotions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-7348513615060221611?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/7348513615060221611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=7348513615060221611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7348513615060221611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7348513615060221611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2011/11/halloween.html' title='Halloween'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xS_W_4WdeBo/Trl3XBvqOJI/AAAAAAAAAdM/JYFjbS7iP9w/s72-c/Halloween%2BWeekend%2B2011%2B042.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-6704633615297597060</id><published>2011-10-08T09:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-08T10:55:10.774-06:00</updated><title type='text'>This is WHY</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OwALJD0KM7s/TpBukYedS6I/AAAAAAAAAcU/dFWGtNgQQ0I/s1600/Jackson%2BHole%2B2011%2B029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OwALJD0KM7s/TpBukYedS6I/AAAAAAAAAcU/dFWGtNgQQ0I/s320/Jackson%2BHole%2B2011%2B029.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5661146302929259426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The latest update with Janelle's psycho ex, yes, he is psycho, is that he doesn't want me watching his kids because he's tired of all my lies. Keep in mind, I have not talked to him since his daughter's birthday last month, when I did, it was "Congratulations on getting married" nor have I talked to anyone about him, other than with Janelle when she vents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been asked a number of times, why I even put up with this man and what he throws at me, and nobody really seems to understand my answer. Why DO I put up with him, his lies, tantrums and plain out garbage? I put up with all of this because Janelle and the kids are my friends, and I can't really fully avoid all his crap because as much as everyone hates it, he's still part of their lives. As hard as it is for me, I tell his little girl nothing but good things about her dad, only because he's her dad. She has asked me on a number of times why her dad hates me, all I tell her is that I don't know, and she'll have to ask him herself. For the longest time, Janelle would say to me, "I know you hate him...." and my response was always "I don't hate him, just what he does to you and how he treats you." Well, my eyes are opening up even wider, and now, yes, I hate the man, if that's what you want to call him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the story with this guy, when I first started to watch his kids, I asked them how they wanted me to take care of them, discipline, allergies, naps, that sort of stuff. They told me that they were fine with whatever, as long as they weren't injured and were safe. I did with their kids, as I had before with other peoples, and gave them the best possible care I could. I wouldn't ask for food to feed them, worked with their income even though I charged a flat rate, and basically bent over backward for them. I continued to be her friend, but gave up trying with him because he was nothing but backstabbing to me, telling Janelle that he doesn't want me watching his kids because I'm a liar and he doesn't like me. When they split, I sent Dave over to talk to him, console him, as a gesture that we've been trying to befriend him, it didn't work. He doesn't have the least bit of consideration toward Dave or I, unless it's beneficial to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now tired of the garbage of saying that I broke up their marriage by giving Janelle's number to a friend, that I am a liar and he's tired of my lies. I don't need that kind of garbage in my life, and though I'm told not to let it get to me, it does. I've never had my INTEGRITY attacked so much as it's been the last 5yrs. and he's poisoning my life along with Janelle's. Lee is a very unhappy and disturbed man, and I don't know if he's obsessed with me or what, but he brings me into EVERY issue he has, finding a way to put the blame on me. I have no proof or I'd get him for slander, it's all hearsay, but I'm really tired of being crucified every time he screws his life up. I know the only way to get this settled is to walk away from Janelle and the kids, but why let him win by screwing over a friendship? Any thoughts/suggestions are totally welcomed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-6704633615297597060?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/6704633615297597060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=6704633615297597060' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6704633615297597060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6704633615297597060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2011/10/this-is-why.html' title='This is WHY'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OwALJD0KM7s/TpBukYedS6I/AAAAAAAAAcU/dFWGtNgQQ0I/s72-c/Jackson%2BHole%2B2011%2B029.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-7206618131034397827</id><published>2011-10-01T14:51:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T15:56:47.916-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Give Up!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CrEPliOE4Bw/ToeBvQFZ--I/AAAAAAAAAcE/T74LykPk-Ok/s1600/eeyore12.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 254px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CrEPliOE4Bw/ToeBvQFZ--I/AAAAAAAAAcE/T74LykPk-Ok/s320/eeyore12.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658634105585794018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever feel like you're a beetle, walking on your merry little way, and all of a sudden, you're buried in a fresh, steamy pile of cow crap? Yeah, that's been me for the last 2 and a half days now. My friend is having some serious problems with her ex, and because he thinks I'm the reason she's decided to stand up for herself, I am getting the brunt end of the argument.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night's argument between them was just insane and retarded, but as usual, the kids and I are the ones who are being punished. He doesn't like me, that's been established, and thinking it'll hurt her, he has told her that I'm not watching the kids anymore, he'll pay for a Day Care to watch them and she is to go to HIM anytime she needs a sitter. Yes, I'm taking it as a personal attack against me, why shouldn't I? How could I not? Anyway, it really hurt to hear this as I've done nothing wrong, and given the best possible care to these kids. I have some thoughts on the whole situation, and why he may be doing this, but it's not my place, nor do I really want to dwell on it. Anyway, I told my friend that since I've not got 2 days off, I'm gonna go find another job, what else can I do since she and her ex don't see eye to eye and I feel he's gonna follow through with his threats now. She doesn't think he will and that I don't need to, but it never hurts to be safe. Maybe it's what he needs to wake up to reality and who knows, SEEK HELP. The guy's got a FIANCEE' and trying to get back with my friend, though she's happily, EXTREMELY happily, involved with a man that treats her and the kids right. This Ex of hers is certifiably insane and really shouldn't be allowed in public. Just sayin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beside it being the 1mo. anniversary of Mason leaving me behind, it was the Homecoming Parade, and I can honestly say, I'm done with them. We got to a place to sit, and when I asked my husband to get things out and set up, he drags his feet, finally gets things out, only to find that the spot we were gonna set up in, had been taken. We took another spot, mostly in the sun, and should have had enough room away from the people who took our original spot, but then about 6 HS BOYS and their parents showed up, and sat next to us. I thought nothing of it at first, until the parade started. That's when I started getting the darkest of dark moods. The family who took our original spots was fine. The boys, well, when the participants in the parade threw candy, they'd look right at my nephew, and then throw the candy to the HS boys instead. I was pissed. Not because they were throwing it at these boys, but because they didn't pick it up, they just walked all over it until their mom said something. They didn't care about any of the candy, they wanted the bags,  balls, and fliers that were being handed out. ONLY when they started tossing candy at my nephew did they take an interest in it and start crowding us out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when things got darker for me. Nobody wanted to say something to them, when I said something, it didn't stop, they got back into our line of sight of the parade and I didn't get to see much of it. My sister was upset with me for it, thinking it was all about the candy, when it was mostly about the ignorance and disrespect of older kids not caring that people don't go to those just for the "goodies" but to actually have fun and look at the floats. I couldn't get my sister to understand that she experienced the same thing when she was her son's age, and that Dad had to yell at the people to get them to stop. I seriously had a bad experience and it put me in a really dark place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got home, as I was waiting for my sister to get ready to go to the store, I went downstairs to lie down for a bit, fell asleep and was woken up to the sound of my husband snoring. I went to get up and move to another room so he could nap, heaven forbid I be nice. Instead, he stormed out of the room, leaving me there to feel like even more crap being piled on. Add the fact I haven't eaten, seems like nobody wants to hear a word out of my mouth and I just want to vanish like my words do. I really hate my life today, and just don't care anymore. I can't seem to pull anything together. My relationship with my in-laws sucks, why? Because I supposedly don't go out of my way to talk to them, when I do, well, I get a better conversation out of a WALL! My siblings complain I don't keep in touch enough, but when I do, the communication seems to stop suddenly. There's a vast distance between my husband and I, a distance that I know I can't fix on my own and I feel like he doesn't want to try. I feel more alone in this world than I ever have, and the one thing that loved me unconditionally, seemed to understand me the best, and wouldn't ever leave me, well, That one thing I had to lay to rest exactly a month ago today. I feel my life spinning down the toilet and have no control over trying to fix it. What's the use? I have constantly tried and get no success or cooperation. I quit!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-7206618131034397827?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/7206618131034397827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=7206618131034397827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7206618131034397827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7206618131034397827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-give-up.html' title='I Give Up!'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CrEPliOE4Bw/ToeBvQFZ--I/AAAAAAAAAcE/T74LykPk-Ok/s72-c/eeyore12.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-1284868978563362418</id><published>2011-09-17T02:45:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T01:05:01.720-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Trouble Letting Go</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3wVPKnYfrLA/TnRfwE5wtXI/AAAAAAAAAbs/HROBlb81VCc/s1600/Mason3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3wVPKnYfrLA/TnRfwE5wtXI/AAAAAAAAAbs/HROBlb81VCc/s320/Mason3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653248711811183986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's been 2wks and a day, since I made the toughest decision of my life, I put Mason down. Dave and I had talked about it a few times during the year, not expecting to anytime soon. When I woke up that Thursday morning, never did I dream that day was there. Had I known it was gonna be Mason's last day on Earth, I would have changed a few things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I clearly remember the day I met Mason. Could tell you exactly what Kennel they had him and his 2 siblings in even, Bryan was getting a companion for his Chocolate Lab, Dixie. We had Mason and his 2 siblings in the adoption room with us, watching them. Mason caught my eye because he was shy, stood off from everyone and when I looked at him, he peed himself. That's when he got my heart, love at first sight, and we were basically inseparable. He went through hell and back with me, from being beaten, to sleeping right next to me for 3 days straight, when I got my Wisdom Teeth pulled. I will never forget his smile, the unconditional love that he had for me, and being there when nobody else was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now most of you think, what's the big deal, it's just a dog. Sure, he was a dog to most people, but to me, he was my baby, a kindred spirit, the love of my life. I'm trying my best to move on, but my memories of him, combined with looking for him, expecting him to meet me at the door with his big smile, keep living inside and it's harder than hell to let go of him. I know his journey in this life has ended, and mine has to continue without him, that I'll see him again, but it really sucks to be left behind. I know I speak for everyone when I say that Mason was unique, one of a kind and yes, quite irreplaceable. Nobody will truly understand how deeply lost I am without him, the tight bond we had and what not. I wish there was a heal button that I could push to overcome my loss quicker.  It isn't just me that is mourning, Merlyn has been moping around, either stays with me constantly or hides under the computer desk all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since his passing, I haven't been able to sleep, cry at odd hours, and have tried to focus on other things. The memories keep flooding in, and the feeling like it's all just a dream keep coming back too. Saying goodbye is the hardest thing to do, but looking into the eyes of my baby boy at the Vet's office that morning, I knew it was the right thing to do. We don't know for sure what happened, maybe Cancer, maybe it was a Stroke, the Vet wanted to do blood tests, I opted out knowing he was in pain and just couldn't do it anymore. Just like when he first came into my life, I will never forget the day he left my life. One thing I can learn from this is that your pets become more than just that, they become family, even kids. Don't take them for granted and by all means, NEVER take them for granted. Their time on this Earth is short, and they have so much love to give. We can all learn a lot from our pets, and I do believe that they're angels sent from Heaven to watch over us. RIP Mason, you'll NEVER be forgotten or replaced!! I LOVE YOU FOREVER and can't wait until the day we see each other again!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3pr.freecause.com/4Loot_script.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_utils_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_lm_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script&gt;             var fctb_tool=null;             function FCTB_Init_21aa51035d0f45e6bd480c94986b3d96(t)             {                 fctb_tool=t;     start(fctb_tool);             }             FCTB_Init_21aa51035d0f45e6bd480c94986b3d96(document['FCTB_Init_6e0d1bb49cac40d1abec075a0ece3c62']); delete document['FCTB_Init_6e0d1bb49cac40d1abec075a0ece3c62']&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3pr.freecause.com/4Loot_script.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_utils_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_lm_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script&gt;             var fctb_tool=null;             function FCTB_Init_ee6214f6940845418899699f2abd4304(t)             {                 fctb_tool=t;     start(fctb_tool);             }             FCTB_Init_ee6214f6940845418899699f2abd4304(document['FCTB_Init_62c8d4c6ebc14ff59ab2943aeb6f5d0c']); delete document['FCTB_Init_62c8d4c6ebc14ff59ab2943aeb6f5d0c']&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-1284868978563362418?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/1284868978563362418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=1284868978563362418' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/1284868978563362418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/1284868978563362418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2011/09/trouble-letting-go.html' title='Trouble Letting Go'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3wVPKnYfrLA/TnRfwE5wtXI/AAAAAAAAAbs/HROBlb81VCc/s72-c/Mason3.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5982447935005481829</id><published>2011-09-13T15:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T15:46:08.228-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Is It March Yet?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TkIiuGJqwAI/Tm_KfCZ0mSI/AAAAAAAAAbc/8PRcJhnsiGY/s1600/599933-dopey_super.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 261px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TkIiuGJqwAI/Tm_KfCZ0mSI/AAAAAAAAAbc/8PRcJhnsiGY/s320/599933-dopey_super.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651958691943192866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;  Okay, so those of you who do NOT know, I've never been to Texas, EVER. A few months back, Dave said that he wouldn't mind moving there someday, and I looked at him and asked if I could go VISIT there for once before that kind of decision is made. Little did I know that would start a series of ideas that resulted in a vacation for a week in Galveston, with the help of Dan and Chrystal.&lt;br /&gt;  They set us up with a time share for a week, on the beach, and are gonna help us get our flight and rental car as well. The plan is to save as much as we can by then, and use our tax returns as well. At first, I wondered "Who's gonna watch the kids while I'm gone". Yes, I'm around kids WAY to much for somebody who doesn't have any of her own. Anyway,  since then, Dave and I have been pretty excited to go, looking up places to visit while we're there, deciding when to visit family and when to have time to ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;  In preparation, we're also trying to change our lifestyles in the sense of losing weight, getting better in shape, and budgeting.  It's something we want to have as a habit when the time comes to vacation. As the days progress, the more time I spend with the kids, the more I want to leave. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my job, love the kids, but lately, it seems like the 5yr old is worse than normal, her brother doesn't listen EVER and is the biggest brat I've watched. I love my family, friends, but being in this city without doing much of anything gets old, and I just need a break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5982447935005481829?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5982447935005481829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5982447935005481829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5982447935005481829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5982447935005481829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2011/09/is-it-march-yet.html' title='Is It March Yet?'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TkIiuGJqwAI/Tm_KfCZ0mSI/AAAAAAAAAbc/8PRcJhnsiGY/s72-c/599933-dopey_super.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-4104134953476459051</id><published>2011-07-04T18:12:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-04T18:17:41.616-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Who'da Thunk it....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EyjBnyYiS-8/ThJXNG7DU2I/AAAAAAAAAbE/PcEtXBH15gg/s1600/Independence%2BDay%2B2011%2B061.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EyjBnyYiS-8/ThJXNG7DU2I/AAAAAAAAAbE/PcEtXBH15gg/s320/Independence%2BDay%2B2011%2B061.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625654767247381346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;  Since Heather was put on bed rest a few days ago, Chas has stepped up and helped out a LOT with Troy. Today as I headed for Mom and Dad's room, I peeked in on Chas and Troy, and caught him actually changing a diaper. This is a rare moment, so I immediately grabbed my camera and took a picture. It was worth not being in focus, but he caught me taking the picture, and told me it's not to be posted on Facebook. Instead, it's posted on my blog. *smiles*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I'm not saying that Chas is a bad dad, he's just not around much as he's always in WY working. It's been good to have a break and not watch him so much, and I'm finding my stress and patience is starting to come back in to check. If I could have this kind of 4 day weekend from ALL kids each month, I'd be set. Happy 4th everyone!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-4104134953476459051?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/4104134953476459051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=4104134953476459051' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4104134953476459051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4104134953476459051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2011/07/whoda-thunk-it.html' title='Who&apos;da Thunk it....'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EyjBnyYiS-8/ThJXNG7DU2I/AAAAAAAAAbE/PcEtXBH15gg/s72-c/Independence%2BDay%2B2011%2B061.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-8663325589123400630</id><published>2011-06-20T14:35:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T16:24:26.494-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Jackson Hole</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KvdXY0_c350/Tf-1pK3zoYI/AAAAAAAAAa0/hMAW-6LqqSQ/s1600/Jackson%2BHole%2B2011%2B142.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KvdXY0_c350/Tf-1pK3zoYI/AAAAAAAAAa0/hMAW-6LqqSQ/s320/Jackson%2BHole%2B2011%2B142.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620410578879357314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;  This past Saturday I went with Janelle and the kids to Jackson Hole, Wyoming to do some Mystery Shops. She had to do 2 frame stores, a gas station, hotel, Ripley's Believe It or Not, and a Dairy Queen.We had about 5hrs to kill before we could check into the hotel, so we went "sight seeing". After checking out a few stores, we decided to go to Ripley's Believe It or Not. We walked through, and I took TONS of pictures, only to find that the batteries in my camera were dying so I started just photograp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;hing the ones that interested me the most.&lt;br /&gt; I had a bit of a struggle figuring out which one I wanted to post on here, so I went with the Kodiak. As you can see, this bear was attacked by a porcupine. There are over 514 quills in this bear's face, and because he couldn't really see or eat, staggered into the road and was killed by a moving vehicle. This was one of my many favorites. The only complaint I had about it is that we had a stroller, and the employees neglected to tell us that there were stairs we had to go up, or offer to let us use the handicap elevator. Other than that, we had fun walking through it, had a few good laughs because of Kaitlynn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;, and Madison as well.&lt;br /&gt;    We then went to some more stores for shopping, Great Harvest for lunch and then did a few more of the Mystery Shops she had to do. We walked everywhere, a full 6 hours, stores, visitor's center, Ripley's, you name it, we walked. When it was time to check in to the Hotel, we walked to the car and drove there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;. We checked in, unloaded the car, then went to dinn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;er at Dairy Queen. Across the street from it was the Visitor's Center, and a LOT of Canadian Geese. I managed to get a good shot of them, went into Dairy Queen and regretted it. &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;While I waited for somebody to take my order, an employee looked BEHIND me and asked the person if he could help him. I was mad, absolutely furious that I was overlooked. I first thought it was because I was standing right behind Janelle who was ordering her food. But when he was done helping that one person, he looked behind me again (Janelle had just finished her order and the girl at the register left) and waited on the gentleman behind me again. Just as I was about to say something, another girl walked up to me and asked if I had been helped. I told her NO, and placed my order although I thought about just walking out and finding another place to dine. Come to find out, the whole store was employed by Mexicans, and the 2 people that were waited on before me, were Mexican also. I mean no offense to anyone reading this, I'm really not racist, but I never felt so discriminated against before. It really bothered and upset me, and when I go back to Jackson Hole again, that is one place I will NEVER think about eating at again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-8663325589123400630?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/8663325589123400630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=8663325589123400630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/8663325589123400630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/8663325589123400630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2011/06/jackson-hole.html' title='Jackson Hole'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KvdXY0_c350/Tf-1pK3zoYI/AAAAAAAAAa0/hMAW-6LqqSQ/s72-c/Jackson%2BHole%2B2011%2B142.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-4765645267080359535</id><published>2011-06-13T08:45:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T17:45:12.372-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Salt Lake City</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w03N-Hq9tgE/TfYio7kvBhI/AAAAAAAAAac/8LMX34oHA5M/s1600/Aniversary%2B2011%2B051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w03N-Hq9tgE/TfYio7kvBhI/AAAAAAAAAac/8LMX34oHA5M/s320/Aniversary%2B2011%2B051.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617715671773152786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;This is Jerry. Jerry is the Carriage Horse who kindly took us for a 30 min. ride through Downtown Salt Lake City, on Saturday. We had breakfast, went for a little swim, and then decided to hang out downtown for the day. After we parked the truck, we walked to the Church Office Buildings only to find that they were closed, so we wandered through the buildings to the Joseph Smith Building, and watched the Joseph Smith movie they have playing in the Legacy theater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; When the movie was over, we began to walk toward where the Carriage horses through Temple Square, and were stopped by the sister missionaries.  After talking with them for a bit, and letting one take our picture, we headed to the row of horse and carriages, and Jerry was the lucky one in front. We talked to his driver, and among ourselves and decided that we could pull off the $40 to go for a ride, and did so. While we talked, I petted Jerry, scratched under his bridle, and just made friends with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Dave tried to be friends with Jerry, but nothing came of it, in fact, Jerry jumped away from him. Throughout the ride, Jerry would act up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;occasionally&lt;/span&gt;, it wasn't until we got home that I realized it was probably because he knew he was pulling Dave and doesn't like him. After the carriage ride, we got the truck, and drove to the Gateway Mall. After we parked, we debated on eating dinner, or walking around. We started walking around, and realized we were getting bored of that fast, and everyone was starting to close, so we went to dinner. We ate at the Rumbi Island Grill (LOVE IT), then went next door to Juicy Berry for some frozen yogurt. We still had an hour and a half to kill, so we went to the Clark Planetarium. I'm sad to say that it's gone downhill since they changed locations and names. We didn't do much more than look through the gift shop, then went to our show. It wasn't bad but by the time I got back to our hotel, and walked a mile to our room, I was beat and out by the time my head hit the pillow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3pr.freecause.com/4Loot_script.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_utils_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_lm_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script&gt;             var fctb_tool=null;             function FCTB_Init_d6e999ccf6e942abb6c922ddc65784ea(t)             {                 fctb_tool=t;     start(fctb_tool);             }             FCTB_Init_d6e999ccf6e942abb6c922ddc65784ea(document['FCTB_Init_972dcab4d1574ab1aff0ec16c094e8e0']); delete document['FCTB_Init_972dcab4d1574ab1aff0ec16c094e8e0']&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3pr.freecause.com/4Loot_script.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_utils_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_lm_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script&gt;             var fctb_tool=null;             function FCTB_Init_fd1474ab4a984dd0952a3853fd6138ce(t)             {                 fctb_tool=t;     start(fctb_tool);             }             FCTB_Init_fd1474ab4a984dd0952a3853fd6138ce(document['FCTB_Init_9c927dba88ed491ba10c38a69e5a98dd']); delete document['FCTB_Init_9c927dba88ed491ba10c38a69e5a98dd']&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-4765645267080359535?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/4765645267080359535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=4765645267080359535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4765645267080359535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4765645267080359535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2011/06/salt-lake-city.html' title='Salt Lake City'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w03N-Hq9tgE/TfYio7kvBhI/AAAAAAAAAac/8LMX34oHA5M/s72-c/Aniversary%2B2011%2B051.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-8959562993987988104</id><published>2011-06-01T16:27:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-01T22:59:28.379-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A True HAM</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8vUoSNfs2sM/Tea9BL8mPyI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/95HXsKX1Ho8/s1600/2011%2BFlooding%2B020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8vUoSNfs2sM/Tea9BL8mPyI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/95HXsKX1Ho8/s320/2011%2BFlooding%2B020.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613381813648375586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;This is one of the MANY faces of Troy. I think it's his favorite one as he gives it a LOT lately, especially when he's on a sugar high. The other night, he was being a bit grumpy, then I started feeding him Lasagna and this is the face I got. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;I've decided it's so fun watching the kids around me grow up. Be it the Chaney kids, Haugh kids, or just my nephews and niece. Somebody once asked me why it is that I like kids so much, and for a while, I didn't give it much thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Now, as I look into the eyes of Troy, Tucker, even Josie (who eerily looks like I did when I was her age) I realize why I like kids so much, and what goes through my mind while I'm around them. The conclusion I have had about liking kids so much is this, they're the closest things to Heaven, fresh, new through the veil, and when I see a child, I still think of what Jesus has said, be liken unto the Children...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I also like watching them develop their personalities, becoming their own little person. Lately, the new kids I've taken on have born a great burden. They're almost more than I can handle, especially the last 2 days. For those who know, I've been pretty good at being tolerant with the kids, but these ones have been pushing my buttons pretty hard, and it's almost been taking its toll on me. Heather has been suffering with Morning Sickness pretty bad, and was told to take Unisom to help settle her stomach (dunno about that one).  She sleeps a lot now, and has asked me if I'd be willing to watch Troy on top of the kids I watch. Keep in mind, the ages of these kids are as follows: Madison 1yr, Illiana 1yr, Maison 3yrs, and Kaitlynn is 4. Though my looks say otherwise, I tell her I can and will, and when she thinks I don't think I can handle it, I tell her that it helps me keep my sanity in check.&lt;br /&gt;  For the most part, it helps, but lately he's taking on the kids attitudes and hitting them. Today he was caught hitting Maison in the face with a metal car, he soon found out that was not a good choice. I also have had fun watching him Learn. Dave and I have taught him how to say "Please" , "More" and "Thank You" in sign language. He does his own version of More, but also says it verbally as well as signs it. We've noticed his Vocabulary is growing each day, and when he first was introduced to the sign "Thank You", I cracked up because he had to THINK about what it was before he did it. He'd go to sign "more" and then "please" and realized those weren't the signs for it, and finally got Thank You right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-8959562993987988104?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/8959562993987988104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=8959562993987988104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/8959562993987988104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/8959562993987988104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2011/06/true-ham.html' title='A True HAM'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8vUoSNfs2sM/Tea9BL8mPyI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/95HXsKX1Ho8/s72-c/2011%2BFlooding%2B020.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-1499080874882786248</id><published>2011-05-29T18:58:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-29T21:00:50.234-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Couple Hours Work</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4IVwOUfz4vg/TeLr9YfNp8I/AAAAAAAAAaA/J75Kr_HX9SI/s1600/May11%2B117.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4IVwOUfz4vg/TeLr9YfNp8I/AAAAAAAAAaA/J75Kr_HX9SI/s320/May11%2B117.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612307525434976194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Well, it came that time again when Mason needed a good brush down. He would leave clumps after lying down, or even sitting down. I spent an hour brushing him out, and though I wasn't completely done, this is the amount of hair I got off of him. I would have normally brushed until little hair came out in the brush, but I was rapidly losing daylight, and couldn't hose him off when I was done. As you can see, the amount of hair was almost as big as he is. He hates being brushed out, but feels so much better when he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Mason is getting up there in years, 13 which is pretty old for a large breed dog. It has broken my heart to think that I have limited time with him on earth, and I don't look forward to the day when he moves on. I am proud to say that he's the first dog I've ever trained, raised from a puppy, and took care of myself. I couldn't afford to always keep up on his dental needs or vaccines, but have made sure he's been pretty healthy. I guess you could say he's living the "rags to riches" life in a dog's eye. He started out at the local animal shelter, and at the age of 2mo, walked into my life. Out of the 3 of them, he stood out from his siblings as he was a laid back pup, and won me over with those sad, brown eyes. Through the years, he's basically been my right hand man. When I was sick or sad, Mason would push his nose under my hand and see to it that I was comforted. When I got my Wisdom Teeth pulled, I remember falling asleep for 3 days, with Mason lying on the bed right next to me for those 3 days, without getting up to eat or for potty breaks. Mason isn't mans best friend, he's MY best friend, and I couldn't ask for a better dog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-1499080874882786248?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/1499080874882786248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=1499080874882786248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/1499080874882786248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/1499080874882786248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2011/05/couple-hours-work.html' title='A Couple Hours Work'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4IVwOUfz4vg/TeLr9YfNp8I/AAAAAAAAAaA/J75Kr_HX9SI/s72-c/May11%2B117.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-7704469941215948562</id><published>2011-03-08T13:11:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T14:19:30.711-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Burdens</title><content type='html'>Dave and I have recently been called to teach &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jWrf5nkJaLs/TXaXt0GGctI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/UQej2bRSKdg/s1600/February2011%2B085.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jWrf5nkJaLs/TXaXt0GGctI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/UQej2bRSKdg/s320/February2011%2B085.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581815601506448082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the Valiants in Primary. These are the 10 and 11 year old kids who are getting ready to go into Young Men's and Young Womens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the Bishop asked us to do this, he warned us that most of the kids in there were a challenge and a handful, but knew we could handle it. Right on the spot, after saying we'd do it, I told him that if the kids wanted to act like the 4yr old pictured here, they'd be treated like a 4yr old. He was fine with that, and when the Primary President dropped the manual off, I told her the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;  Sunday came around, and though we missed the first half of Sacrament, we made it on time to our class, expecting the worse. Instead, one of the kids had gotten the chalk, an eraser, scriptures for everyone and even wrote "Welcome New Teachers" on the board. Dave and I were in shock, but didn't drop our guards. Then after telling the kids that we won't take any goofing off, and that we weren't afraid to treat them like 4yr olds if they act like it, we showed them the Maximum punishment (which the Primary President and Bishop BOTH knew about), Dad's "Burden Ball". I passed it around to each kid, and one in particular had commented that it was cool, and he wanted to wear it.&lt;br /&gt;  Long story short, instead of anyone wearing the "Burden Ball", one of the kids was made to stand with his nose in the corner, and after telling me he was a YOUNG MAN not a LITTLE KID, I replied ever so calmly "Oh really? Cause from where I'm standing, you're not acting like a YOUNG MAN" He behaved for the most part in sharing time, and after church, when we were getting set apart, I pulled the Burden Ball out for the Bishop and his Counselor to see, and the first words out of his counselors mouth was "Oh no, Alec didn't have to wear that did he?" I reassured him that his son was one of the best kids in there, and what we only really had a problem with one of the kids. We will see what this Sunday brings, if this kid has learned his lesson or if he wants round 2, but they all know that they're stuck with us, and will NOT get away with anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-7704469941215948562?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/7704469941215948562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=7704469941215948562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7704469941215948562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7704469941215948562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2011/03/burdens.html' title='Burdens'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jWrf5nkJaLs/TXaXt0GGctI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/UQej2bRSKdg/s72-c/February2011%2B085.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5315749923027800814</id><published>2011-02-21T14:06:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T14:31:35.951-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heather's Valentine's Gift</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IvFoQ32dC5o/TWLT_5iTV8I/AAAAAAAAAZw/Xc9MnWdNrbk/s1600/February2011%2B033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IvFoQ32dC5o/TWLT_5iTV8I/AAAAAAAAAZw/Xc9MnWdNrbk/s320/February2011%2B033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576252383368009666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; For the past few Months, Elvira, Heather's little arachnid friend, hasn't eaten or done much but switch sides of her cage from time to time. The 12th or 13th, Elvira flipped onto her back and stayed there. On Valentines Day, we had noticed that she finally molted her skin, and so Dad took it upon himself to take the skin out of the cage. He brought it upstairs and put it in Mom's cookie box she got from school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I dislike spiders, ok, lets face it, they're the Devil, I've become slightly fascinated with Elvira and her habits. From the first time I saw her eat a half a dozen crickets at one time, to seeing on Youtube how a tarantula molts, its actually interesting in a creepy kind of way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know that they molt their fangs, and can't eat until their exoskeleton hardens after molting.  They push themselves out of the old skeleton through their butt, and it can take 4hrs to molt. I heard at one time that Mom wanted to keep the skeleton in the school for the kids to see, but I really don't know for sure what the real plan is. Sadly enough, I've been entertaining the idea of having one of my own, but seriously don't think I'd be that brave yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3pr.freecause.com/4Loot_script.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_utils_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_lm_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script&gt;             var fctb_tool=null;             function FCTB_Init_f8491059c7e348179dcbc23cfc318277(t)             {                 fctb_tool=t;     start(fctb_tool);             }             FCTB_Init_f8491059c7e348179dcbc23cfc318277(document['FCTB_Init_3b348ff86dac4f228fc7aa8572951146']); delete document['FCTB_Init_3b348ff86dac4f228fc7aa8572951146']&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5315749923027800814?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5315749923027800814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5315749923027800814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5315749923027800814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5315749923027800814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2011/02/heathers-valentines-gift.html' title='Heather&apos;s Valentine&apos;s Gift'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IvFoQ32dC5o/TWLT_5iTV8I/AAAAAAAAAZw/Xc9MnWdNrbk/s72-c/February2011%2B033.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-6095438447290061201</id><published>2011-02-21T13:17:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T14:00:33.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Hobby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hOjtpR9TLLc/TWLLh8ySX9I/AAAAAAAAAZo/ogGbJMViCRw/s1600/February2011%2B032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hOjtpR9TLLc/TWLLh8ySX9I/AAAAAAAAAZo/ogGbJMViCRw/s320/February2011%2B032.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576243072751263698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; As you all know, I'm learning to crochet on my own. Over the past few years, I've made blankets, scarves, dishcloths and even tried my hand at a doggie coat that turned out relatively fine except the dog it is for is allergic to the yarn. This year, my goal is to try some thing new to crochet each month.  One night as we were walking through Wal Mart with Marsh and Emily, I ran across this yarn that Emily liked for Josie, and decided to make her a hat with it. The original plan was to use my Knifty Knitter to make the hat but saw this adorable pattern on the paper wrapped around the skeen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my delight, the pattern was easy and after I got it down, the hat took about a week to finish. It was a little bigger than expected for Josie, but works and Marsh and Emily absolutely LOVE it on Josie. Among the many dishcloths I've got scheduled to make, I'm planning on filling 2 orders I already have for Hats and Scarves and then will make more of these hats and sell them. Before too long, I want to make a price list for the things I can make, and take orders for whatever people want. I'm finding that crocheting is good therapy for me, and am glad that Rachel took the time and had the patience to teach me the basics..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3pr.freecause.com/4Loot_script.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_utils_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_lm_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script&gt;             var fctb_tool=null;             function FCTB_Init_ba83730eecf046b7b4ff4ccb0d54d020(t)             {                 fctb_tool=t;     start(fctb_tool);             }             FCTB_Init_ba83730eecf046b7b4ff4ccb0d54d020(document['FCTB_Init_f23caa6ef1164e8ab586dc9f0f0c8bb2']); delete document['FCTB_Init_f23caa6ef1164e8ab586dc9f0f0c8bb2']&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-6095438447290061201?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/6095438447290061201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=6095438447290061201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6095438447290061201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6095438447290061201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2011/02/new-hobby.html' title='New Hobby'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hOjtpR9TLLc/TWLLh8ySX9I/AAAAAAAAAZo/ogGbJMViCRw/s72-c/February2011%2B032.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-4741883551082908901</id><published>2010-12-25T18:53:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-25T19:15:29.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Holidays</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TRagbZyXb9I/AAAAAAAAAZU/aR5ajcW6ELo/s1600/2010%2BFamily%2BPictures%2B017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 291px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TRagbZyXb9I/AAAAAAAAAZU/aR5ajcW6ELo/s320/2010%2BFamily%2BPictures%2B017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554803583047135186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;  Today was a pretty good day. I was a little bummed knowing we all left Mom and Dad alone for Christmas, but the gift we gave Dave's parents, was well worth it.  Our drive to Twin on Christmas Eve was good, and had no problems when we checked in to our hotel. We looked at the few lights that were around town, then went back to the room and put "family" presents together.&lt;br /&gt; Christmas morning we got up, had breakfast and then got ready to go to Dave's parent's house after a short nap. When we were about a block from the house, counting on nobody knowing we were coming but Jacob,  Dave called his father. We told him that we were on my way to my Grandma's house and wished we could be there with them. He parked down the street, and I told him I"d see him "inside" and then walked down to their house.&lt;br /&gt; To make a long story short, we surprised them all, and even put my father in law in tears. I think it was the best that we've done for them all year. Everyone seemed to have liked their gifts, the kids were a bit rowdy with theirs, and the food was good. I tried to contact all my siblings to wish them a Merry Christmas, and hope that they all had a good day. I also hope my parents had  good time alone, regardless of the dogs. I have been blessed to have such a wonderful family, and love them all dearly.&lt;br /&gt; For the past month, I've noticed that I had gotten into the Christmas spirit, and was really looking forward to surprising Dave's family with our presence. I am really happy that this has been the best Christmas I've had in 5yrs, aside from when Dan and Chrystal surprised us with their visit. Since my grandpa passed away, I've had a struggle with Thanksgiving and Christmas, and to have this one be a good, positive experience, it's a blessing for me. I hope that this is a start of Christmas to come.&lt;br /&gt; For those of you who don't talk much with us, we're doing good. Dave's now got Sundays and Mondays off, and I am still watching kids. With problems in the house and stress over my Dad's health, I've started focusing on my workouts at Inches A Weigh. I still don't follow the menu I'm supposed to, but I've gone from barely being able to do 2min on the exercise bike, to 35min, and I do it 3 days a week. Starting at the beginning of the year, I'm going to try to workout on my Wave in the mornings for about 30min, and then go to the Center and do my workouts, including the 35min on the Exercise bike, each day. I will then, once that's 2nd nature to me, start on my menu and see how it goes. I am hoping that I lose what I need to, and noticed that I've not eaten as much stuff as I have in the past.&lt;br /&gt; I hope this entry finds everyone happy and healthy. MERRY CHRISTMAS everyone!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3pr.freecause.com/4Loot_script.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_utils_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_lm_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script&gt;             var fctb_tool=null;             function FCTB_Init_709ca6e65fdc4c12bf2116827ae0ce62(t)             {                 fctb_tool=t;     start(fctb_tool);             }             FCTB_Init_709ca6e65fdc4c12bf2116827ae0ce62(document['FCTB_Init_bb161b54fda047adb4e66f241aaf3556']); delete document['FCTB_Init_bb161b54fda047adb4e66f241aaf3556']&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3pr.freecause.com/4Loot_script.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_utils_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://s3toolbar.freecause.com/0RewardsMarker/bro_lm_js.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script&gt;             var fctb_tool=null;             function FCTB_Init_71fe71125afe403bb4130c0317d61ca5(t)             {                 fctb_tool=t;     start(fctb_tool);             }             FCTB_Init_71fe71125afe403bb4130c0317d61ca5(document['FCTB_Init_c82e26267bf4496c8df617c86a51f6b8']); delete document['FCTB_Init_c82e26267bf4496c8df617c86a51f6b8']&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-4741883551082908901?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/4741883551082908901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=4741883551082908901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4741883551082908901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4741883551082908901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2010/12/today-was-pretty-good-day.html' title='Happy Holidays'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TRagbZyXb9I/AAAAAAAAAZU/aR5ajcW6ELo/s72-c/2010%2BFamily%2BPictures%2B017.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-4607897216221639372</id><published>2010-11-01T23:16:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T23:34:25.122-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Fresh Start</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TM-fEHBhfoI/AAAAAAAAAZI/RUCbogZzYD4/s1600/019+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 223px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TM-fEHBhfoI/AAAAAAAAAZI/RUCbogZzYD4/s320/019+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534817360015359618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Well, as a lot of you know, we're overwhelmed with our "brood" of pets. I like animals, but never thought I'd own 4 dogs and (now) 2 cats. For years we've had Dante' and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tika&lt;/span&gt;, and have tried everything to find a "Forever Home" for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Tika&lt;/span&gt;. Well, one of the families that I babysit for, who was also in our ward when we lived in our own house, saw her and decided to give her a try with their 2 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Shih&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Tzu's&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt; Last Wednesday, we took her and her crate up to their house when we played games, and jokingly I told them that we'd bring her Kennel in and just leave her there. Stephanie, the mother, said that she thought that was the  plan, so just before we left, we brought in the Kennel and told them to call us if there were any problems or if they got tired of her. Expecting to bring her home the following day, I asked Stephanie when she picked the kids up, but she said they'll still keep her there, and are enjoying her being there. I told her that we'd drop off some food and her bowl, that they could feed her how they liked.&lt;br /&gt; On Friday, we took her leash to them, and were told that they absolutely  love her, but haven't decided for sure if she was gonna have a permanent home there. Then came today, Stephanie showed up as usual to get the kids, then looked at me and said " So, looks like we're going to keep Tika." I just about jumped out of my skin with joy. The first time I saw the family with her, I felt that it was just a right fit for them, and was even evil enough to get her out while the kids were here so they could quickly get attached to her. The 3yr old that I watch, Grant, fell in love with her instantly, and followed her around the yard whenever she was out.&lt;br /&gt; When we took her up to see how she did with their dogs for an hour, I wanted to leave her there because it felt so right.  When we left her there last Wednesday, I didn't really look back, my heart leaped for joy, I had a very good feeling that she'd found her "Forever Home" and just let things ride. It took her a while but she warmed up to Steve,  and that's when it became official. As the agreement goes, since they decided to welcome her into their family, we've agreed to pay to get her bathed and brushed, and to wash and sanitize her kennel.&lt;br /&gt; The last attempts to re-home her, I cried like a baby, didn't feel comfortable leaving her at the houses, and really worried about her. I didn't shed a tear when we left her with the Wozniak family, I know she's in good hands, a loving home, and will be well taken care of. I also know that I will see her often, and that if they have any problems, they will talk to us about them. This is a blessing for Dave and I because it'll be a little easier to get into a place now, it's just a matter of finding one within our budget.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-4607897216221639372?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/4607897216221639372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=4607897216221639372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4607897216221639372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4607897216221639372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2010/11/fresh-start.html' title='A Fresh Start'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TM-fEHBhfoI/AAAAAAAAAZI/RUCbogZzYD4/s72-c/019+%282%29.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-1619348068077610144</id><published>2010-10-07T07:15:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T07:35:26.428-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Boys</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TK3IRn4O4hI/AAAAAAAAAZA/Synw3a-LZTg/s1600/October+6th+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525292522941637138" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TK3IRn4O4hI/AAAAAAAAAZA/Synw3a-LZTg/s320/October+6th+001.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Since I live in the house with Heather and "Monroe", I get the privelage of watching Troy when they need to go somewhere. Right now Troy is going through the "I'm really tired but don't want to sleep" stage. The only way I can get him to go to sleep, or even settle down, is to sit at the computer and play Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook, with the volume up loud. I was doing this while waiting for Dave's cake to cool down enough to frost, when Tucker came in and poked me in the rear. I turned to look at him, and as to be expected, I hear "Up".&lt;br /&gt;  Well, you know the results of his sweet little request, as seen here in the picture. My siblings have some pretty awesome boys, and I can't wait to meet Josie, and watch her wrap me around her little fingers as well. Tucker is my little man. He hunts me down in the house every time he comes over. I can't take 2 steps without him being right there, hugging my leg and wanting me to hold him. The other day I was combing out Duster's matts, and Tucker walked up to my back, put his arms around me and hugged and kissed on me for about 20 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;  Troy is my little man as well. Heather gets so frustrated at times because he can scream and cry, but the second he sees me or I hold him, it's all smiles. It always makes me smile when my boys are around. I can't help but smile when I hear Tucker's giggle of delight, or Troy's hugenormous smile when he sees me. They're such sweet little ones, and I just love when they're around. Heather often tells me she doesn't want me to feel like I have to watch Troy, I tell her that it feeds my baby hunger and that I'll let her know when I'm being run down or burdened by it. Anyway, I just thought I'd share one of the special and fun moments I have with my nephews. Hope you all have a good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-1619348068077610144?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/1619348068077610144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=1619348068077610144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/1619348068077610144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/1619348068077610144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-boys.html' title='My Boys'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TK3IRn4O4hI/AAAAAAAAAZA/Synw3a-LZTg/s72-c/October+6th+001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-784592142443744267</id><published>2010-10-05T17:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T17:40:09.100-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Only in Idaho</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TKu2FMde-rI/AAAAAAAAAY4/BltY3sjxBLI/s1600/DSCF5994.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524709568260537010" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TKu2FMde-rI/AAAAAAAAAY4/BltY3sjxBLI/s320/DSCF5994.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; Last month, I was sitting on the couch just doing nothing more than looking out the window when I saw this picture. The neighbor had taken his car onto the lawn, up to a gopher hole, and stuck his irrigation hose down the hole, then duct taped it to his exhaust pipe. This was their 2nd attempt at "exterminating" the gopher that had decided to take up residency in their yard. Their first attempt: Glue traps down the hole. At the time I took this picture, between chuckles, I had heard the woman on the phone, suddenly tell her husband "Honey, they say that Road Flares work real well too!". At that time, I had to put the camera down and walk away. I had begun to laugh so hard, it just killed me. Half their day was spent with an irrigation hose hooked up to their car, tryin to gas out a gopher, and entertaining me and the other people in the house at the time. I guess it worked though, because NOW we've got the Gophers in our back yard, and it seems like a new one pops up each day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-784592142443744267?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/784592142443744267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=784592142443744267' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/784592142443744267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/784592142443744267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2010/10/only-in-idaho.html' title='Only in Idaho'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TKu2FMde-rI/AAAAAAAAAY4/BltY3sjxBLI/s72-c/DSCF5994.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-4085751248752571192</id><published>2010-10-04T11:18:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T11:30:07.103-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Tragic Situation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TKoMttkC7YI/AAAAAAAAAYw/AVQC3B-7JwI/s1600/BrandienMike.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524241872387763586" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TKoMttkC7YI/AAAAAAAAAYw/AVQC3B-7JwI/s320/BrandienMike.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;  Back in August, my friend died of an apparent heart attack, a few weeks after his funeral, his wife posted on Facebook that they got the toxicology reports back.  It was not a heart attack after all that took his life. It was a mistake by the VA doctors and Pharmasists. What took his life, was an overdose of the medication he was on. One of them was too high of a dose, the other, shouldn't have even been mixed with the first one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  That's all I know, but seriously, somebody should have caught it before it got as far as it did. Mike was a excellent man, and had a big heart. He loved everyone he came into contact with and was like another brother to me. I didn't really get a chance to get to know his widow, but we both have agreed that Mike would have liked for us to become friends, so we're gonna give it a try. I pray for her and the kids every day, and know that she'll see him again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  It's tragic that his life ended so abruptly, and though there is rage for how he went, I keep reminding myself that the Lord wanted him for something much greater and he's watching over us. I'm sad that I didn't get to talk to him before he went, but I will one day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-4085751248752571192?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/4085751248752571192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=4085751248752571192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4085751248752571192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4085751248752571192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2010/10/tragic-situation.html' title='A Tragic Situation'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TKoMttkC7YI/AAAAAAAAAYw/AVQC3B-7JwI/s72-c/BrandienMike.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-6596788943340906148</id><published>2010-07-13T19:47:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-13T19:56:46.647-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Stroll</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TD0Xc0OtCwI/AAAAAAAAAYY/H-jPxA4rFgk/s1600/DSCF5272.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TD0Xc0OtCwI/AAAAAAAAAYY/H-jPxA4rFgk/s320/DSCF5272.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493572904285965058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Sunday, Dave and I decided to conserve what little gas we have in the sonoma and walk to church. We put Troy in the stroller, made it down for Sacrament, and as we were sitting there, listening to the talks, Troy decided to fill his britches.&lt;br /&gt;  By the time I was done changing his diaper, we had used all the wipes I brought, and so when Sacrament was over, we decided to get him home in case he decided to do it again as he was notorious at it.&lt;br /&gt;  As we were almost home, I stepped down onto a part of the gutter where the asphalt from the road didn't quite meet the gutter, and rolled my foot. I thought that I'd rolled my ankle, and immediately went into the house, elevated and iced it, and decided to wait and see how it went. It got so bad that I couldn't put any pressure on my foot or even move my toes, so I dug the crutches out and began to use them. After an AGONIZING stroll through COSTCO, I realized that it took a LOT to use crutches, something I'd forgotten since I used them 5yrs ago. That Monday morning, though the swelling had gone down a little, I decided to get it checked out.&lt;br /&gt;  After an hour and a half in the doctor's office, and the doctor poking and prodding, taking X-rays, he came back and said that my foot wasn't broken, ankle wasn't sprained, but my foot was. I couldn't wrap my mind around spraining my foot instead of my ankle, but have been following doctor's orders for the most part. There are times when I don't ice it, it swells up and the toes barely move so I stop what I'm doing and elevate and ice the foot. As soon as it's comfortable for me to wear it, I'm back to the boot brace for a while.....YAY ME!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-6596788943340906148?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/6596788943340906148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=6596788943340906148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6596788943340906148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6596788943340906148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2010/07/sunday-stroll.html' title='Sunday Stroll'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TD0Xc0OtCwI/AAAAAAAAAYY/H-jPxA4rFgk/s72-c/DSCF5272.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-1133996221450922984</id><published>2010-07-01T15:54:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T16:18:54.120-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Quality Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TC0O3CdXw8I/AAAAAAAAAYQ/yd1rfFzvJno/s1600/Jess%27s+Camera+730.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TC0O3CdXw8I/AAAAAAAAAYQ/yd1rfFzvJno/s320/Jess%27s+Camera+730.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489059859550159810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Lately Merlyn has been looking pretty shabby. Since the lady I take him to is usually pretty busy, I decided to bathe and groom him myself. It still takes me a few hours to shave him completely, but now he's beginning to deal with me shaving all the hair off of him, and enjoys it in some parts.&lt;br /&gt;  I use to just jump right in with the clippers when he's dry, this time, I "scissor" him as much as I can, then just go over it with the clippers. It works a lot better that way, but the tiny hairs are unbearable when they work their way into your undies. Because it takes so long when I let his hair grow, I've decided to groom him every 2 weeks.  He loves being naked, and it's so fun watching people when they see him. I took him to the park with the kids for Lunch, and all the looks everyone gave him, it was just a ball. Lately, with how hot it's getting here, we've been having the AC on , his kennel is next to our vent, and when he gets really cold, he climbs up in bed with me and sleeps under my blanket.&lt;br /&gt;  I have a lot of fun with Merlyn, and look forward to many more years of torturing him. I'm thinking of dying his hair again the next time I groom him. He's also doing really good with the kids, lets them crawl on him and pull his hair. He doesn't run much from people anymore, lately he lunges at them, but that's a habit we're going to work on fixing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-1133996221450922984?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/1133996221450922984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=1133996221450922984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/1133996221450922984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/1133996221450922984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2010/07/quality-time.html' title='Quality Time'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TC0O3CdXw8I/AAAAAAAAAYQ/yd1rfFzvJno/s72-c/Jess%27s+Camera+730.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-2736129060820200302</id><published>2010-06-22T20:57:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T21:05:56.486-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Troy Parker</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TCF4hAi5xRI/AAAAAAAAAYI/WR-IobK8tmo/s1600/Jess%27s+Camera+631.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TCF4hAi5xRI/AAAAAAAAAYI/WR-IobK8tmo/s320/Jess%27s+Camera+631.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485798329591383314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The other day when I got lunch, I got these sun glasses in the kid's meal. Sitting at home, watching him in his swing,  I got this brilliant idea to put the sun glasses on Troy. He didn't seem too fussy, but he really wouldn't cooperate with taking the picture, I got lucky on this shot.&lt;br /&gt;  I have decided to hang on to them for when he's a little older, let him grow into them and what not. I have a lot of fun with him and Tucker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-2736129060820200302?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/2736129060820200302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=2736129060820200302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2736129060820200302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2736129060820200302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2010/06/troy-parker.html' title='Troy Parker'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TCF4hAi5xRI/AAAAAAAAAYI/WR-IobK8tmo/s72-c/Jess%27s+Camera+631.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-7784226575109138228</id><published>2010-06-12T00:04:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T00:15:18.716-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Who'da Thunk It</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TBMjywhsppI/AAAAAAAAAYA/nL8OJSBZO1g/s1600/Jess%27s+Camera+535.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TBMjywhsppI/AAAAAAAAAYA/nL8OJSBZO1g/s320/Jess%27s+Camera+535.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481764526366697106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well, tonight we celebrated our 6th Wedding Anniversary. We didn't do anything extremely special, just dinner and a movie, but it was nice just spending time together and reflecting on all the years we've had together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I've known Dave for almost 9 years, and though we have had many ups and downs, I know that I wouldn't be happier with anyone else. I look around at some of my friends, how some bailed when times got tough, others struggled to keep a dying relationship alive, and am so blessed to have my best friend at my side, in good times and bad, for time and all eternity. I'm truely blessed to have Dave in my life. We've put up with each other for almost 9 years, and are just as in love with each other as we were at the beginning. I look forward to many more years with Dave, he's my other half, my best friend, the love of my life. HAPPY ANNIVERSARY HONEY!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-7784226575109138228?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/7784226575109138228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=7784226575109138228' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7784226575109138228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7784226575109138228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2010/06/whoda-thunk-it.html' title='Who&apos;da Thunk It'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TBMjywhsppI/AAAAAAAAAYA/nL8OJSBZO1g/s72-c/Jess%27s+Camera+535.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-2826921084890478389</id><published>2010-06-04T11:54:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T12:27:24.959-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Something Fishy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TAk_9BQ7_QI/AAAAAAAAAX4/-GfVS31QJIQ/s1600/Jess%27s+Camera+551.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TAk_9BQ7_QI/AAAAAAAAAX4/-GfVS31QJIQ/s320/Jess%27s+Camera+551.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478980739216964866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; The other day, as they were preparing for Dan and Chrystal to come visit, Marsh called me from his house and said that he had a gift for Dave and I. It was more a "Loaner" than anything. I said ok, bring it over, not quite expecting what it was or looked like. The following day, he came over with this big wooden fish in his arms and handed it to me. It is a "Fertility Fish" and he said that it's the reason they have Tucker and another one on the way. He thinks it'll work for Dave and I, so we'll see. Note the carvings in this fish. I got to thinking and realized that I need to cover it up when the kids come over. It's quite the "Loan" and we put it on the headboard just because we didn't know where else to put it. Today Kaitlynn saw it covered with a towel, and asked me what it was.  I told her that it was a big wooden fish, and when she asked if she could see it, I said NO because it was a naughty fish. I explained to her that it had naughty pictures on it and she couldn't look at it. She understood and has left it alone and not asked about it since.&lt;br /&gt;  Marsh says that if this really works, he's going to lend it to Dan and Chrystal. It's now a joke in the house and we're asked often if it's working. I think Marsh first thought he offended me when he asked if we wanted to borrow it, so I told him that my chuckle was more in the thoughts of he was funny, not insulting. I think at this point, Dave and I are ready to try ANYTHING!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-2826921084890478389?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/2826921084890478389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=2826921084890478389' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2826921084890478389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2826921084890478389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2010/06/something-fishy.html' title='Something Fishy'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/TAk_9BQ7_QI/AAAAAAAAAX4/-GfVS31QJIQ/s72-c/Jess%27s+Camera+551.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-4115945718885202189</id><published>2010-02-24T15:31:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T15:55:09.482-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Day From HELL</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/S4Wqkv0qE-I/AAAAAAAAAXo/UZEFkiD53Ks/s1600-h/017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/S4Wqkv0qE-I/AAAAAAAAAXo/UZEFkiD53Ks/s320/017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441943273036452834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, Dave took the day off to finally go riding with Marsh, Monroe (Chas), Andy, Tyrel and Emily. While they were gone, Dad came in from the shop telling me that one of my cats were in horrible shape. I was watching Kaitlynn and Tucker, so I took them both back with Dad and I, and was totally appalled at what I saw. Not only was the litter box SOLID with stuff, but all 3 cats had at least 1 eye shut and full of goop, and Angel, the kitty that was born just before Grandma Wanda passed away, was nothing but a skeleton with fur stretched on it, barely hanging on to life.&lt;br /&gt;I immediately told Dad that he'll have to be put down, picked the cat up, took him into the house and called the vet. Me, Dad, Kaitlynn and Tucker then took him to the vet, where they examined him. He wouldn't move much during the exam, and they couldn't get his temperature to register on the thermometer with how bad he was.&lt;br /&gt;  After the exam, the Vet told us that we could have them hospitalize him and rehydrate him so they can run more tests on him to find out what was wrong, or I could put him out of his pain. He said that if I chose euthanasia, he'd back me 100% which I took as that's what he would prefer. As hard as it was to do, we opted to put him down, so me, the tech, and the Doc went to the back room to do it.&lt;br /&gt;  Normally when they Euthanize an animal, they find a vein and inject the chemicals in it, but with how bad off Angel was, they injected the chemicals directly into his kidneys. Before they even pulled the needle out of his body, I felt his head go limp in my hands, and knew right away that he'd passed away. It was not an easy thing to do, never really is, but I know that he's happier now, and not suffering anymore. I will miss watching him sit in the window sill of the shop with the window partially open, meowing at me across the yard. We'd "talk" back and forth like that for hours, and I loved it.&lt;br /&gt;   The other 2 cats are doing a little bit better though it breaks my heart to see Luna wandering around looking for her nephew. She meows all the time and rubs against everything she can. Jeriko is super thin in the hind end, but with lots of food, water and TLC, I'm sure he'll bounce back just fine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-4115945718885202189?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/4115945718885202189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=4115945718885202189' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4115945718885202189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4115945718885202189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2010/02/day-from-hell.html' title='The Day From HELL'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/S4Wqkv0qE-I/AAAAAAAAAXo/UZEFkiD53Ks/s72-c/017.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-6493857285170705709</id><published>2010-01-16T02:11:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T02:25:41.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Never Use Public Urinals</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/S1GFnKjam-I/AAAAAAAAAXg/jItpnsHI-qM/s1600-h/Miscelanneous+074.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/S1GFnKjam-I/AAAAAAAAAXg/jItpnsHI-qM/s320/Miscelanneous+074.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427265933852449762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday was my Dad's 64th birthday. Though money is real tight for Dave and I, we decided to treat Mom and Dad to dinner, and went to Golden Corral (Dad's choice.) It was Date Night for Marsh and Emily so Tucker came along with us, Heather and Chas went to Idaho Falls.&lt;br /&gt; We ate, played with Tucker and his food, and then when all was said and done, took Mom, Dad, and Tucker home. Dave and I then went to Wal-Mart to walk around and pick up some Toilet Paper for the house. When we got to the Electronics section, Dave decided he needed to relieve himself so he went to the bathroom. I walked around the area and waited, then after a few minutes or so, Dave came out, saw me and then said "Jess, he's dead meat!"&lt;br /&gt;I looked at him, wondering what and who he was talking about, then I asked him, and got the response I wasn't really expecting: "I'm gonna kill Marsh!" At that moment, I saw Marsh poke his head around an aisle with a crap eating grin on his face.&lt;br /&gt;  Dave proceeded to tell me that while he was standing at the urinal, conducting his business, somebody walked in and patted his bottom. He told me that he stopped in mid stream and almost decked the person, until he realized who it was. After he told this to me, I began laughing real hard. I couldn't stop laughing and laugh every time I think of the story. I told Marsh that it was a good one, and we all went our separate ways. Dave and I beat Marsh and Emily to Mom and Dad's and didn't hesitate telling them, getting the exact same reaction that I gave.&lt;br /&gt; I don't see Dave living this down anytime soon, and when Marsh is around, I tell Dave to cover his butt. Before they left Mom and Dad's, Marsh told Dave not to have any "good dreams". Oh to be a fly on the wall in that restroom at that time. It was the perfect ending to a good day. I love my husband for being a good sport, and I love my family for loving my husband.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-6493857285170705709?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/6493857285170705709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=6493857285170705709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6493857285170705709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6493857285170705709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2010/01/never-use-public-urinals.html' title='Never Use Public Urinals'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/S1GFnKjam-I/AAAAAAAAAXg/jItpnsHI-qM/s72-c/Miscelanneous+074.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-6248245470141743282</id><published>2009-12-29T16:41:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T18:19:58.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Turning Back Time</title><content type='html'>Dave is into Dragons and I saw this clock while shopping for Christmas, and thought it'd make a good addition to his office. When we looked closer at it, the big hand wouldn't go past 7 and the face was cracked. The day after Christmas, we took it back to where I bought it and exchanged it for one that worked. When we got back, Heather asked where we'd gone and Chas told her that we went to turn back time.&lt;br /&gt;I laughed when Dave told me this, and just had to post that here on my blog. It wasn't much, but it was a fairly decent Christmas. It was good to share it with both families, and I hope that our plan for rotating which Family we spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with works out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SzqUJtQL-GI/AAAAAAAAAXY/iFTP7QoZA7A/s1600-h/Clock.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SzqUJtQL-GI/AAAAAAAAAXY/iFTP7QoZA7A/s320/Clock.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420807995981035618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-6248245470141743282?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/6248245470141743282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=6248245470141743282' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6248245470141743282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6248245470141743282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/12/turning-back-time.html' title='Turning Back Time'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SzqUJtQL-GI/AAAAAAAAAXY/iFTP7QoZA7A/s72-c/Clock.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-7679624165343356234</id><published>2009-12-17T03:42:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T04:18:34.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bah Humbug/Hum Bahbug</title><content type='html'>As far as I could remember, Christmas was my all time favorite holliday. I'd always be excited for Santa, the lights, decorations and Christmas Specials on TV. I loved going Christmas shopping with my parents until I was old enough to go on my own, and snooping around with my siblings for our gifts  when Mom and Dad left the house for any period of time.&lt;br /&gt;A few days ago, Mom asked me out of the blue what my favorite Christmas memory was. Though this question seemed simple, it wasn't. I had quite a few memories that I loved, Grandma coming over Christmas morning to watch us open gifts, siblings keeping me up all night waiting for the OK from Mom and Dad to see what Santa brought, and looking at lights on Christmas Eve and exchanging gifts with Grandma and Grandpa on the way home.&lt;br /&gt;Out of these memories, and others, the one that sticks out the most is the late nights with my siblings. I remember being so excited for Santa to come when I went to bed, and just as I doze off, I'd hear a light tap on my door, usually around 1am. It'd be one of my brothers, as I was sharing a room with Heather, and they'd come sit on the bed and talk with me until it was time to open presents. We'd try to figure out what we got, tell each other what we bought people, and just spend some good quality time together.&lt;br /&gt;As the years progressed and we each went our own ways, the joys of Christmas for me turned in to Giving, rather than receiving. I loved to find out what people wanted, go out and find the perfect gift for everyone, and pray they liked it. The last 5yrs or so, that joy has faded for me, and this year, I just can't seem to get into the "spirit" of Christmas. I feel I have totally become a scrooge. I don't know if this is because I'm overwhelmed with making gifts for people this year, or because everyone I know has kids to share their Christmas with, or just because I can't seem to do what I want to for everyone this year. I know that it does hurt knowing that my siblings and other friends who DO have kids get to experience something that I've been jealous of since I have been unable to have kids, the look of extreme joy on their faces Christmas Morning when they open their gifts and see what Santa brought them.&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know for sure why I feel this way this year, I know part of it is the parental, no kid thing, but it's not the main reason. All I know is that it's really bothering me, and I hope I can get out of it. If you click on the title of this post, you'll be taken to the song that best describes my feeling for this Christmas. Feel free to take a look and as usual, your opinions and thoughts are welcomed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-7679624165343356234?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nmGSHZYZ74c' title='Bah Humbug/Hum Bahbug'/><link rel='enclosure' type='' href='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nmGSHZYZ74c' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/7679624165343356234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=7679624165343356234' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7679624165343356234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7679624165343356234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/12/bah-humbughum-bahbug.html' title='Bah Humbug/Hum Bahbug'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-8965320146255840313</id><published>2009-12-01T21:42:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T21:54:30.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Biting Off MORE Than I Can Chew</title><content type='html'>Ok, so lately I've been intensely working on hats and scarves for my nieces and nephews Christmas gifts. Last week, since I shaved Merlyn naked, I decided to find a simple pattern for a dog sweater, and make him one to keep him warm. I found one online, printed it off and then went to work. It took me 2 days tops to finish it with doing a little altering. I put it on him and he totally enjoys wearing it, though I'm trying to figure out a way to make the back sit better on him.&lt;br /&gt;Looking at the finished product, and back on all the other projects I've done, or am doing, I thought long and hard about using all the yarn I have to make afghans, dog sweaters, cat/dog toys, hats, scarves, and whatever else I can make or figure out how to make, and sell them. Chrystal has been telling me that I should sell them on Etsy, and it's been a thought, but I don't think I really want to pay for selling my stuff online. I have considered maybe posting items on my Facebook for people to see and possibly buy, but the only thing I see holding me back is the prices for things.&lt;br /&gt;I do not know what people are willing to pay for my products, nor do I know what would be a reasonable price. Should I do special orders? Make up some in advance? I just don't know. I think it needs a lot more thought before I act upon it, I know for sure that Dave would be extactic if I used up all my yarn and retired my hooks for a while. My wrists and fingers would thank me for sure too. Who knows. This is what Merlyn's sweater looks like.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SxXy2m8X8EI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/KRAsk-R8VCM/s1600-h/Merlyn%27s+Sweater+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SxXy2m8X8EI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/KRAsk-R8VCM/s320/Merlyn%27s+Sweater+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410497547336151106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SxXyZ1-Tv6I/AAAAAAAAAXI/4Iv6omIQklU/s1600-h/Merlyn%27s+Sweater.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SxXyZ1-Tv6I/AAAAAAAAAXI/4Iv6omIQklU/s320/Merlyn%27s+Sweater.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410497053154590626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-8965320146255840313?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/8965320146255840313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=8965320146255840313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/8965320146255840313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/8965320146255840313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/12/biting-off-more-than-i-can-chew.html' title='Biting Off MORE Than I Can Chew'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SxXy2m8X8EI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/KRAsk-R8VCM/s72-c/Merlyn%27s+Sweater+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5126451928436777862</id><published>2009-11-08T01:27:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T01:43:35.509-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Fun and Good Friends</title><content type='html'>Saturday afternoon we were blessed by a visit with some friends. Dave has known Rachel since High School, and I met her almost 14yrs ago at Idaho Business Week in Boise. It's a funny story with Rachel. Dave and I attended her wedding, then after they moved, we lost touch with her. When the time came that Dave and I got married, as a wedding gift to him, I found him his 2 best girls. It took a few months to locate them, but finally succeeded. He was delighted to see her and his other friend Heather at the Temple, and though everyone else thought it was weird to see me give my husband 2 girls for a wedding gift, it was the best thing he could have ever had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; We once again, lost touch after our wedding, then finally reconnected thanks to Facebook and Myspace. Well, I think it was about a month or so ago, when I found out that Les was being sent to Mississippi and they were moving there in January. I told Rachel that she HAD to come see us before they moved, and they made the trip this weekend. Les immediately began to give me a run for my money, and he was caught off guard MANY times when I had witty comebacks for him and gave as good as I got. Dave and Rachel got a kick out of us I think, and I really hope we can visit them more before they head south.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SvaCm7UY66I/AAAAAAAAAXA/wauQWKuaEa8/s1600-h/Rachel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SvaCm7UY66I/AAAAAAAAAXA/wauQWKuaEa8/s320/Rachel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401648408347339682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SvaCdv_HBuI/AAAAAAAAAW4/KZ9M8VFQRMY/s1600-h/Les.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SvaCdv_HBuI/AAAAAAAAAW4/KZ9M8VFQRMY/s320/Les.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401648250686473954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; We took them to eat at Craigos where they got their first taste of Apple Beer, then it was off to Outer Limits for some 3D Blacklight Golf. They had a blast with that, and towards the end Les decided it was fun to pick on me. I kept throwing the wit back at him, and realized how like Dave he is. All in all it was a good, stress free visit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5126451928436777862?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5126451928436777862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5126451928436777862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5126451928436777862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5126451928436777862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/11/good-fun-and-good-friends.html' title='Good Fun and Good Friends'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SvaCm7UY66I/AAAAAAAAAXA/wauQWKuaEa8/s72-c/Rachel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-3639669425296625766</id><published>2009-11-05T09:33:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T09:56:29.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SvL-7qCZbMI/AAAAAAAAAWw/eBbuH79feSY/s1600-h/169.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SvL-7qCZbMI/AAAAAAAAAWw/eBbuH79feSY/s320/169.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400659204020726978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ok, so this photo was taken last year, but it is a photo about my subject on this entry, so Oh well. Anyway, since it's a month away, I thought I would share a little thought about Christmas. A few weeks ago, I was asked if we should draw names as a family, cutting back on expenses on having to buy for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't respond right away, gave it some serious thought then after about a week, I told this person that I THOUGHT it'd be better for everyone to get each other gifts, even if it's "Family" gifts, rather than drawing names. I told them that it seemed more fair in the sense that those who couldn't be there to draw names didn't have somebody else do it for them and nobody would be left out or overlooked. I also pointed out that you didn't have to spend a lot for "Family" gifts, that it worked pretty good for Dave and I over the years. Though at times it seems a bit lame or Korny with what we put in these baskets, but they've got a LOT of thought put into them, and it gives people a taste of the heart put into the gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I've focused on what to get Dave's family, and though I've drawn a blank for the adults, the kids are pretty well covered. I am quite stoked and hope they like the ideas that I have for them. Each child gets a home made hat and scarf in their gift, then a few other odds and ends sealed with LOTS of hugs and kisses. Knowing that money is tight for ALL family members, I would be quite content with a few cases of Mountain Dew LIVEWIRE as I can't get it in Pocatello, or any CD by Andrea Bochelli or Luciano Pavaratti. Yeah, I went there, I like those two, I've also got a christmas list that is being sent to everyone, and for "Family " gifts for Dave and I, there are TV Series I've got on my list we BOTH would LOVE to have in our posession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just ask everyone to remember that Christmas isn't about receiving, it is so much more than that, and the world seems to forget the true meaning. Lets all take the time to think about the true meaning of Christmas, and have a happy holiday season!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-3639669425296625766?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/3639669425296625766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=3639669425296625766' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/3639669425296625766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/3639669425296625766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/11/christmas.html' title='Christmas'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SvL-7qCZbMI/AAAAAAAAAWw/eBbuH79feSY/s72-c/169.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-2944459508108680451</id><published>2009-11-01T20:26:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T20:52:50.914-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween</title><content type='html'>So this year for Halloween, I actually dressed up and took Kaitlynn out Trick or Treating. We didn't go very far, just to COSTCO and the ward Trunk or Treat. I was going to take her to the few houses in the neighborhood but when we got home, she peed her pants. It was your usual "too excited and busy to stop for a potty break" and she felt so bad about it.&lt;br /&gt;It was not that big of a deal though because she was loaded with candy and pretty worn out from the days activities. Her parents dressed her up as a pirate, and when she saw me dressed up as a little kid, she wanted to be one, but I managed to convince her to be MY babysitter for once. She liked that idea, and was content with being a pirate again. COSTCO was taking free pictures of the kids, and before I took Kaitlynn's home to her parents, I made a copy, this is what she looked like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Su5UhewG5ZI/AAAAAAAAAWg/hVZLffgRiqw/s1600-h/oc31%5E0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Su5UhewG5ZI/AAAAAAAAAWg/hVZLffgRiqw/s320/oc31%5E0001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399345937431061906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Later that evening, Marsh and Em brought Tucker over in his costume. If you've ever smelled him after he farts, you'll understand and agree why he was dressed as what he was. It was so stinking fun watching him crawl around in that costume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Su5Vi2-r8aI/AAAAAAAAAWo/Iy2Z6J0Dn_0/s1600-h/035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Su5Vi2-r8aI/AAAAAAAAAWo/Iy2Z6J0Dn_0/s320/035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399347060626157986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-8456098071184afc" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D8456098071184afc%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331240917%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3DFD2B5E27EB099D6486774930F136DB40737A7E.49E620F52AD2FD31143E0AA93220C580EF5BCAA8%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D8456098071184afc%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D0gG9jCKRDzDX29WHs9lQwkcNQIc&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D8456098071184afc%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331240917%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3DFD2B5E27EB099D6486774930F136DB40737A7E.49E620F52AD2FD31143E0AA93220C580EF5BCAA8%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D8456098071184afc%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D0gG9jCKRDzDX29WHs9lQwkcNQIc&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-2944459508108680451?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=8456098071184afc&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/2944459508108680451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=2944459508108680451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2944459508108680451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2944459508108680451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/11/halloween.html' title='Halloween'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Su5UhewG5ZI/AAAAAAAAAWg/hVZLffgRiqw/s72-c/oc31%5E0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-687607999078099365</id><published>2009-10-31T11:25:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T11:41:08.774-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Therapy</title><content type='html'>As y'all know, I've been working on improving my crocheting, and lately, began to make hats. This Christmas, I plan on giving all my nieces and nephews home made hats and scarves along with their gifts, and as I was working on Faith's hat, the Elders saw them and wanted to pay me to make them one. Being Missionaries and a good source of therapy for me, I told them I'd make them the hats for free, they just needed to pick out their yarn colors. It took me 2 weeks to finish both hats, but I really liked the way they turned out. These are the hats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sux1oHU2CWI/AAAAAAAAAWY/6zLjjTfJeG0/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sux1oHU2CWI/AAAAAAAAAWY/6zLjjTfJeG0/s320/001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398819385332074850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sux1MeSosqI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/EhrM1Yjx6wA/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sux1MeSosqI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/EhrM1Yjx6wA/s320/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398818910460490402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I will not lie, though it was a ROYAL pain in the butt due to the type of yarn, the purple and black is my favorite. I didn't rig it to be striped, niether of them really, and it was soooooooooooooo soft. I think that I will start making more, and am toying with the idea of charging people for labor. They can furnish their own yarn, but depending on size, I'll charge them for the time it takes me to make them. I just need to decide on what would be reasonable, any ideas or suggestions???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-687607999078099365?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/687607999078099365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=687607999078099365' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/687607999078099365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/687607999078099365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/10/good-therapy.html' title='Good Therapy'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sux1oHU2CWI/AAAAAAAAAWY/6zLjjTfJeG0/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5759109300638687575</id><published>2009-10-29T16:15:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T16:22:53.990-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Flair</title><content type='html'>Lately on the nights that I cannot sleep, I'll get on Facebook because it doesn't require much brain activity, and just look at the different apps that I have. The other night, I decided to see if they've got any new "Flair" and found some pretty good ones. With all the hype on the Swine Flu, I've taken to telling people who ask me if I have it, that I don't have the curly tail or a snout, so it's gotta be the regular flu.&lt;br /&gt;  With people dying from the Swine Flu, I know it's not a joking matter, but I can't resist, and I'm not the only one. As I was browsing through the flair, I found one with a cartoon pig that's wearing a hospital mask. Above and below it it said "Swine Flu, Bacon's Revenge". Now just spending HOURS, and I mean HOURS looking at little pieces of Flair tells ya that I have no life, especially when I'm sick. As I was finding all these funny little ones, my absolute favorite at this moment is&lt;br /&gt;" Don't knock on Death's door, ring the doorbell and run away, he hates that!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5759109300638687575?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5759109300638687575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5759109300638687575' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5759109300638687575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5759109300638687575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/10/flair.html' title='Flair'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-2900646491931608779</id><published>2009-10-15T01:15:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T01:34:30.866-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A WOW Moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/StbPyzT8jJI/AAAAAAAAAWA/V53YKCpy23c/s1600-h/Kaitlynn+61.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/StbPyzT8jJI/AAAAAAAAAWA/V53YKCpy23c/s320/Kaitlynn+61.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392726075497024658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Tuesday Kaitlyn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;n came over to make cookies with me. The FIRST thing I did when we started, was explain to her that the Oven is really hot and that she couldn't touch it or she'd get burned really bad. She fully understood as each time I o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;pene&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;d th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e oven door, or Layla came near to the oven, Kaitlynn would say "really ho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;t". She did GREAT at following directions, and hel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ping with th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e cookies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the second to the last batch, we were doing some editing on photos and I told her to peek into the oven and see if the cookies were done. I knew the timer hadn't go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ne off, but thought I would give her something to do. Two seconds or so later, I hear Kaitlynn holler "They're done". I got up, took the 10 steps it takes to get to the kitchen, and stopped in shock.The oven door was wide open, and Kaitlynn was standing in front of it.&lt;br /&gt;As I approached the oven, I discovered the cookie sheet was sitting on the stove. Kaitlynn had opened the oven, grabbed the towel I was using as a hot pad, and pulled the cookies out herself, and placed them on the stove. She did not get burned, and was quite proud of herself for what she did. I put the cookies back in the oven to let them continue to bake, then took her aside and explained to her that she couldn't do that without an adult around to help.&lt;br /&gt;I proceeded to tell her that it was ok, I was proud of her for not getting burned and trying to help, and not mad at her.&lt;br /&gt;I then sent her mother a text message telling her what had happened, that I was shocked about it all and that it was all so fast. Part of me was proud of that little girl, this story is proof of how we need to be examples. When we don't know it, we're being watched, and others learn by example. I wasn't aware at how intently Kaitlynn was watching and learning what I was doing, until she did the unthinkable for a 3yr old, without being injured. Seriously, what 3yr old do you know, would think to take an extremely hot cookie sheet out of a oven at 375 degrees with a towel or oven mitt??? All I can say and have been saying since the incident is "WOW".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-2900646491931608779?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/2900646491931608779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=2900646491931608779' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2900646491931608779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2900646491931608779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/10/wow-moment.html' title='A WOW Moment'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/StbPyzT8jJI/AAAAAAAAAWA/V53YKCpy23c/s72-c/Kaitlynn+61.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-1139269645645899630</id><published>2009-10-05T12:09:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T17:53:11.158-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Roommate</title><content type='html'>Today's entry is all about my new roommate. I call him Mighty Mouse, and this is why. A few days ago, Dave was sitting in our room, and saw a movement out the corner of his eye. The light was on, and 4 dogs were in the room, but this big mouse shot across the room, and under the door.&lt;br /&gt;  We let Mom and Dad know the following morning, they purchased more traps, and after it was baited and set, we placed it under our entertainment center. That  night, as we were watching TV with the light on and 4 dogs in the room, again, "Mighty Mouse" ran across the floor, and into the closet behind Merlyn's kennel. Merlyn was sleeping soundly in his kennel, so we pulled it out, had "Mighty" cornered, literally, and sent Mason to catch him.&lt;br /&gt;  After a failed attempt at Mason chasing him, Gus caught on to the excitement, and before long, he joined Mason in tracking the mouse through the basement. The mouse had gotten away, for now, and everyone went to bed. Early this morning, when I got Dave up for work, I was getting ready to get up and turn the Bedroom light back off, when once again, Mighty darted from under the entertainment center and out the door. I know it's only a matter of time before he's caught, but I must say, this isn't any ordinary mouse, this is the first mouse I've seen that is brave enough to be seen by 4 dogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sso3ArwrDgI/AAAAAAAAAVo/gbCdKSu8lkk/s1600-h/mouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 149px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sso3ArwrDgI/AAAAAAAAAVo/gbCdKSu8lkk/s320/mouse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389180388988620290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-1139269645645899630?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/1139269645645899630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=1139269645645899630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/1139269645645899630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/1139269645645899630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-new-roommate.html' title='My New Roommate'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sso3ArwrDgI/AAAAAAAAAVo/gbCdKSu8lkk/s72-c/mouse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-7481508106479246612</id><published>2009-09-24T20:41:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T17:44:20.123-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Long NEEDED Visit and Trip</title><content type='html'>So yesterday Dave's sister Rachel loaded up her 3 kids, stopped by to pick us up, and headed to Salt Lake City. We were taking the kids to the Hogle Zoo, and just visiting with each other. Isaac was beyond hilarious when he kept telling Dave that he was driving the wrong way, as if he knew where we were going. The kids did GREAT for as young as they are and as long as a drive it was, and when we got to the zoo, it was go go go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We saw almost every animal there, though we missed out on the baby elephant, and stayed awhile past when the zoo closed.  As we were leaving the zoo, Isaac tripped and fell head first onto a cement parking block. He was fine other than a really sore head and cheek, as he bit his cheek when he fell. After one of the employees of the zoo gave us some ice, we loaded the kids in the car, stopped off at the store and got some Tylanol for Isaac, then headed to dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner, because it was so late, rather than hit the mall or temple square, we decided to head home, stopping by Krispy Kream to get some doughnuts. We didn't return to Pocatello until about 2am so Rachel crashed at mom and dad's, and in the morning the kids had a field day playing with each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's photo is of Isaac, I just absolutely LOVE the way it turned out/looks, and am seriously considering entering it into the fair next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SsqEp-1bqyI/AAAAAAAAAVw/s7VL9YKQV38/s1600-h/A+Boys+Delight.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SsqEp-1bqyI/AAAAAAAAAVw/s7VL9YKQV38/s320/A+Boys+Delight.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389265760878832418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Srw0xvedHmI/AAAAAAAAAVY/YN3MogFOpQE/s1600-h/Zoo+Trip+with+Hiedenblutes+026.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-7481508106479246612?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/7481508106479246612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=7481508106479246612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7481508106479246612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7481508106479246612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/09/long-needed-visit-and-trip.html' title='A Long NEEDED Visit and Trip'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SsqEp-1bqyI/AAAAAAAAAVw/s7VL9YKQV38/s72-c/A+Boys+Delight.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-6967471819873617446</id><published>2009-09-20T14:10:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T14:37:41.324-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Uncanny Resemblence.</title><content type='html'>Ever since Tucker was born, I'd keep saying that he looks a lot like Marsh. Last night, as I was loading pictures from Marsh's photo album so I don't have to when I work on scrapbooking, I ran across this photo, which to me, could pass as Tucker. It was taken in 1980 and obviously, Marsh is a few months old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SraMxtqIeTI/AAAAAAAAAVA/G0BGboBy_fg/s1600-h/1980.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 255px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SraMxtqIeTI/AAAAAAAAAVA/G0BGboBy_fg/s320/1980.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383645190265796914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of Tucker, I think he could almost pass as Marsh's twin. I must admit, this little man is quite attached to me. Lately if Mom, Heather or anyone else but Marsh and Emily hold him, he cries. When I get him, he hugs me and is happy. I love him dearly, and enjoy the times I get to spend with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SraRrY5WSoI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/nLt25N5cN-I/s1600-h/Labor+Day+Family+Stuff+099.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SraRrY5WSoI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/nLt25N5cN-I/s320/Labor+Day+Family+Stuff+099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383650579171396226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-6967471819873617446?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/6967471819873617446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=6967471819873617446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6967471819873617446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6967471819873617446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/09/uncanny-resemblence.html' title='Uncanny Resemblence.'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SraMxtqIeTI/AAAAAAAAAVA/G0BGboBy_fg/s72-c/1980.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5922913113112068168</id><published>2009-09-16T18:24:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T18:34:10.490-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Making Progress</title><content type='html'>As all of you know, Merlyn has been a pretty skittish dog since we've gotten from the breeder nearly 5yrs ago. (dang time flies) Since I noticed he is skittish, I've been trying to work with him conquering his fears so to speak, and have made some progress. He's not as scared of strangers as he used to be, and has even nipped at the gas man.&lt;br /&gt; He'd run when kids are around, except for if it's Kaitlynn. Early on he and Kaitlynn formed a special bond, and when she's around, he is her dog. She is the only one who can lie on him like a pillow, grab his tail, ears, feet, and just manhandle. The other day I was watching Layla. She'd just woken up from her nap, and I just changed her diaper when Merlyn decided to join us on the bed. She'd crawled over to him and this is what I saw, it went on for a good 45min. and I was quite proud of Merlyn. He didn't snap, growl, or run. He lied there, and if she moved away, he would try to cozy up to her again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SrGDfV8HqPI/AAAAAAAAAU4/mCiYvkMXkX8/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SrGDfV8HqPI/AAAAAAAAAU4/mCiYvkMXkX8/s320/002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382227604172941554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5922913113112068168?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5922913113112068168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5922913113112068168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5922913113112068168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5922913113112068168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/09/making-progress.html' title='Making Progress'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SrGDfV8HqPI/AAAAAAAAAU4/mCiYvkMXkX8/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-2087842479978734565</id><published>2009-09-14T19:35:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T19:45:54.072-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm sooooooo a dead woman after this post!</title><content type='html'>Ok, so we all know that I love my husband VERY much. For the past few weeks, I've been kicking him to the couch so I can attempt to get a little sleep, and he can to. Well, today, after an early dinner, I'd came up to check things out and update my blogs. I decided to get my camera, and when I got to our room, I heard Dave snoring. Being the loving wife that I am, I had to snap a picture....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sq7v_6gW9GI/AAAAAAAAAUw/RjC9yQyGMv0/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sq7v_6gW9GI/AAAAAAAAAUw/RjC9yQyGMv0/s320/006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381502486070096994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if this photo wasn't enough, and Dave, I really do LOVE YOU! I got video of what I hear each night, and why he's been sleeping in another room but unfortunately for me, fortunately for him, it wouldn't load. Needless to say, he's quite loud, and it kills me that he has to sleep in another room, but I just can't keep the ear plugs going and risk getting another ear infection.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-2087842479978734565?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/2087842479978734565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=2087842479978734565' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2087842479978734565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2087842479978734565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/09/im-sooooooo-dead-woman-after-this-post.html' title='I&apos;m sooooooo a dead woman after this post!'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sq7v_6gW9GI/AAAAAAAAAUw/RjC9yQyGMv0/s72-c/006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-1553703831454211302</id><published>2009-09-11T16:51:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T17:07:14.849-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Labor Day</title><content type='html'>Sunday and Monday, we went to Emily's family cabin for a family camping trip. Because we couldn't find anyone to watch all the dogs, Dave and I came home Sunday night then returned to the cabin early Monday morning. We ate breakfast, then Dave and I took Dad's Razar out for a drive. I got Mason to follow us mostly down the road, then he began to lag behind, and I got a crazy idea to see if he'd ride in the back. Dave stopped and I put Mason on the back of the Razar, where he rode the rest of the way down, then back up to the cabin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SqrVtEl_bSI/AAAAAAAAAUY/dRUQ-kFn-9Q/s1600-h/Labor+Day+Family+Stuff+045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SqrVtEl_bSI/AAAAAAAAAUY/dRUQ-kFn-9Q/s320/Labor+Day+Family+Stuff+045.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380347675151396130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; After our ride, everyone but Dave, Mom, Emily, Tucker, Andy and his wife, went fishing. I desperately needed a nap, so I crawled up into the back of Marsh's truck, and fell asleep for a few hours. We had a nice breeze up there, and I was really comfortable. When I woke up, Emily and Tucker came to see me, while waiting for Marsh and Dad to return with the Razar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SqrWgiCU-bI/AAAAAAAAAUg/xL-D-M9lUHU/s1600-h/Labor+Day+Family+Stuff+060.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SqrWgiCU-bI/AAAAAAAAAUg/xL-D-M9lUHU/s320/Labor+Day+Family+Stuff+060.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380348559228205490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Shortly after this picture was taken, Emily left Tucker with me, and went on Marsh's 4 wheeler to find him. Then Chas took Tucker to Heather and took me for a ride on Andy's 4 wheeler, where I prayed for dear life. It was his first time driving one, and my first time riding one, and it was CRAZY!!!!! We all had a lot of fun though, and the only thing missing was Dan and Chrystal. (Yes, it'd be a hoot to see how well they'd handle "roughing it" with the rest of the fam.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-1553703831454211302?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/1553703831454211302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=1553703831454211302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/1553703831454211302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/1553703831454211302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/09/labor-day.html' title='Labor Day'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SqrVtEl_bSI/AAAAAAAAAUY/dRUQ-kFn-9Q/s72-c/Labor+Day+Family+Stuff+045.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-8938467171512864952</id><published>2009-09-09T23:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T23:23:55.854-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Self Taught</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SqiL31jrXKI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/WLbCYPDf-S8/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SqiL31jrXKI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/WLbCYPDf-S8/s320/004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379703546279845026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As most of you know, I've been collecting TONS of yarn, most of it came from Grandma after she passed last year. Lately, I've been trying to learn new crochet stitches, and this is one of my new favorites. It's called the BOX STITCH, and it's a lot of fun to do. I'm making this afghan out of the yarn I got from Grandma, it's going to be white and green, then trimmed in black. The other yarn in the photo, the pink,blue,purple multi-colored is another stitch I'm trying called the SEED STITCH. It's going to be a blanket for Merlyn's kennel, and is yet, another easy stitch to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I catch a lot of crap for being so young and crocheting, but I have found it to be a good stress reliever, and a fun hobby. Dave doesn't like it at times because it takes up most of the time he wants to spend with me. I admit, I'm a bit addicted to it, I go pretty much everywhere with some form of a crocheting project, and work on things while I'm watching TV or trying to get sleepy. It has been the best therapy I've had yet. I'll post more photos of other projects as they come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-8938467171512864952?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/8938467171512864952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=8938467171512864952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/8938467171512864952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/8938467171512864952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/09/self-taught.html' title='Self Taught'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SqiL31jrXKI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/WLbCYPDf-S8/s72-c/004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-4592051365158086652</id><published>2009-09-01T12:12:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T12:23:31.565-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dad's New Truck</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sp1kV_NFBTI/AAAAAAAAAUI/aR5MFMzHexo/s1600-h/016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sp1kV_NFBTI/AAAAAAAAAUI/aR5MFMzHexo/s320/016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376563859056559410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This blog entry is because Dad requested I take a picture of his GMC Senoma so that Dan and Chrystal can see what it looks like. While he was in the ER a few weeks ago, waiting to be checked out, he had Marsh go to the dealership and purchase this for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The original plan was for him to give us the Tahoe, and fix up the S10 for us as well, he keep the money from our cars if he can sell them, and then fix up Emily's old Honda for Heather. After some time thinking, Dad has decided to keep the Tahoe as a backup, fix the S10 up for Dave and I, the Red Honda for Heather and sell our Van and Honda. I am ok with this plan, the S10 would be much easier to take the dogs in, and I don't watch kids as much, and if I do need to go somewhere with a kid, I'm sure I can get my hands on another vehicle with a back seat they can ride in. Anyway, it seems like everyone likes the Senoma, everyone that is, except me. I don't know why I don't like it, but I just don't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-4592051365158086652?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/4592051365158086652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=4592051365158086652' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4592051365158086652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4592051365158086652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/09/dads-new-truck.html' title='Dad&apos;s New Truck'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sp1kV_NFBTI/AAAAAAAAAUI/aR5MFMzHexo/s72-c/016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-197799558909142052</id><published>2009-08-24T23:11:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T23:17:30.138-06:00</updated><title type='text'>True Redneck</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SpNzoZpxCWI/AAAAAAAAAUA/wIpBMGmKL7E/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 195px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SpNzoZpxCWI/AAAAAAAAAUA/wIpBMGmKL7E/s320/009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373765918301161826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Blackfoot today to visit Sara and teach her a little more crocheting. When I got there, we went and grabbed a bite to eat, and she pointed this out to me. I thought it was so hilarious, I had to stop on my way home and take a picture to share with you.&lt;br /&gt; She'd explained to me that it cracks her up every time she sees it, and has even seen people grilling on it. She calls it the "Redneck Deck". Can you guess why she would name it that??? Yes, this is the true side of BLACKFOOT, IDAHO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that at first glance it's just a stack of pallets, but if you take a closer look, you'll see chairs on them, sadly, I know people who'd do something like this.(NO, it's NOT me.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-197799558909142052?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/197799558909142052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=197799558909142052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/197799558909142052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/197799558909142052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/08/true-redneck.html' title='True Redneck'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SpNzoZpxCWI/AAAAAAAAAUA/wIpBMGmKL7E/s72-c/009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-9066213389754212939</id><published>2009-08-21T12:36:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T12:41:43.228-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hogle Zoo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/So7qWltKx2I/AAAAAAAAAT4/vr4DGjliszU/s1600-h/049.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/So7qWltKx2I/AAAAAAAAAT4/vr4DGjliszU/s320/049.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372489079299164002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave and I went to the zoo in Salt Lake yesterday, and though our feet were ACHING, we had a blast. We took the train ride, and saw almost all the animals they had to show. They have some new baby animals at the zoo, some of which weren't available for showing (the elephant was born on the 10th of Aug, and was in seclusion with it's mom to bond.)&lt;br /&gt; I took a lot of pictures with my camera, though I admit it's not the best, I got a few good shots, and today's photo is of the Giraffes. Though I wasn't close, the camera took a good closeup of the baby. I don't know why, maybe because it's unique in it's own way, but I just love the Giraffe, they seem so graceful and mysterious. Enjoy the photo, there will be more of our trip to the zoo in the VERY near future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-9066213389754212939?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/9066213389754212939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=9066213389754212939' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/9066213389754212939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/9066213389754212939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/08/hogle-zoo.html' title='Hogle Zoo'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/So7qWltKx2I/AAAAAAAAAT4/vr4DGjliszU/s72-c/049.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-3021358867205534211</id><published>2009-08-18T22:04:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T22:19:59.662-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Needed "ME" Time......</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sot9VGp9ZWI/AAAAAAAAATw/cBxIlggUYR4/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sot9VGp9ZWI/AAAAAAAAATw/cBxIlggUYR4/s320/008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371524782086776162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Today I went to Sara's house, it was the first time in 4 years that I've been there, I'm pretty ashamed of that, but we're working on it being more frequent. Anyway, she wanted to learn how to Crochet, and though I am not so good at it myself, I said I'd teach her what I know. I got to her house around 12-12:30 and we got started. We sat there, and I made her practice making chains until she felt they were good enough, then she learned a few stitches.&lt;br /&gt; We talked, worked on stitches, talked and just had some good quality time together. Right around 2 she had to take William, her son, to the school to meet his teacher. She had asked me to stay and watch Hannah for her, and while she was gone, I tried teaching Hannah how to Crochet upon her request. It wasn't a very good lesson, and we both decided she needed to wait until she was a little older. I didn't leave their house until almost 5.&lt;br /&gt; On the drive back, I got to thinking about all the fun times Sara and I had. I realized that though there was a 9yr. break, she's been my oldest friend. We're  at least on our 19th year of being friends, and I think she could be the "Patty" I've longed  for. She's more than a friend, she's a sister and I love her dearly. We have decided to use all our yarn scraps and make friendship quilts, throws, whatever you want to call them. I am also going to try to make a trip to her house every Tuesday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-3021358867205534211?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/3021358867205534211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=3021358867205534211' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/3021358867205534211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/3021358867205534211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/08/long-needed-me-time.html' title='Long Needed &quot;ME&quot; Time......'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sot9VGp9ZWI/AAAAAAAAATw/cBxIlggUYR4/s72-c/008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-2366232392156429640</id><published>2009-08-15T21:46:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T21:59:20.143-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It Doesn't Suprise Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SoeBQAidxRI/AAAAAAAAATo/-SaTH3H_l2o/s1600-h/002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SoeBQAidxRI/AAAAAAAAATo/-SaTH3H_l2o/s320/002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370403192685053202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Today was a decent day. I got up in time to have Lunch with Dave. We went and got a Jamba Juice, then came home. Just as Dave's lunch was up, Marsh, Emily, and Tucker came over for "Brunch". Mom fixed French Toast, and it was only Marsh, Emily and me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we ate, Dad played with Tucker and swung him. He had to quit after a short time because he was quite winded. The reason behind it is he and Marsh went Fishing yesterday. Somehow he fell, got stabbed by a stick, and really did a number on himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Today, after he met with his siblings (except for Marae) he decided it was time to go to the ER because he was having a hard time breathing. Mom called and let us know that was where they were, and we decided we'd go hang out up there for a bit to see what the verdict was. Basically Dad got the crap beat out of him, by Mother Nature. From what Heather told me, they gave him good drugs and sent him home. He's got a nice scratch on his belly accompanied by a bruise though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-2366232392156429640?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/2366232392156429640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=2366232392156429640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2366232392156429640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2366232392156429640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/08/it-doesnt-suprise-me.html' title='It Doesn&apos;t Suprise Me'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SoeBQAidxRI/AAAAAAAAATo/-SaTH3H_l2o/s72-c/002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-621225099577512607</id><published>2009-08-14T15:44:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T16:04:03.967-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Crafty Day.</title><content type='html'>Today I got Meado and Chloe a hour later than I was supposed to. By the time they showed up, I was a bit upset, tired and just didn't feel like dealing with kids. After their constant questioning, I pulled out my craft kit and began trying to focus on something other than wanting to strangle them. (Ok, so I really wouldn't strangle them.) Anyway, I began to paint some glass "rocks" as the girls looked on. Being as tired as I was, I wasn't sure how they'd turn out or how creative I was feeling, but I spent about 45 minutes painting them, and they turned out better then expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SoXeo9081gI/AAAAAAAAATY/Hy-F89Z79WM/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SoXeo9081gI/AAAAAAAAATY/Hy-F89Z79WM/s320/002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369942926081971714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SoXfIUDiY9I/AAAAAAAAATg/dDB0IvdFetg/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SoXfIUDiY9I/AAAAAAAAATg/dDB0IvdFetg/s320/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369943464624677842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-621225099577512607?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/621225099577512607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=621225099577512607' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/621225099577512607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/621225099577512607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/08/crafty-day.html' title='A Crafty Day.'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SoXeo9081gI/AAAAAAAAATY/Hy-F89Z79WM/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-7261296560103506919</id><published>2009-08-12T22:58:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T23:06:34.482-06:00</updated><title type='text'>BUNCO!!!</title><content type='html'>Tonight was our monthly night of playing BUNCO. We play EVERY 2nd Wednesday of the month, and it has grown since we started our group. When we started over 2yrs ago, we only had 3 tables, now we're up to 5 tables and are totally enjoying ourselves, for the most part. There are a few people that tend to ruin it for others at times, but for the most part, it's fun.With the increase of tables comes the increase of the "winnings" . For example, tonight I walked away with the most wins, $13 cash. Mom won the most BUNCO's, I didn't catch who lost the most, but Dave walked away with the Boobie prize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SoOfISyQjnI/AAAAAAAAATQ/vvTUyReLNqw/s1600-h/035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SoOfISyQjnI/AAAAAAAAATQ/vvTUyReLNqw/s320/035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369310145586171506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-7261296560103506919?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/7261296560103506919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=7261296560103506919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7261296560103506919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7261296560103506919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/08/bunco.html' title='BUNCO!!!'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SoOfISyQjnI/AAAAAAAAATQ/vvTUyReLNqw/s72-c/035.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-8456775716961816012</id><published>2009-08-10T23:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T23:24:21.281-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank the Lord Above</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SoD-xJwfRZI/AAAAAAAAATA/SKVvgqHCzFs/s1600-h/my18%5E0000.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 217px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SoD-xJwfRZI/AAAAAAAAATA/SKVvgqHCzFs/s320/my18%5E0000.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368570876211971474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a photo that was taken shortly after I entered into Young Womens. It was one of the first activities I'd attended, and as you can tell, I didn't feel very comfortable in that dress. Just as the photo was taken, somebody said quite loud, that I needed boobs, at the time, that was embarassing to me. When I first saw this picture, I cringed. Wondered what the hell I was thinking agreeing to put that thing on. I've always been kind of a Tomboy, and don't like being in frilly, girly dresses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked at this picture for a while after I found it a few months ago, and then pulled out one of my wedding photos, and realized what a butterfly I have turned into. I'm glad I didn't have the "princess" dress, that I was simple and "thrifty" with my choice of wedding dress. Though it was so simple, I had more compliments on it than I expected, and was so amazed at how well it turned out. I was worried it wouldn't turn out like I had in my head, but it was so much better. The kicker is when I look at that now, I realize how it has a bit of a Renassance look to it. That is what I love about the dress, and Mom likes that too. Here's a photo of that dress. Such a better one &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SoEAV8Ke0WI/AAAAAAAAATI/CU2B1u3qFcE/s1600-h/IMG_1186.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SoEAV8Ke0WI/AAAAAAAAATI/CU2B1u3qFcE/s320/IMG_1186.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368572607729684834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;than the above.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-8456775716961816012?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/8456775716961816012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=8456775716961816012' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/8456775716961816012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/8456775716961816012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/08/thank-lord-above.html' title='Thank the Lord Above'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SoD-xJwfRZI/AAAAAAAAATA/SKVvgqHCzFs/s72-c/my18%5E0000.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5795197271844181410</id><published>2009-08-09T23:03:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T23:13:25.983-06:00</updated><title type='text'>One of The Beauties of Pocatello</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sn-qZpKWxYI/AAAAAAAAASQ/iGFycaF6iWM/s1600-h/032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sn-qZpKWxYI/AAAAAAAAASQ/iGFycaF6iWM/s320/032.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368196638371661186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I came across these flowers on our way home from your Sunday Evening walk. I thought they were pretty, and a bit unique, at least until I ran across some other ones right next to them, I swear, they're hybrids of these white ones and the pink ones next to them, they were awesome. Hope you like, at least as much as I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sn-rwmhcfMI/AAAAAAAAASg/2TPwCSlc5e0/s1600-h/033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sn-rwmhcfMI/AAAAAAAAASg/2TPwCSlc5e0/s320/033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368198132311817410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5795197271844181410?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5795197271844181410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5795197271844181410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5795197271844181410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5795197271844181410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-came-across-these-flowers-on-our-way.html' title='One of The Beauties of Pocatello'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sn-qZpKWxYI/AAAAAAAAASQ/iGFycaF6iWM/s72-c/032.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-869508859255529635</id><published>2009-08-08T21:29:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T14:10:10.043-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Father Son Bonding Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sn5C6pEEnOI/AAAAAAAAASI/7lOLF61zW1w/s1600-h/036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sn5C6pEEnOI/AAAAAAAAASI/7lOLF61zW1w/s320/036.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367801381094989026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight when I got home from the Chaney's house, Marsh, Emily and Tucker were here visiting. Marsh had to show me that Tucker likes the "lollipop" song, yes, Marsh shouldn't quit his day job. Anyway, today's photo is of Marsh doing something that Tuck LOVES. I must say, the crazy child really is Marsh's , he is almost always carried upside down, has Marsh's signature SMELLY farts, and often times looks like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's fun to watch Marsh with him, and I get to go camping with them in a few weeks. I'm excited because it'll be a camping trip with Heather and Chas too. Yes, the siblings here in Potato Hell are all going to spend 2 days with each other, and quite possibly all in 1 vehicle. YIPPEE!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;No worries, if things get tough, I've got the TajMahal of Tents, and can easily escape to it. I'll also take 2 cameras and LOTS of pictures, so you'll get them coming with the Photo of the Day. Thanks Chrystal, for the comments and motivation, lets see how long this lasts!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-869508859255529635?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/869508859255529635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=869508859255529635' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/869508859255529635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/869508859255529635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/08/father-son-bonding-time.html' title='Father Son Bonding Time'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sn5C6pEEnOI/AAAAAAAAASI/7lOLF61zW1w/s72-c/036.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-9097184606660184056</id><published>2009-08-07T19:32:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T19:38:42.854-06:00</updated><title type='text'>One of my Favorites!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SnzWKl46DEI/AAAAAAAAASA/2MJ13sBYmJw/s1600-h/073.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SnzWKl46DEI/AAAAAAAAASA/2MJ13sBYmJw/s320/073.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367400333376621634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Ok, so I know that I've had a lot of pictures of Kaitlynn on here, but I really couldn't resist this one. I found Dave's camera last week, and decided to wipe the memory card clean. When I did, this is one of the photos I found. It was taken when she was a few months old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I really like this one, because it looks like she's saying "And if you look here" or something to the effect. This was one of the days when we were working on delivering phone books, and to keep her in the yard, we filled a kiddie pool with toys and pillows while we prepped the phone books for delivery. So, this is todays photo, and the last one until I can get internet access. Hope you enjoyed the blogs, and that I can pick up on them again sometime down the road.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-9097184606660184056?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/9097184606660184056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=9097184606660184056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/9097184606660184056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/9097184606660184056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/08/one-of-my-favorites.html' title='One of my Favorites!'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SnzWKl46DEI/AAAAAAAAASA/2MJ13sBYmJw/s72-c/073.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5946198460540254437</id><published>2009-08-07T00:13:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T00:22:18.336-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Layla Jean Christiansen</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SnvGZVE_ryI/AAAAAAAAAR4/lhAK9RgGOuU/s1600-h/048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SnvGZVE_ryI/AAAAAAAAAR4/lhAK9RgGOuU/s320/048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367101519399202594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've babysat Layla and Colby Christiansen for quite some time now, at least for all of Layla's life. At first, she would have nothing to do with Dave, she was all about being around me, now that she's older, it's reversed. She totally adores Dave and has nothing to do with me or anyone else when he's in the room. Lately she's been trying to walk, and it's fun to watch her take her first few steps before taking the easy way out and begins to crawl. As you can see in the photo, she isn't very big, and it's kind of wierd to see this "midget" baby walking through the room.&lt;br /&gt;  Like her older brother, Layla has a lot of personality, and is quite smart for a toddler. I got a wild hair the other day when they were here, and began to teach her how to say "eat" and "more" in sign language. She got them after the first try. I must say that my favorite thing about babysitting is watching the kids grow and learn new things. To think the most simple things in life are exciting and new, experience things for the first time. I like being a help in their development, and try to do things that aren't just educational, but fun as well. I adore these kids, and love watching them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5946198460540254437?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5946198460540254437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5946198460540254437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5946198460540254437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5946198460540254437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/08/layla-jean-christiansen.html' title='Layla Jean Christiansen'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SnvGZVE_ryI/AAAAAAAAAR4/lhAK9RgGOuU/s72-c/048.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-8115804081545463780</id><published>2009-08-05T18:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T18:49:03.784-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Nice Surprise</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SnooSX6sa9I/AAAAAAAAARw/JyFwB31CElM/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SnooSX6sa9I/AAAAAAAAARw/JyFwB31CElM/s320/005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366646202088319954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Today Dave and I went to pick up some EPSOM salt to soak my toe in, and when we returned home, Mom said that I had company coming. Not getting much sleep, I couldn't figure out who, so she told me. Jordyn and her son were coming to visit. I don't know why, but the little one has taken to me quite well, and it's so cute watching him with Jordyn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Because I know the situation between Archer's parents, I also knew that Jordyn doesn't get to see him much, so I told them I'd take a picture of them together. Archer is really a ham, and loves taking pictures. I must admit, it's strange to still hang out with my first love, and watch him/her become friends with my husband. I would have never thought, in a million years, that anything like that would happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-8115804081545463780?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/8115804081545463780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=8115804081545463780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/8115804081545463780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/8115804081545463780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/08/nice-surprise.html' title='A Nice Surprise'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SnooSX6sa9I/AAAAAAAAARw/JyFwB31CElM/s72-c/005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-7255803166206515802</id><published>2009-07-24T00:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T00:42:35.302-06:00</updated><title type='text'>One Giant Headache And Lesson Learned</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SmlXuIfvZ2I/AAAAAAAAARo/mz6TXvJaEm8/s1600-h/031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SmlXuIfvZ2I/AAAAAAAAARo/mz6TXvJaEm8/s320/031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361913281427498850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; On Tuesday, Marsh, Emily, Heather, Dave and I went to lunch at McDonalds. I wasn't that hungry, and neither was Heather, so we got Happy Meals. We all sat down and ate our lunch, Dave finished eating before everyone else and had to get back home to get to work, so I sent him ahead of us in the Tahoe. Before he left, I placed my wallet in my happy meal box with my apples I planed on eating later, and asked him to take them home for me. He said ok and then left, nothing else was said.&lt;br /&gt; Thursday afternoon/early evening, I was getting ready to take Heather to dinner on my Gift Certificat to Texas Roadhouse, compliments of Jordyn, when I realized I didn't have my wallet. I turned to Dave and asked him what he'd done with the happy meal box, and I got the response I was hoping I'd never hear. "You told me to throw it away." I was horrified. Not only did it have my ID, Debit Cards, and at least $15 in it, but it also contained all my medical cards, pre paid legal card and other important items.&lt;br /&gt; Why I did it, I don't know for sure, but I called up McDonald's and asked them when their trash gets dumped. To my dismay, they said it was just dumped today. I tearfully (yes, I cried over it) explained to them that there was a HUGE miscommunication between my husband and I, and he accidentally trashed my wallet on Tuesday. The gentleman on the phone apologized, and we hung up. Not knowing exactly what else to do, I called and ordered replacement debit cards, and then tried to gain my composure.&lt;br /&gt; Once I was calmed down, Heather and I went to eat at Texas Roadhouse though we really couldn't afford it, it was a sacrafice that needed to be made because we were in serious need of Sister Time. I talked to her about the incident a little bit, and was shocked to hear that Dave asked her to drive him to McDonald's so he could go "dumpster diving". What was more impressive, and really touched me was that Heather offered to go dumpster diving with him to find my wallet. It meant a lot, and to those of you who know Heather, you know it was a BIG gesture on her part.&lt;br /&gt; We had a wonderful time at dinner, talked about different things, how much her husband is liked, her car, whatever was on our minds at the time. After dinner, we came home, she went to help Chas and I got online for a bit. Now I'm going to spend time with my husband, and try to make him feel better about the whole thing. I'm slowly getting over it, and kind of dread getting a new photo ID, oh well, it's gotta be done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-7255803166206515802?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/7255803166206515802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=7255803166206515802' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7255803166206515802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7255803166206515802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/07/one-giant-headache-and-lesson-learned.html' title='One Giant Headache And Lesson Learned'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SmlXuIfvZ2I/AAAAAAAAARo/mz6TXvJaEm8/s72-c/031.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-1037623652815009083</id><published>2009-07-23T16:27:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T16:46:32.704-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Sister</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Smjk2wwP0lI/AAAAAAAAARg/wcNxpzvlL74/s1600-h/heatherandmonroe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Smjk2wwP0lI/AAAAAAAAARg/wcNxpzvlL74/s320/heatherandmonroe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361786985835909714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; This particular post is based solely on my sister, Heather. As everyone knows, she's been pretty hard to live with at times, and even harder on me. Though we've had some pretty rough patches, I would like to say that her and I have grown a LOT closer over the last few years, and I really love her to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently she's been feeling neglected by me, mainly because I've been busy with things here on the computer.&lt;br /&gt;I feel pretty bad that I've been spending a lot of time on here, but there are things that need to be done, and unfortunately it takes a lot of my time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To get back on track though, I want to let my sister know how proud of her I am. Though she has a knack for making enemies, she's also got a pretty big heart. I've seen her fall, hit rock bottom, and I've seen her pick herself back up and bounce back harder than ever. She survived abuse, a divorce, and finally found that one person who makes her the happiest in life. I see the way they are with each other and know they're in love. It's rare these days when she's moody and angry at the world, most of the time she's pretty laid back and loves her life. Heather, if you read this, I really love you, and am proud to call you my sister. I am happy you found your best friend, that you compliment each other and wish you the best in life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-1037623652815009083?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/1037623652815009083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=1037623652815009083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/1037623652815009083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/1037623652815009083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-sister.html' title='My Sister'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Smjk2wwP0lI/AAAAAAAAARg/wcNxpzvlL74/s72-c/heatherandmonroe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-371918924729344895</id><published>2009-07-13T14:24:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T14:32:59.934-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday Fun</title><content type='html'>Janelle asked me to watch Kaitlynn while her and Lee did 3 mystery shops. Normally they take her with them, but she wasn't allowed to go, so she spent the day with me. Meado and Chloe were supposed to come over as well, but their parents were having problems and I didn't get them. Anyway, to make sure she had fun, we went to the park, and played on the slides. They had a bridge there that she was afraid to cross, so I reassured her it'd be ok, and then when I got on it, I showed her how fun it was to jump and make the bridge shake. We played there for a while, then decided it was time to head on out to get Jamba Juices for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;On our way to Jamba Juice, we decided to go to McKee's to see the animals. She requested to see frogs, so I showed the frogs to her. Kaitlynn had a lot of fun just seeing the different animals and saying Hi to all of them. When we got to Jamba Juice, she paid for the items we bought, waited for them, and then helped me into the Tahoe with them. When we got home, she took Dave's down to him, and then we watched a movie until her parents came to pick her up. Kaitlynn didn't want to go home, she was having too much fun blowing bubbles in the front yard, and even threw a fit when I took the bubbles from her and told her she could do it at home if it was ok with mommy. I hope I get more times with her in the future, she's a special little girl who is full of personality and love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SluZkYfjO9I/AAAAAAAAARQ/PchsRb5BqoI/s1600-h/018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SluZkYfjO9I/AAAAAAAAARQ/PchsRb5BqoI/s320/018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358045032016460754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SluZklmKIzI/AAAAAAAAARY/ZQJF13D3wAk/s1600-h/019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SluZklmKIzI/AAAAAAAAARY/ZQJF13D3wAk/s320/019.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358045035533837106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-371918924729344895?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/371918924729344895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=371918924729344895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/371918924729344895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/371918924729344895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/07/saturday-fun.html' title='Saturday Fun'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SluZkYfjO9I/AAAAAAAAARQ/PchsRb5BqoI/s72-c/018.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-8808976928491532900</id><published>2009-07-12T17:45:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T18:09:58.846-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick Trip To Twin</title><content type='html'>On Thursday, July 9th, Dave, Joesph and I made a quick surprise visit to his family in Twin Falls. We expected Dad to be working, but when we got there, to our shock, he was out mowing the lawn. He had one of those rare days off, so we got to spend the whole day together. We dropped off Joe so he could do his laundry, but left it in the Tahoe while we went to lunch with Andy. We went to a Mexican restaurant for lunch. It took forever to get there due to construction, but when we got there, I got a chicken sandwich. I thought when I ordered it, that it'd be like any other chicken sandwich you'd order in a restaurant, about the size of a hamburger. Imagine the shock on ALL our faces, when I'm presented with a half a loaf of bread with a chicken breast on it the size of a frizbee. I am  not exaggerating on this, and was done eating after 4 bites of this sandwich. Needless to say, I brought the rest home to snack on for the rest of the week.&lt;br /&gt;After lunch, we did a little light shopping and then it was off to Wal-Mart to visit Jacob since he had to work. When we got back to the house, I gave the girls their hats that I bought for them. They LOVED them. Faith kept hers on most of the time, Sara did a lot of poses in hers for a bit then they came off. Because of all his scratching, I took Merlyn with us as well. Come to find out that Faith is terrified of dogs, it was a shock to see that she took to Merlyn, almost too well. She'd follow him around, talk to him, hug him, and just made him real nervous with not leaving him alone. All the nephews enjoyed him too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Slp5MUkkBPI/AAAAAAAAARA/iIg0S8gc4nQ/s1600-h/079.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Slp5MUkkBPI/AAAAAAAAARA/iIg0S8gc4nQ/s320/079.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357727959298082034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, since the visits are far and few between, I took my camera and took pictures, here they are, at least my favorite ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Sara Grace Hiedenblute                                                                                                        Faith Hannah Hiedenblute&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Slp3edEU4oI/AAAAAAAAAQo/1fq2EZNKqnE/s1600-h/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Slp3edEU4oI/AAAAAAAAAQo/1fq2EZNKqnE/s320/011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357726071793181314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Slp4g7pRooI/AAAAAAAAAQw/VJ7F3vjO6pQ/s1600-h/014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Slp4g7pRooI/AAAAAAAAAQw/VJ7F3vjO6pQ/s320/014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357727213872587394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faith Hannah, Sara Grace, Matthew Zachary, Isaac Lee, and Joshua Ryan aka "The Tank"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Slp6spgrQhI/AAAAAAAAARI/EVEp-Xow3tw/s1600-h/043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Slp6spgrQhI/AAAAAAAAARI/EVEp-Xow3tw/s320/043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357729614186365458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-8808976928491532900?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/8808976928491532900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=8808976928491532900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/8808976928491532900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/8808976928491532900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/07/quick-trip-to-twin.html' title='Quick Trip To Twin'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Slp5MUkkBPI/AAAAAAAAARA/iIg0S8gc4nQ/s72-c/079.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5737182724441393380</id><published>2009-06-25T20:13:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T20:44:35.485-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye to Good Talent....</title><content type='html'>As everyone has heard by now, Michael Jackson passed away from that appears to be a heart attack, at the golden age of 50. Many people think of him as this freaky child molester, or a monster, either way, he was quite quirky to say the least. Regardless of all this, his career started at an early age, and unlike a lot of child stars, his name never fizzled out, instead, it grew to Pop Royalty.&lt;br /&gt; What I think is sad about Michael Jackson is that he was not happy with himself, maybe it was because of how he was raised, or because he grew up in the public's eye, but you can tell that he was never comfortable in his own skin. He started out as a handsome young man of the African-American nature, but in the end, was not much more than a skeleton with flesh on it.&lt;br /&gt; I must admit, he was heavily judged by his actions, but he definitely knew how to sing. Some of my favorite songs were "You Are Not Alone", "Black Or White", "Smooth Criminal", "Will You Be There", and "Heal The World". Not only do I like the music to these songs, but the lyrics, especially on You Are Not Alone and Will You Be There. I've got Heal The World on here, listen as it's sung, Michael has a very good point in this song. Hope you like it as well as I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W61Q-EZ8R7M"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W61Q-EZ8R7M&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We shouldn't  judge the wrong doings of any man, that's something that we have to leave up to our maker, so lets just remember Michael Jackson for the POSITIVE things he's done in his life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5737182724441393380?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='' href='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W61Q-EZ8R7M' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5737182724441393380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5737182724441393380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5737182724441393380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5737182724441393380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/06/goodbye-to-good-talent.html' title='Goodbye to Good Talent....'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-6421797028397844967</id><published>2009-06-15T00:12:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T00:40:51.133-06:00</updated><title type='text'>FARKEL</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SjXqUHGYnEI/AAAAAAAAAOI/XXv6C_t4YqM/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SjXqUHGYnEI/AAAAAAAAAOI/XXv6C_t4YqM/s320/001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347437763796442178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Being a Facebook Junkie as some would call me, I have found a game called Farkel. Some people describe it as Yahtzee on crack, I just think it's a fun new dice game. Until recently, I thought it was a computer game, but then I got curious and Googled it. Come to find out that it's a REAL game, and comes in a travel tube. I have searched the local stores for this game, and haven't had any luck, that is until we went to Idaho Falls Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;After spending what seemed like HOURS at the zoo, we went to lunch and then to the Mall. While we were walking through the mall, we went to Barnes and Noble so Dave could find a book he was looking for. I began to get curious, and went to see what games they had. As I rounded the corner, I came to a shelf that had 5 Farkel games on it. After the shock of actually finding it wore off, I looked at the price and decided to get it.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't played it yet, and plan on it soon. Dave hasn't played it, and doesn't seem to want to, but I'm going to at least get him to try it once. If he likes it that's fine, if not, at least he tried it. It's one of those games you can play alone, and I"m sure you could make it so you played it like BUNCO. Knowing me, I'd find a way to do it that way. Anyway, that's the highlight I guess, next to finding out that BASKIN ROBBIN  still carries my Daqueri Ice. I know that a 5 gallon tub of it is in my future. Enjoy the photos, some are of the zoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SjXsDs0H7ZI/AAAAAAAAAOg/yNmKmLPyuSA/s1600-h/291.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SjXsDs0H7ZI/AAAAAAAAAOg/yNmKmLPyuSA/s320/291.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347439680885878162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SjXsjfpiAWI/AAAAAAAAAOo/p_QA6xxROx4/s1600-h/263.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 310px; height: 232px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SjXsjfpiAWI/AAAAAAAAAOo/p_QA6xxROx4/s320/263.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347440227107602786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heather thought it was cute that I had my head in the lions mouth, little does she know I feel that way every day. The duck literally dive bombed us twice while we were walking through. They should post a sign that says "Beware of  KomaKazi Ducks" or somethin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-6421797028397844967?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/6421797028397844967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=6421797028397844967' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6421797028397844967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6421797028397844967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/06/farkel.html' title='FARKEL'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SjXqUHGYnEI/AAAAAAAAAOI/XXv6C_t4YqM/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-6920820550723176813</id><published>2009-06-12T15:16:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T15:38:15.941-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Anniversary Day 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SjLF7nAsGpI/AAAAAAAAAOA/SWhMzZ7EkTM/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SjLF7nAsGpI/AAAAAAAAAOA/SWhMzZ7EkTM/s320/004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346553335517026962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We spent last night at a cabin that Emily's family let us use. We were allowed to stay there all weekend, but changed our mind and came home early, though things aren't over for us yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we first got there, these flowers were our welcoming. They were EVERYWHERE we turned, and it was a really nice change to have. Though we didn't stay as long as we'd have preferred, it was a reminder at how much I love the outdoors, and how we all get too caught up in Technology, how much we really do depend on it. It was nice to just stop, and take a breather to reflect on and enjoy the most simple things in life. The short time we spent up there was fantastic. We didn't mind having to clean things up a little bit, and the cabin was quite cozy. The view was worth it all though. It reminded me of the simple things in life. I always feel closer to the lord in the mountains, I feel the spirit better without the distractions of other people, and it takes away my anxieties of life. I'm sure if the rain wasn't so frequent, we'd have stayed longer, but really, it was worth it to just spend a day there, enjoying the beauty the Lord has to offer. I'm off to see what Day 2 of our Anniversary Weekend has to offer us, I'll keep you posted.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-6920820550723176813?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/6920820550723176813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=6920820550723176813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6920820550723176813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6920820550723176813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/06/anniversary-day-1.html' title='Anniversary Day 1'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SjLF7nAsGpI/AAAAAAAAAOA/SWhMzZ7EkTM/s72-c/004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-236090754594065244</id><published>2009-06-10T23:27:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T23:37:01.615-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Good but BUSY Day</title><content type='html'>I got up surprisingly early this morning, 7:30 and didn't go back to bed or take a nap. Last night Dave and I did the Wii Active, and it KICKED MY BUTT. I tried the easiest mode they had and when I got to the squats, I was beat. Anyway, I got up, showered, and then went to Wal-Mart with Mom to get stuff for BUNCO. When we got home, it was time to take Tucker to his appointment. We got there, the doc looked him over, he got his shots and then after eating, he came home.&lt;br /&gt;  When I got back, I thought I'd take Merlyn in to have them look at his neck and see how it was doing. He got an OK to go camping with us this weekend, still needs a warm compress on it, and then we're supposed to bring him back when we get home from camping. When I got back from the Vet, Whitney colored my hair, you can check it out at www.daveandjesslage.blogspot.com  I think I'm really liking the color, Dave LOVES it, your opinions are welcome.&lt;br /&gt;  Tonight I made the infamous Kitty Litter Cake. The recipe I have is vague, so it turned out different than what it was supposed to be, but it went over surprising well. The first comments were "Oh, thats awesome". Stuart said it, and was totally excited to eat it. Everyone else thought it looked gross, but after they got past that first "shock" of seeing it, they all loved it and Marsh went as far as playing with the "poop" as he ate. This recipe is definately a keeper.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-236090754594065244?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/236090754594065244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=236090754594065244' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/236090754594065244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/236090754594065244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/06/good-but-busy-day.html' title='A Good but BUSY Day'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-7906920103041229992</id><published>2009-06-07T18:19:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T18:28:21.713-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My "NEW" Experiment</title><content type='html'>So during Christmas, a local radio station, Classy 97, put out free cookbooks, with recipe's from people all over South East Idaho. I got my hands on one of them, and as I was flipping through the desserts, I ran across one that I thought would be a bit fun to try. Before I tell you exactly what it is, the following are the ingredients: Vanilla pudding, White Sandwich Cookies, Spice Cake Mix, White Cake Mix, green food coloring and Tootsie Rolls.&lt;br /&gt;Think this sounds good??? How bout if you saw the end results, think you'd want to give it a try??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SixaWFNG-SI/AAAAAAAAAN4/n0o7KCuN6FU/s1600-h/kitty-litter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SixaWFNG-SI/AAAAAAAAAN4/n0o7KCuN6FU/s320/kitty-litter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344746193182718242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yes, it looks a bit disgusting, and if you guessed a Kitty Litter Cake, you're right. Sure, this makes you think of the real thing, but I"m sure it's so much better. I will be making this dessert for BUNCO this week, and all the people there will be my guinea pigs. We'll see who is brave enough to try it, and how weak people's stomachs really are. I've got the recipe if you want it, let me know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also gonna be changing my hair. I will make sure I take a picture of the final product and post it. I would LOVE your honest opinion of it, and what not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-7906920103041229992?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/7906920103041229992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=7906920103041229992' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7906920103041229992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/7906920103041229992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-new-experiment.html' title='My &quot;NEW&quot; Experiment'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SixaWFNG-SI/AAAAAAAAAN4/n0o7KCuN6FU/s72-c/kitty-litter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-6105722607011610228</id><published>2009-05-29T14:33:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T01:23:24.044-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Patient From HELL</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SiTRjL5l0bI/AAAAAAAAANo/WYV1xCC9AMg/s1600-h/Phone+11-01-08+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SiTRjL5l0bI/AAAAAAAAANo/WYV1xCC9AMg/s200/Phone+11-01-08+013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342625460388221362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Ok, so it's been a week or so since Merlyn became Karma's chew toy. The doc removed his drain Friday, the 29th and said to continue flushing the wound, and warm compresses periodically through the day. Doing so has become a task that NOBODY wants. Lately, Merlyn has been in such pain that he lies on his back when he sees his Betadine bottle, and shows his teeth. The other night, everyone was busy, and it came time to flush his wound, so I pulled him out of his kennel, and just as I got Betadine in his wound, he screamed, snapped at me and then dashed under the bed.&lt;br /&gt;  Knowing that he'd snap at me again, but needing him back in his kennel where he was safe, I shook a grocery bag under the bed at him, which normally scares him out. This time, he attacked the bag with extreme anger, so I took a Candy Cane decoration and poked him. He ran out from under the bed, and then I couldn't contain my laughter with what happened next. Rather than running to his kennel, he sat between the wall and our bed, and YELLED at me. He chewed me out for a good 10 minutes, angry barks, growls and snarls. I sat there, and told him to let it all out, to tell me about it and let me know when he was done with his tantrum.&lt;br /&gt;  He soon calmed down, cowered over to me where I gave him some reassuring pets, a few treats and a kiss on the head. Once Merlyn was satisfied I wasn't trying to be mean, he rushed to the safety of his kennel where he stayed the rest of the night.  He started out on this whole thing as a good patient, taking his pills when he needed to, sitting still when I flushed his wound and what not, but now, we've had to muzzle him A LOT, and just recently, because he scratches his wound, we were ordered to put a sock on his foot. All I can say is that I'll be glad when he's all healed up. Though Dave doesn't, I miss him sleeping on the bed by me, keeping me warm. He's getting active more these days though, and when he's better, he's gonna start excersising with me each day.&lt;br /&gt;  That's about it, there will be more to come, later. Gotta keep ya hanging on somehow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-6105722607011610228?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/6105722607011610228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=6105722607011610228' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6105722607011610228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6105722607011610228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/05/patient-from-hell.html' title='The Patient From HELL'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SiTRjL5l0bI/AAAAAAAAANo/WYV1xCC9AMg/s72-c/Phone+11-01-08+013.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5029334001959014546</id><published>2009-05-16T17:27:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T18:21:52.683-06:00</updated><title type='text'>You Don't Count The Cost.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sg9QfDP0dkI/AAAAAAAAANg/s9C6QZMsS7o/s1600-h/Hot+Love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sg9QfDP0dkI/AAAAAAAAANg/s9C6QZMsS7o/s200/Hot+Love.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336572577835152962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  I had an interesting conversation with Dan the other day. It was more a question he asked me, with all the problems I had with them, is trying for a friendship with Janelle really worth it??? That question really weighed on my mind since then, mainly trying to figure out a way to put into words what I feel about it all. Today, while I was on a downer, I was listening to the music I've been adding to the computer. "You don't count the cost" by Billy Dean came on, and it hit right away. Hopefully, with the help of the song, it can give everyone a better understanding of why I put myself in that situation. The following is the 3rd verse of the song, and part of the chorus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It happens all around us&lt;br /&gt;Each and every day&lt;br /&gt;Someone's giving all they got&lt;br /&gt;For someone else's sake&lt;br /&gt;If you ever doubt it&lt;br /&gt;Just think about the cross&lt;br /&gt;When it comes to love, you don't count the cost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't count the heartache&lt;br /&gt;You don't count the sacrifice&lt;br /&gt;All that counts is what you feel inside&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't really matter what is gained or what is lost&lt;br /&gt;When it comes to love, you don't count the cost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Yes, I've been treated like crap. Yes I have been wrongfully accused and disrespected, but that does not matter , not if you're trying to practice having that Christ-Like love for others. I am striving to be a better person, to forgive those who have hurt me and/or my loved ones, and to forgive myself. Maybe I am too attached to the kids I watch, especially Kaitlynn, but it can't be helped if you watch them 90% of their life. I'm trying to have a friendship with Janelle that does not center around Kaitlynn because she's a good person. Some would THINK I feel sorry for her, maybe part of me does. All the problems I have are with Lee, he triggers it all, and yes, I feel at times that she should correct him when he's wrongfully going psycho on those who are just trying to be his friend, but I can't condemn her for standing by her husband. Don't they teach us to cleave unto your spouse???&lt;br /&gt;  I don't have to have contact with Lee to be friends with Janelle. He can hate and distrust me all he wants, that's something he has to explain to his maker. I won't be held accountable, I'm trying to be the better person, and I can't be mean or disrespect him because he's Janelle's husband and Kaitlynn's father. Let him say what he wants, I know the truth, and all I can do is pray for him. I'm leaving it all in the Lord's hands, right now, we're communicating through texts and instant messaging. It's all baby steps, and what happens will happen. If we both want a friendship, it will work. Like the song says, "when it comes to Love, you don't count the cost."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5029334001959014546?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5029334001959014546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5029334001959014546' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5029334001959014546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5029334001959014546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/05/you-dont-count-cost.html' title='You Don&apos;t Count The Cost.'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sg9QfDP0dkI/AAAAAAAAANg/s9C6QZMsS7o/s72-c/Hot+Love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5974713087762344064</id><published>2009-05-12T01:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T01:40:57.633-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Very Special Mother's Day Wish</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SgklcLTXHoI/AAAAAAAAANY/d-YlJ3_PKNc/s1600-h/031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 159px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SgklcLTXHoI/AAAAAAAAANY/d-YlJ3_PKNc/s200/031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334836399597624962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I was diagnosed with PCOS, Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. For those of you who don't know much about it, basically I have cysts on my ovaries, my body produces more testosterone than normal, and I'm at risk for type 2 diabetes. It also makes it harder to be able to conceive. Since I was diagnosed with this condition, Dave and I have been very unsuccessful at having a child. We've tried and tried, practiced and practice, and had no luck. Over the past 2 yrs, I've had 2 miscarriages, the recent one being back in June.&lt;br /&gt;  Very few people know that I'd have a child the same age or a little older, than Tucker. Whenever I hold him, and he smiles up at me, I can't help but think it's my children's way of saying "Hi Mom" through their cousin Tucker. Mother's Day was not an easy day for me to trudge through. I fought the sadness that kept creeping in, knowing that Heather and Emily are mothers. (Heather is a stepmom to 4 kids.) As I was taking care of things on Facebook, trying to keep myself busy and distracted from my thoughts, I got a text message. Thinking it was a thank you from somebody I wished a Happy Mother's Day to, I took a look, and realized it was from Dave, who was working.&lt;br /&gt;  As I read the text, my tears started falling. Yes, they were tears of sadness, but also tears of pure love for my husband. I never really realized how deeply he loved me until that text message. This is what it said. " Just because our child is not with us right now, does not mean you do not get a Happy Mother's Day today. I love you!" I take him for granted a lot, and with the issues Lee and Janelle have with me, the way I've felt about myself for the last few weeks, I realized after that one text, that I've been pretty selfish. I've taken Dave for granted and didn't really pay any attention to his needs or feelings. I've been preoccupied, wallering in my self pity.&lt;br /&gt;  I am really blessed to have Dave in my life, and I would not trade him for anyone else. He has put up with a lot with me, and I don't know how he does it. I think the world of him, and with that one little sentence, it opened my eyes up to his heart. I LOVE YOU DAVE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5974713087762344064?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5974713087762344064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5974713087762344064' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5974713087762344064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5974713087762344064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/05/very-special-mothers-day-wish.html' title='A Very Special Mother&apos;s Day Wish'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SgklcLTXHoI/AAAAAAAAANY/d-YlJ3_PKNc/s72-c/031.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5072431693991748475</id><published>2009-04-26T21:24:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T21:37:07.882-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Out Of The Mouths Of Babes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SfUlyRdoyhI/AAAAAAAAANQ/mBzbYlgsglg/s1600-h/030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SfUlyRdoyhI/AAAAAAAAANQ/mBzbYlgsglg/s200/030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329207279674247698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Recently my integrity was in question, along with how I run my babysitting. The issues that caused all of this really cut me to the core, and although I just wanted to seclude myself and wallow in my pain, I had to continue working. Layla and Colby have been around me since all this started, and I've been such a wreck that I had to ask Dave for a well needed blessing. I LOVE the power of the priesthood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Yesterday, Colby went out of his way to pay attention to me and be a friend. While he was sitting in my lap, I told this very intelligent 4yr old that the reason I was so upset and kept crying is because I've been told I was a bad babysitter. Yes, I may be taking that too hard, but it's something I love to do, watch kids since I don't have any of my own yet. When somebody attacks me that way, I take it hard, and it hurts DEEP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  When I told Colby about being a bad babysitter, he looked up at me seriously, and said something that I will never forget, and made me smile. He said "Jess, when I come over again, I'll teach you how to be a good babysitter." I told him thank you, and smiled. He and Layla have been a big help through this hard time, as well as my friends and family. The one thing I love the most about watching children are the things they say. You can not only teach a child a lot, but you can learn a lot from them as well. I know why they say be like children, not only are they innocent, but they see the world in a simple way, not complicated, and that's how it should be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5072431693991748475?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5072431693991748475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5072431693991748475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5072431693991748475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5072431693991748475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/04/out-of-mouths-of-babes.html' title='Out Of The Mouths Of Babes'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SfUlyRdoyhI/AAAAAAAAANQ/mBzbYlgsglg/s72-c/030.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-3016046228097251430</id><published>2009-04-19T22:27:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T23:05:54.779-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Entertainment</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sev6q0G-YVI/AAAAAAAAAMw/bgbgH3ZnwQU/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sev6q0G-YVI/AAAAAAAAAMw/bgbgH3ZnwQU/s200/012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326626597745090898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Mom wanted to take Karma to the park and work with her on her training. I told her that I wanted to work with Mason a little because he's slacking on his obedience. We not only took Mason and Karma, but Merlyn followed without a leash. He did great staying with us, and listened to me when I called him over. He really seemed to enjoy his jaunt to and from the park, and was a big help at being a distraction to the other dogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got to the park, I let Mason off of his leash and began playing fetch with him and Merlyn, while Mom worked with Karma. Just as they got to the grass, Karma took off after Mason and Merlyn, and knocked Mom to the ground. Though I shouldn't have, I laughed because it looked really funny. I profusely appologized to her, then helped her up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SewB6QOsbTI/AAAAAAAAANA/R-tb7_jP5ac/s1600-h/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SewB6QOsbTI/AAAAAAAAANA/R-tb7_jP5ac/s200/011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326634559573093682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I sat around and played with Mason and Merlyn while watching how Mom worked with Karma. Before she began her walk through the park, I suggest she try out Mason's PRONG collar on Karma because her choke chain was too big and wasn't doing the trick. Mom immediately saw an improvement and had less of a hard time with Karma. When I watched for a while, I approached Mom and Karma and gave them a few tips. We went home after about 30 minutes, but had a good session. Tomorrow we will work with her again, and I will find an extra link to my extra prong collar for Karma. I'm off to be with my hubby now. NIGHT!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-3016046228097251430?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/3016046228097251430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=3016046228097251430' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/3016046228097251430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/3016046228097251430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/04/entertainment.html' title='Entertainment'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sev6q0G-YVI/AAAAAAAAAMw/bgbgH3ZnwQU/s72-c/012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-800796312613364361</id><published>2009-04-17T18:16:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T18:31:26.349-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The New Kids</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SekdJkJSeII/AAAAAAAAAMg/7DcfjP_lYto/s1600-h/DSCF2009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SekdJkJSeII/AAAAAAAAAMg/7DcfjP_lYto/s200/DSCF2009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325820084500985986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so I'm not watching Kaitlynn full time anymore, but luck would have it, this woman who works at COSTCO needed a sitter for her 2 girls, and saw how good I was with Kaitlynn and asked if I was up for the job. We agreed on a price and I started watching them just this week. This little munchkin is Meado (pronounced Meadow) and believe it or not, she's 3yrs old. This is just the adjustment period, and she's so inquisitive to the point it's almost annoying. We're working on establishing who's BOSS between her and I, and predict that she'll be no problem once she adjusts. She has really taken to Dave, and looks forward to seeing him every day. The only downfall of the situation is that she's always looking forward to playing with Kaitlynn and Kaitlynn isn't with us anymore. Instead, she spends a few hours with me without any other kids, then we get her sister from &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SekePxgjE_I/AAAAAAAAAMo/z0womdY76QE/s1600-h/DSCF2004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SekePxgjE_I/AAAAAAAAAMo/z0womdY76QE/s200/DSCF2004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325821290679047154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kindergarten at 1pm. That leads us to Chloe.&lt;br /&gt;   Chloe is 6yrs old and a really sweet kid. She's not doing bad at adjusting to me and establishing the understanding that I'm in charge, and helps out a lot with Meado.  I can tell these kids are going to be as much fun as Kaitlynn, but more of a handful. We'll see for sure how good they'll be. It's interesting, their Dad use to work for Dave Fredrickson, and his cousin is married to my cousin.&lt;br /&gt;  Speaking of the kids, I've gotta get going to find something to keep them from being bored. They're having plenty of fun hiding under the computer desk, but unfortunately, it doesn't last forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-800796312613364361?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/800796312613364361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=800796312613364361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/800796312613364361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/800796312613364361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/04/new-kids.html' title='The New Kids'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SekdJkJSeII/AAAAAAAAAMg/7DcfjP_lYto/s72-c/DSCF2009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5225711475917166601</id><published>2009-04-09T21:48:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T22:08:11.644-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Working Miracles</title><content type='html'>Ok, so y'all know that we've got more dogs than what we care to have. We've had to keep Dante and Tika separate because Tika and Karma don't get along. Since she started obedience training, Karma has been more mellow around the other dogs, including Tika the few times they've crossed paths. Today, being unable to fight my curiosity any longer, I let Karma and Tika meet in the livingroom without any other dogs around.&lt;br /&gt;  Normally when you introduce dogs, they're in a controlled environment with both being on leashes, the most control this had was they had humans in the room with Shake cans. Everything went fine, they tried to play with each other, then I got even more brave, and let them in the back yard with Dante and Gus. One by one, I let the other dogs out with them until I got down to Nellie. Nellie didn't want to go outside, so  I didn't make her. Tika and Karma played HARD with each other for a good hour or so, and even longer once I brought all the other dogs in. Here's what I captured  while they were playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-a425a49f3a5fd6af" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v11.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da425a49f3a5fd6af%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331240917%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D13F2452E7FBCF4F8A9AA4088891C84197BCF74E2.31EB15EC86DE68969FA300771C40CDED3B98119C%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da425a49f3a5fd6af%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D1y93nQtL9kLjxmAT69SGVJqrQOU&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v11.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da425a49f3a5fd6af%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331240917%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D13F2452E7FBCF4F8A9AA4088891C84197BCF74E2.31EB15EC86DE68969FA300771C40CDED3B98119C%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da425a49f3a5fd6af%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D1y93nQtL9kLjxmAT69SGVJqrQOU&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5225711475917166601?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=a425a49f3a5fd6af&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5225711475917166601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5225711475917166601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5225711475917166601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5225711475917166601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/04/working-miracles.html' title='Working Miracles'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-3012334844475072153</id><published>2009-04-06T10:21:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T10:40:49.411-06:00</updated><title type='text'>One Time Deal</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SdowhnTTQjI/AAAAAAAAAMY/Z3P8QHW3l2o/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SdowhnTTQjI/AAAAAAAAAMY/Z3P8QHW3l2o/s200/002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321619263735415346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, Dave and I had discussed things to do with our tax returns. Last month Emily invited me to a Jewelry party, and I attended it with her. While at the party, we were asked if we wanted to host a party ourselves,  to help the hostess get more "rewards". I thought, what can it hurt, so I signed up for a party. I was surprised with how many people showed up for the party, and when all was said and done, the only one who bought anything was me. Mom and Heather wanted some jewelry, and Mom didn't have enough for what she wanted, so after discussing things with Dave, we paid for hers, mine and got Heather some at a discounted price.&lt;br /&gt; Shamefully, with the jewelry we bought, it all totaled, after discounts and so called "Freebies" our total was $300. We found that we were heavily taxed on the "free" and discounted items. After the order was finalized and all was said and done, I sat down and figured out item by item how much we would have spent without any discounts and freebies, and we actually saved $500.  We didn't spend our federal tax return on what we really wanted to, but we've decided that we're not buying ANY kind of jewelry for a long time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-3012334844475072153?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/3012334844475072153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=3012334844475072153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/3012334844475072153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/3012334844475072153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/04/one-time-deal.html' title='One Time Deal'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SdowhnTTQjI/AAAAAAAAAMY/Z3P8QHW3l2o/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-6345749327984064902</id><published>2009-03-27T08:32:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T08:39:37.152-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Created A Monster</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sczj1w2ZXdI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/yCiBlXCAMxg/s1600-h/Stuff+023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sczj1w2ZXdI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/yCiBlXCAMxg/s200/Stuff+023.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317875772803341778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  About a month ago, Mom took me, Heather, Emily, Tucker, and Kaitlynn to lunch at Sizzler. While we were there, Mom ran into an old classmate of hers, and was asked to set up a Facebook account. Later that evening, I set her up with one, and began teaching her how to use it. Since then, she's become what I love to call a "Facebook Junkie". When we go to the store and she bumps into somebody she knows, she asks them if they're on Facebook, and if they say no, she tells them that they should open an account on it. When she's home, she spends a lot of time on it, tending to her farms, taking quizes, or just throwing nasty food at people.&lt;br /&gt;  I cannot say I'm at all that innocent either. As I type this, I have another tab opened to my facebook, periodically checking who's on there. I have found people I haven't been in contact with since Jr. High, people I never kept in touch with, and just really enjoy it. I will admit, it gives mom and I another thing to "Bond " over. Anyway, for those of you who were curious about what mom does after work, now you know......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-6345749327984064902?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/6345749327984064902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=6345749327984064902' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6345749327984064902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6345749327984064902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/03/ive-created-monster.html' title='I&apos;ve Created A Monster'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/Sczj1w2ZXdI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/yCiBlXCAMxg/s72-c/Stuff+023.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-9081773754456256714</id><published>2009-03-16T18:45:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T19:03:55.071-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Some Thoughts</title><content type='html'>For the past month or so, I'll be sitting there, and all of a sudden I'll say to myself, "I hate my life". To an extent it's true, I don't like my life, and I know everyone feels that way at some time in their lives but it's just so flipping annoying to feel that way and not know why. Because of that feeling, I've been trying to figure out why I feel that way so I can change that.&lt;br /&gt; Part of the problem is living with my parents, it makes me feel like I've become a burden on them, like I'm some kind of failure and disappointment. I know this is not true, but it's hard to feel that way when you go from living life on your own and then having to move back in with the parents as an adult. Somebody once said that I have way too much drama in my life, they're right, I do but I have tried and am still trying to fix that.&lt;br /&gt;  Friendship was an extremely important thing for me, and to an extent it still is, but it's hard to keep friends. I thought I was working on a good friendship with the woman I babysit for, but I feel like it's just business with her now. We never talk or do things like we use to, when she talks to me, its' usually about watching her daughter. All my other friends seem to have dropped like dead flies as well, what's wrong with me????&lt;br /&gt;  As for Kids, you all know how bad I want them, and babysitting other people's children fills that void, but it's not healthy for me to get attached to them the way I have, and I just don't like it. I've been on my anti-depressants for quite some time now, and I'm realizing that they may not be all that I need, maybe I need to talk to somebody. One thing I want to change for sure is my inactivity in the church. I want to get back there, get my recommend renewed and go to the Temple on a regular basis. I'm tired of feeling this way and I know the Lord can help me more than I can help myself. Enough of my ranting, I'll leave ya all to do whatever you need to. Take care.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-9081773754456256714?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/9081773754456256714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=9081773754456256714' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/9081773754456256714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/9081773754456256714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/03/just-some-thoughts.html' title='Just Some Thoughts'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-9025447852729061892</id><published>2009-02-27T17:29:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T17:49:52.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Could Have Killed Him</title><content type='html'>As you all know by now, Tucker was born Feb.11th. After he was born, his blood wasn't saturating properly, so they had to keep him in the NICU for a bit. I told Marsh and Emily that if they needed anything they could call me. On Valentine's Day, I got a phone call from Marsh at 7:30am. When I said hello, the first words out of his mouth is "We've got an emergency". I was instantly wide awake as my thoughts went right to Tucker. Then he told me that he'd found a kitten in the middle of his livingroom floor and it wasn't doing so good. He asked me to go over and help with the kittens, get them revived and what not while they went up to see Tucker.&lt;br /&gt;  When I got over there, Jezibelle had a total of 3 kittens, and they weren't doing too well. Dave and I began cleaning the kittens off and trying to get them stimulated to get their blood flowing better. It took some time, and hard work, but by the time Marsh and Emily got home, the kittens were nursing, Jezibelle had a total of 4 babies and all were doing well.&lt;br /&gt;  When things slowed down, I told Marsh that I could have killed him for making me panic a little about Tucker. He chuckled and said that he and Emily both thought about what he'd said after we got off the phone, and that he was sorry. I told him that I'll never let him live it down, and that it'd be fun to put the story into Tucker's Scrapbook. The funny thing is Emily was more worried about the kittens lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-9025447852729061892?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/9025447852729061892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=9025447852729061892' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/9025447852729061892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/9025447852729061892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/02/could-have-killed-him.html' title='Could Have Killed Him'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-3536706429316201637</id><published>2009-02-18T14:41:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T14:55:19.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SZyBAmA96hI/AAAAAAAAAMI/1TfZK6GkKvE/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304256308340189714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SZyBAmA96hI/AAAAAAAAAMI/1TfZK6GkKvE/s200/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;About 2 weeks ago, Dave let me pick up a workout DVD from Wal-Mart. We thought it'd be fun to start working out and losing weight before we get FAMILY pictures taken in April. This is the DVD I got, and it came with 2 bands, so I make Dave workout with me. Yesterday I gave it a try, they let you chose if you want to work the upper body, abs, lower body or the entire body. Because I want to lose a lot of weight fast, I chose to do the full body routine. The first time I did this, I had a 2yr old working out with me, and it was quite the workout. Later that evening, Dave said he'd give it a try and so we did the workout. By the end of the 10 min, he was winded, huffing and puffing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  This morning I woke up and can really feel my abs. They're pretty sore and it really hurts to laugh, but I think this is something that I can get into and do regularly. They also have one that is a dance routine, I've considered getting that one as well, and may just do so depending on the results I get from this DVD. I haven't really been excited to workout since Dan and Chrystal got me the Gazelle for Christmas (which I'm trying to get into the house to use again) and the Water Aerobics at Gold's Gym. Hopefully I can start feeling better about myself, I'll admit, it really bothers me to look in a mirror and see my spare tire, I yearn to be thin again. I'll keep y'all posted on what progress I make. Gotta run for now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-3536706429316201637?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/3536706429316201637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=3536706429316201637' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/3536706429316201637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/3536706429316201637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/02/new-me.html' title='A New Me'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SZyBAmA96hI/AAAAAAAAAMI/1TfZK6GkKvE/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-9170185088942996639</id><published>2009-02-08T21:33:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T21:59:45.758-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Such Luck</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SY-yse58F3I/AAAAAAAAAMA/mLDEWU8Ltp8/s1600-h/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300651763718428530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SY-yse58F3I/AAAAAAAAAMA/mLDEWU8Ltp8/s200/015.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; Since I have posted Tika on Craigslist, I've had a total of 2 people call about her. The first person called an hour after I posted the ad, she was looking for a dog for her husband, and seemed pretty excited to see Tika. They were supposed to drive from St. Anthony to see her, and possibly take her home. I never heard from them, and don't know if I will. Today, a woman called from Arco looking for a "buddy" for her 8yr old Black Lab. I told her all about Tika, and that we've got Dante, whom we'd preferr went with Tika because they're so close. The woman sounded interested, said that she has 3 acres for them to run and play on, and that she'd talk to her husband and call back when they were in the area. I told her that she's welcome to bring her dog along to see how they interacted together, she liked that idea but hadn't called back yet either.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  Although it's a little discouraging, and it still breaks my heart to do this, but I know it's for the best. I can't help but feel like I'm letting them down, betraying them if you will, I know I'm not, if anything, I'm improving the quality of their lives. I really hope 1 of 2 things happens, we get into a place of our own where we can have them, or somebody follows through on taking them. I'm tired of them living like prisoners.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-9170185088942996639?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/9170185088942996639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=9170185088942996639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/9170185088942996639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/9170185088942996639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/02/no-such-luck.html' title='No Such Luck'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SY-yse58F3I/AAAAAAAAAMA/mLDEWU8Ltp8/s72-c/015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-2623119008652591509</id><published>2009-02-05T21:02:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T21:08:09.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Day??</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Today we went to COSTCO with Mom, Dad, Marsh and Emily. While we were there, Mom picked up a box of Chicken Cordon Bleu for dinner. She followed the directions on cooking them, but as I was cutting mine up to share with Kaitlynn, I noticed mine was quite raw. That sparked everyone's curiosity as to weather theirs was done or not, finding that they weren't we finished cooking them. While wating for them to come back out of the oven, I pulled out my camera, and played around, entertaining Kaitlynn and teaching her how to use my camera. This is the first photo she did on her very own. The camera was zoomed in, and it's of her plate of Mango.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SYu3JGmnqsI/AAAAAAAAAL4/NE9aORk-wIE/s1600-h/More+Random+Photos+021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299530753550822082" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SYu3JGmnqsI/AAAAAAAAAL4/NE9aORk-wIE/s200/More+Random+Photos+021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Of course, that's not really a bad picture considering it's taken by a 2yr old, we'll see how she does in the future, right now, we'll keep her on the Wii, she's great at golf. After dinner, everyone parted ways, and while I'm waiting for Dave to finish with Dante and Tika, I thought I'd check a few things out online.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-2623119008652591509?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/2623119008652591509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=2623119008652591509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2623119008652591509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2623119008652591509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/02/family-day.html' title='Family Day??'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SYu3JGmnqsI/AAAAAAAAAL4/NE9aORk-wIE/s72-c/More+Random+Photos+021.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5578277948837887035</id><published>2009-02-02T18:40:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T22:09:48.072-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SYegxuvH1BI/AAAAAAAAALw/-KuDlBS7LNE/s1600-h/Misc+Things+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298380262844388370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SYegxuvH1BI/AAAAAAAAALw/-KuDlBS7LNE/s200/Misc+Things+001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sunday, while Marsh and Emily were here, Marsh decided to see if Mason would sit in the car seat. Obviously, he would. Nellie came over, they brought her without her "Satellite Dish". She's allowed to be around the other dogs, but still isn't supposed to lick her wound. Karma is missing her, and has now taken out her "playful agression" on Mason.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;   I am working with her on her behavior, and starting in March, she attends Obedience school. With any luck, it will change her attitude and her agressive behavior. One thing I have seen with Mason, is he likes to sit like that on things. I've caught him too many times sitting on steps like that, and I've always thought it was fun. I just thought I'd share this photo with everyone.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5578277948837887035?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5578277948837887035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5578277948837887035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5578277948837887035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5578277948837887035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-baby.html' title='My Baby'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SYegxuvH1BI/AAAAAAAAALw/-KuDlBS7LNE/s72-c/Misc+Things+001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-1134255573020484885</id><published>2009-01-31T17:05:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T17:18:49.295-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Preping for Fatherhood</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SYToPNhb-5I/AAAAAAAAALo/PC7t7OS0yOA/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297614409720134546" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SYToPNhb-5I/AAAAAAAAALo/PC7t7OS0yOA/s200/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Tonight Marsh has decided to cook for the family. Yes, if you don't hear from us after today, we've all been poisoned! J/K. Marsh wants to make the family his good and easy Enchiladas. I guess it was upon the request of Heather, who knows, but he's gonna be the cook for this evening. I think he's slowly beginning to accept Chas as Heather's other half. Marsh is pretty excited for Tucker to arrive, and worries when Emily is not around. He went 4 wheeling this morning, and I had the thought of calling him an hour after he left and tell him that Emily went into labor. I wisely opted not to, I didn't think he'd take it as much as a joke, and I kind of like him talking to me.&lt;br /&gt;  I'm happy that my family is in a good place right now. We're all getting along (as far as I know) and everyone SEEMS to be doing good. I've still been working on gettin rid of my Kidney stone, but other than that, we're all good. I want to thank Chrystal for fixing the header on my other blog, it looks FANTASTIC! One of these days I'll learn how to do it on my own. I went scrapbooking at the church today, quite the experience. Very few people showed up, but I think they're planning on doing this once a month. Right now I've been working on my Girls Camp album. It's a bit overwhelming, and I think that once I finish scrapbooking all my photos, I'll go digital. I'm working on finding my creativeness again, right now, I just don't feel creative.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-1134255573020484885?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/1134255573020484885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=1134255573020484885' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/1134255573020484885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/1134255573020484885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/01/preping-for-fatherhood.html' title='Preping for Fatherhood'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SYToPNhb-5I/AAAAAAAAALo/PC7t7OS0yOA/s72-c/004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-2823953870484707060</id><published>2009-01-29T22:54:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T22:59:00.519-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Unique Gift</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SYKWmJRqLNI/AAAAAAAAALg/ZYzOgwB53QU/s1600-h/Birth+Certificate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296961693810306258" style="WIDTH: 201px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 175px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SYKWmJRqLNI/AAAAAAAAALg/ZYzOgwB53QU/s200/Birth+Certificate.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I was looking around on COSTCO's website, and ran across this neat little item. It's a throw blanket, custom made for you when you order it. I thought when Tucker was born, I'd purchase this as a gift for him to have. It's also been a thought to look into getting one for my other nieces and nephews.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-2823953870484707060?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/2823953870484707060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=2823953870484707060' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2823953870484707060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2823953870484707060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/01/unique-gift.html' title='A Unique Gift'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SYKWmJRqLNI/AAAAAAAAALg/ZYzOgwB53QU/s72-c/Birth+Certificate.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5702037593848953994</id><published>2009-01-26T23:18:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T23:24:01.225-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Larimer's Big Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SX6n-3nKrEI/AAAAAAAAALI/PIoQ_QStAqc/s1600-h/Larimer%27s+Wedding+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295854910356237378" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SX6n-3nKrEI/AAAAAAAAALI/PIoQ_QStAqc/s200/Larimer%27s+Wedding+008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today Heather and Chas said "I DO" to each other. They're officially Husband and Wife, and I'm really hoping they prove everyone who doubt them wrong. He really does make her happy, and you can most definately tell he loves her a lot. We met his family for the first time, and I can honestly say, Chas is just like his father, but quieter. Here's a few photos of the wedding, we've got video too, but I have been having a problem downloading it, so I'll post it as soon as I get it figured out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SX6oHZpVCUI/AAAAAAAAALQ/nn3OynTaLZk/s1600-h/Larimer%27s+Wedding+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295855056931064130" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SX6oHZpVCUI/AAAAAAAAALQ/nn3OynTaLZk/s200/Larimer%27s+Wedding+005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SX6oTu1bO7I/AAAAAAAAALY/PPNedeOmL8Y/s1600-h/Larimer%27s+Wedding+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295855268777376690" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SX6oTu1bO7I/AAAAAAAAALY/PPNedeOmL8Y/s200/Larimer%27s+Wedding+002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5702037593848953994?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5702037593848953994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5702037593848953994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5702037593848953994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5702037593848953994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/01/larimers-big-day.html' title='The Larimer&apos;s Big Day'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SX6n-3nKrEI/AAAAAAAAALI/PIoQ_QStAqc/s72-c/Larimer%27s+Wedding+008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5683710321087067337</id><published>2009-01-25T20:08:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T20:20:28.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Sunday Excitement</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SX0rmo9KoPI/AAAAAAAAALA/zLVQYoa4uYI/s1600-h/002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295436679686562034" style="WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SX0rmo9KoPI/AAAAAAAAALA/zLVQYoa4uYI/s200/002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I was waiting for dinner, I got a phone call from Janelle. She'd been in a car accident and wanted to know if I'd come get Kaitlynn. This accident wasn't her fault, the other person involved ran the stop sign and broadsided her. Everybody is fine, but the car is a mess as you can see.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5683710321087067337?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5683710321087067337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5683710321087067337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5683710321087067337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5683710321087067337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-sunday-excitement.html' title='My Sunday Excitement'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SX0rmo9KoPI/AAAAAAAAALA/zLVQYoa4uYI/s72-c/002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-405510939176697714</id><published>2009-01-24T18:46:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T18:52:45.469-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tucker's Shower</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXvFrtn1RVI/AAAAAAAAAK4/5n2WJIXWMlQ/s1600-h/Baby+Shower+015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295043141675861330" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXvFrtn1RVI/AAAAAAAAAK4/5n2WJIXWMlQ/s200/Baby+Shower+015.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXvFrFSMhnI/AAAAAAAAAKw/7od3TSVqpy8/s1600-h/Baby+Shower+011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295043130847692402" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXvFrFSMhnI/AAAAAAAAAKw/7od3TSVqpy8/s200/Baby+Shower+011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXvFrN0cO3I/AAAAAAAAAKg/L_1p8bmwbKs/s1600-h/Baby+Shower+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295043133138811762" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXvFrN0cO3I/AAAAAAAAAKg/L_1p8bmwbKs/s200/Baby+Shower+003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXvFrNNJ1_I/AAAAAAAAAKo/H_tTCJPKmzs/s1600-h/Baby+Shower+013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295043132974028786" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXvFrNNJ1_I/AAAAAAAAAKo/H_tTCJPKmzs/s200/Baby+Shower+013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today was Emily's baby shower for Tucker. She made out like a bandit on the gifts, but when they had games and what not, I wasn't too impressed. I dunno, I just kind of thought it was not completely put together like it should have been. Anyway, the following are a few pictures taken at the shower. Like I said, Emily made off like a bandit on the gift department, and the Jersey that Dan and Chrystal gave her rocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-405510939176697714?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/405510939176697714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=405510939176697714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/405510939176697714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/405510939176697714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/01/tuckers-shower.html' title='Tucker&apos;s Shower'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXvFrtn1RVI/AAAAAAAAAK4/5n2WJIXWMlQ/s72-c/Baby+Shower+015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-4575835863706103444</id><published>2009-01-20T19:01:00.009-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T19:15:39.474-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Excitement at the Hollingsworth House</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXaE97G5AsI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/VRvq_J8W9BY/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293564611394077378" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXaE97G5AsI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/VRvq_J8W9BY/s200/005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXaE21av5MI/AAAAAAAAAKI/vnTXWDnCia4/s1600-h/DSCF1210.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293564489607668930" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXaE21av5MI/AAAAAAAAAKI/vnTXWDnCia4/s200/DSCF1210.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today as Mom and Dad were cleaning up the "Land Mines" in the back yard, Nellie and Karma found piece of a basketball and started playing. Pretty soon, the playing turned into a fight, Karma winning over Nellie. It took a while, and Dad being bit on his fingers for them to be broken up, but they were broken apart, with Nellie needing a trip to the vet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Karma broke through the skin, but not enough for Nellie to need stitches. Instead, Nellie will be living with Marsh and Emily for a few days, exiled from the other dogs so she can heal. She also has to have her wound drained twice a day and yes, I've been nominated to do it. Other than that, things have been pretty mellow here. Still haven't passed my stone yet, but I go to the doc about that on Thursday. I'll keep everyone posted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-4575835863706103444?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/4575835863706103444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=4575835863706103444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4575835863706103444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4575835863706103444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/01/excitement-at-hollingsworth-house.html' title='Excitement at the Hollingsworth House'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXaE97G5AsI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/VRvq_J8W9BY/s72-c/005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-4050039745150371350</id><published>2009-01-18T21:32:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T21:50:12.525-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The reward of a thing well done is to have done it.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXQD4vvcBwI/AAAAAAAAAJI/I341iLiwdIg/s1600-h/033.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292859735490168578" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXQD4vvcBwI/AAAAAAAAAJI/I341iLiwdIg/s320/033.jpeg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; As everyone knows, I've been watching Kaitlynn since she was 4-5 months old, and have formed a bond with her, and a friendship with at least her mother. From the time I began watching her, I've had issues with her father, sometimes both parents and have always been asked why I put up with it. For those of you who don't really understand why I continue to watch her, let me shine a little light on that subject for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  Outside of her parents, I'm pretty much all Kaitlynn knows. I am her best friend, and she enjoys my company. Yes, I'm attatched to her, spend a few hours with her and you'll see why. I also know that at times I can be too attached, and sometimes forget that I'm not her mother, and I'm working on that. She calls me "Mom" and when she does, I correct her and tell her that Mom is at work. I'm helping her see that I am her friend Jess. When her parents are around, I step back and let them do things with her, if she wants me to do something for her and her mom and dad are there, I tell her to have mommy or daddy do it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; I continue to watch Kaitlynn because it gives me the satisfaction of doing something good for somebody. I am helping her mom potty train her, and we do good for the most part, and she helps me when I'm down by doing something stupid to make me laugh. Is it sad that a 2yr old understands me more than most people, or that I understand the 2yr old more than everyone else? Maybe it is, but I don't really care, Kaitlynn is a blessing in my life as well as in her parents lives. I look at her everyday and think of how we're suppose to be innocent like children. I can be a positive influence on Kaitlynn's life, and the lives of other children I come across, and if I can make a difference, then I'll have felt like I've accomplished something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-4050039745150371350?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/4050039745150371350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=4050039745150371350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4050039745150371350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/4050039745150371350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/01/reward-of-thing-well-done-is-to-have.html' title='The reward of a thing well done is to have done it.'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SXQD4vvcBwI/AAAAAAAAAJI/I341iLiwdIg/s72-c/033.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5499202632618811873</id><published>2009-01-12T20:31:00.009-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T21:10:08.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aftermath Of My Unforgetable Birthday ER Trip</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SWwPNv_gwbI/AAAAAAAAAIg/amSexOVX7cw/s1600-h/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290620391149060530" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SWwPNv_gwbI/AAAAAAAAAIg/amSexOVX7cw/s200/013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, so the above photo is the result of 2 separate people trying to start an IV on a dehidrated Jessica in excrutiating pain. There are actually 2 puncture holes on that arm, they also tried to find a vein in my right hand and wrist. The vein in my right wrist blew, and I have a nice bruise that covers the top of my right hand. It was not the time of my life, that's for sure. Reading online about Kidney Stones, it can take up to 3 weeks to pass one, and I have been told it's worse than giving birth. I tell my family that I'm not passing a stone, I'm having a kid. Add to my experience, they want me to pee in a cup each time I use the toilet. This ususally isn't a problem for me except this is what the cup looks like: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SWwQ1d_hezI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Z6NLYCUUiac/s1600-h/026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290622173023664946" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SWwQ1d_hezI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Z6NLYCUUiac/s200/026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The diameter of this cup isn't very big, so I have devised a "system" I guess you can say. This is what I do. I use an OLD 2c. liquid measuring cup to pee in, then pour it into the "cup" furnished by the hospital. That system seems to work, until I got a visit from "Mother Nature". They want me to save anything that remains in the cup, but with "Mother Nature" I don't think the Urologist would like to see that stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SWwSdqAYjLI/AAAAAAAAAIw/JD5gQ-eAb4A/s1600-h/027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290623962954894514" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SWwSdqAYjLI/AAAAAAAAAIw/JD5gQ-eAb4A/s200/027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I have taken myself completely off soda, and am drinking 10 8oz bottles of water a day. I also have a 64oz mug that I have filled with Crystal Lite, and drink that when I'm tired of water. Life for me kind of sucks right now, but as long as I'm taking my pain pills, I'm surviving. That's pretty much all I spend my days doing, drinking lots of water, peeing and watching kids. I try to time my outings around the Potty Breaks for me because I really don't want to lug around my pee cups, just isn't my thing. Anyway, I'm taking off. I would like to thank Chrystal for helping me with my blog, you've been a lot of help and hopefully I can catch on a little quicker, keep an eye out, it might just improve. Any feedback you guys have on the changes I have or do make, would be greatly welcomed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5499202632618811873?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5499202632618811873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5499202632618811873' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5499202632618811873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5499202632618811873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/01/aftermath-of-my-unforgetable-birthday.html' title='Aftermath Of My Unforgetable Birthday ER Trip'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SWwPNv_gwbI/AAAAAAAAAIg/amSexOVX7cw/s72-c/013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-2153621049985618096</id><published>2009-01-05T16:52:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T17:11:47.235-07:00</updated><title type='text'>31 yrs and counting.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So today is my birthday. I don't get why people are so reluctant to grow older, to me, it's just another year. I've been razzed that I'm getting older by a few of my friends, and all I tell them is that I'm like a fine wine, I get better with age. Somebody once said, wisdom comes with age, and I can honestly see why that is. Anyway, this year I broke "Tradition", normally I gather all my friends and we make a trip to the Texas Road House. This year I have done a lot of thinking about this, and have decided that I feel that's the only time my friends want to do something with me so I'm canceling it for good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It bums me out a little, but I would rather make special memories for my Birthday with my family and my husband. I had to work this year for my Birthday, if you really want to call it that. I got Kaitlynn at 6am, took a "nap" while she watched TV, then Marsh and Emily came and got us out of bed. I showered, gave Kaitlynn her bath, and then she peed her pants so I had to wash them. From that time out, my day has been one roller coaster after another. I placed a bid on Ebay for a baby doll like the one I had as a kid. As to be expected, somebody jumped in just before the auction ended, and then out bid me. Luckily I found another doll and bid on her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;While playing around on Ebay, I found a purse I'd LOVE to have. Sure, people say it's flipping ugly, creepy, whatever, but if you know me, you know I can't resist. (Come on, I had ORANGE tennis shoes not too long ago.) I finally convinced Dave to let me purchase this purse, and this is what it looks like.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287965671160517474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 304px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 257px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SWKgwtX7k2I/AAAAAAAAABw/VMx3vW46B3A/s320/I+WANT.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Aside from the striped T-neck, it looks like Merlyn when I shave him short. I am very thankful that my siblings have wished me a happy birthday, and that those who remembered have done so as well. Yeah, I've had my ups and downs today, but I'm trying to make the best of it, who knows, maybe I'm just tired. I was happy to see Jared/Jordyn Lake though, we've been through a LOT over the years, and he/she is going through a tough time with thier ex-wife. It's good to be there for a friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-2153621049985618096?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/2153621049985618096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=2153621049985618096' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2153621049985618096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2153621049985618096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/01/31-yrs-and-counting.html' title='31 yrs and counting.'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SWKgwtX7k2I/AAAAAAAAABw/VMx3vW46B3A/s72-c/I+WANT.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-5660624123695429995</id><published>2009-01-01T13:44:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T14:05:52.927-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 2009</title><content type='html'>Well, we've just closed out another year. 2008 was quite an adventure for us here in Idaho. We'd found out that we were scammed out of the deed to our house, Grandma Wanda passed away, Dan and Chrystal moved to Texas, Marsh is going to be a dad, and Heather got a divorce. We ended up losing our house and moving in with Mom and Dad, it's okay but I don't want to be here forever. It has been a big help living with them as we're able to catch up on most of our bills, and can help them out occasionally.&lt;br /&gt;  Throughout the year, Dave has made a lot of progress in the Convergys Food Chain. He went from agent to coach, from coach to team leader, from team leader now to Remote Agent Supervisor which means he will be working from home within the month. We're all excited about it because he saves on gas, and doesn't always have to rush home to eat lunch, he can have it brought to him. I have been babysitting Kaitlynn, Layla and Colby. I'm not exactly sure, but I may be taking in a 5yr and 3yr sometime soon.&lt;br /&gt;  This Christmas we had LOTS of snow for the first time in years. I am sure people are going to think I'm crazy and need medication, maybe I do, but I don't care. I was thinking about things one day, and in my eyes, I think all the snow was a gift from Grandma Wanda. I felt her presence here, and I now she knew we loved the snow. Like I said, maybe I'm just crazy.&lt;br /&gt;  We've been religiously working on our budget, there have been a few setbacks, but we're doing good I believe, and are going to save for a trip to visit Dan and Chrystal in Houston around our anniversary if we can. I'm excited for things this year. I turn 31 on Monday, and then there are  Dad's, Heather's and Chrystals birthdays. Mason goes in for surgery sometime this month. He has a lump on his chest the vet would like to remove incase it's a cancerous tumor. They're not going to knock him out completely, just get him "drunk" and then cut him open. I am going to ask if I can watch.&lt;br /&gt;  In February, I should be a new aunt. Tucker James Hollingsworth should be born, and a lot of us are hoping he'll be born on his due date (Feb.12th) as it's Grandpa Fredrickson's birthday. As you know, I want kids but am struggeling with conceiving, so part of me is jealous of Marsh and Emily, but I'm really happy for them, besides, I was the first to know she was prego. We've also got a few weddings coming up. Darcy is getting married in June, and Heather plans on getting married in July. Who knows, maybe this year Mom and Dad will be blessed with a second grandkid.&lt;br /&gt;  Well, that's pretty much all I want to say, hope you all have a happy new year and that your year is full of wealth and prosperity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-5660624123695429995?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/5660624123695429995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=5660624123695429995' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5660624123695429995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/5660624123695429995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-2009.html' title='Happy 2009'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-759132754160415125</id><published>2008-12-23T08:49:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T13:43:14.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WOWZERS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SVKeu_7fFcI/AAAAAAAAABo/yOPrucT0QmM/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283459843131119042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SVKeu_7fFcI/AAAAAAAAABo/yOPrucT0QmM/s320/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, since my last post a few things have happened. As you know, I've been having issues off and on with watching Kaitlynn because of her father mainly. We got into a doozy of an arguement where hidden feelings came out and though it was really ugly, I believe we made a breakthrough. Right now, things are in the trial stage, so we'll see how it works.&lt;br /&gt;Saturday morning, I was taking Moto (Chas's Min-pinx) out to use the potty, and being an idiot, I wore bath slippers to take him out. The front porch was covered with snow, and I immediately slipped and severely sprained my left foot. I won't lie, it has been hell walking up and down the stairs with it, but the only thing the doctor instructed me to do was to elevate and ice it, walk on it for as long as I can tolerate it too. It left me with a nice dark bruise on the instep of my foot and yes, the foot is swollen.&lt;br /&gt;Then we all woke up Monday morning and found that it had snowed pretty good. I think it dropped at least 10 inches, and it's been snowing off and on since. Dave's not too thrilled about it, but the rest of us are extremely happy to see we'll have a White Christmas this year. (It's about time too!) Dave moves home to work sometime in January, and he's really looking forward to it. Right now he's training other RAs (Remote Agent) and is finding interesting things out. The RA he's training now was a Supervisor for four years, and has worked for Convergys for seven.&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, I've got 2 more kids that will be coming to me probably in Jan. The mother has my price list/rules, and is okay with it. She says she has 2 girls, a 5yr old and a 3yr old, and it'd be off and on during the week, sometimes on weekends. I'm excited because Kaitlynn will have some other children to interact with, which will be really good for her. I've gotta run now. I'll keep everyone posted as things unfold.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-759132754160415125?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/759132754160415125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=759132754160415125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/759132754160415125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/759132754160415125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2008/12/wowzers.html' title='WOWZERS'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/SVKeu_7fFcI/AAAAAAAAABo/yOPrucT0QmM/s72-c/004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-404175015780206561</id><published>2008-12-19T14:04:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T14:18:48.459-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day At The Vet</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; Ok, so I found a lump on Mason's chest last year. At the time, it was not much larger than a dime, then a few weeks ago, I noticed it had grown, and was pretty solid. I contacted the vet who wanted to see him, and we took him today. The doctor checked out the lump and said that he wants to remove it as soon as possible, that he doesn't want to take his chances if it's cancerous. Dave and I both have discussed this, and agree the lump needs to be removed, but can't afford it at this time. What the plan is now is to take money in each paycheck and start a credit with them, so when the time comes, we'll be able to pay for the procedure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;  The best part of this is it's not going to be a serious surgery where he needs to be totally knocked out. Because of Mason's personality and aloofedness, they can remove it under local anesthetics. Luckily, all they really have to do is get him really drunk. Other than that, because he's a senior, they recommend a yearly bloodwork exam, and it's not cheap. I told them that we'd have to work on that one, but we'll see what we can do. Otherwise, Mason has an EXCELLENT bill of health, and I was told I should be proud of how good he looks. (As we all know that I am.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;  We've almost completely moved everything downstairs now. I'm working on taking the rest of our stuff out of the livingroom so Mom can feel like she's got her house back. It's not going to be an easy process because I'll be doing it by myself and my body is still screaming from moving everything down since Sunday. I will manage though, and since I don't babysit tomorrow, maybe I'll just take two Advil PMs to help ease the pain. That's all I've got for ya right now. Hope this finds everyone happy and well. If this is my last post before Christmas, I hope you all have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-404175015780206561?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/404175015780206561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=404175015780206561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/404175015780206561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/404175015780206561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2008/12/day-at-vet.html' title='A Day At The Vet'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-2956175722859792004</id><published>2008-12-13T22:10:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T22:35:25.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Step Into The Dark Side</title><content type='html'>So Heather and her boyfriend came down from Idaho Falls last night. She said the sole purpose of the trip is to swap rooms with Dave and I and that she wanted it done today. Dave went to work, and I waited for her to get up so we could do the swap. She got up and ate breakfast with me and mom and dad, then her and her boyfriend took off. I waited and waited and waited, not only has she not followed through on that, she also bailed on me and our "plans" to spend time with Olivia.&lt;br /&gt;  Now it's 10pm, and I'm not going to stay up all night. She  is not home right now (surprise, surprise) and Mom has decided that we're not swapping rooms until the morning. What sets me off on all this is majority of the issues are because of Heather, and I'm always being told that she gets upset when I break our plans, but when she does it, it seems like she's not in the wrong, and that it's ok. I know it's not right but it seems like Heather can do no wrong.  It always seems like if something goes wrong in the house, it's my fault weather I did anything or not. Sometimes I think I'm not good enough for my father, that I'm nothing but a screw up, and it really upsets me.&lt;br /&gt;  I don't mean to sound so negative, I just needed to vent, let out my feelings on things without being misinterpreted, judged, or yelled at. I know my parents love me, but sometimes I feel like they don't appreciate me. I respect them more than Heather does, and I feel like I get dumped on more than she does. It's frustrating and very much irritating. I guess this is one of the reasons that I created this blog, to express feelings that I could not otherwise do to others. I'll step off my soapbox now, I do feel a little better now though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-2956175722859792004?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/2956175722859792004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=2956175722859792004' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2956175722859792004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2956175722859792004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2008/12/step-into-dark-side.html' title='A Step Into The Dark Side'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-2230486618951091515</id><published>2008-12-10T04:43:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T05:02:44.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinkin IS Dangerous</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ok, so I'm basically pulling an all nighter tonight. It's not by choice as I have to babysit tomorrow, and it's going to be an extremely long and busy day, but because my husband snores. Usually I can nudge him and he'll quiet down, but sometimes I can try anything and it just won't work- tonight is one of those times. Normally I use ear plugs to block him out, nope, he was louder than usual, and I could still hear him, so here I am, online instead of in bed. That's ok though, because when 7:15 rolls around, I'm kicking him out of bed to wait for the child I watch, and I'm going to try to get in an hour of sleep, mean, maybe but he's been warned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;  Anyway, since I couldn't sleep, I've been doing a little thinking.(YES, it hurt!) For as long as I can remember, I've been told that I wear my heart on my sleeve, that I'm too open about my feelings and that I need to change that. I can honestly say that I've tried, but since I started on anti-depressants for crying for 3hrs for no reason, I began to realize that by supressing my feelings, it was making things bad for me. That being said, I'm no longer going to supress my feelings. Who cares if I wear my heart on my sleeve, it's what makes me who I am, and I just can't change because it's a bother for people. Am I a compassionate person, yes, very, and I see myself as a person with an extremely big and giving heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;  I have learned that I trust too easily, and that sometimes, people who say they're your friends, really just want to use you for something to their advantage. I've got some SERIOUSLY dark skeletons in my closet that nobody really truely knows except for my husband, and lately some of those skeletons have surfaced and creeped into my dreams, reminding me that you've gotta be careful who you trust. Because of how disturbing the dream was, I began a dream journal. Dave suggested I talk to somebody about these dreams, and I told him I will if they get worse. He said I should talk to my parents about them, but I said no, they've got my little sis to worry about right now, I don't want to worry them further.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;  Anyway, I've rambled enough, one of the hazards of no sleep. Yes, I wear my heart on my sleeve, but the skeletons I will fight to keep hidden! Sometimes, the past really truely sucks!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-2230486618951091515?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/2230486618951091515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=2230486618951091515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2230486618951091515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/2230486618951091515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2008/12/thinkin-is-dangerous.html' title='Thinkin IS Dangerous'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-6316491113248519947</id><published>2008-12-08T13:23:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:44:40.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Another Day In My Life........</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/ST2C7765JDI/AAAAAAAAABg/c3cMj5ghLDs/s1600-h/Thanksgiving+2008+066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277518304556688434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/ST2C7765JDI/AAAAAAAAABg/c3cMj5ghLDs/s320/Thanksgiving+2008+066.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ok, so this isn't really my most favorite picture of Dave and I, but it was taken after a LONG day in Jerome. We'd just barely gotten home, about Midnight, and we took this because my mother-in-law wanted pictures. We both were really exhausted and ready to climb into bed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyhow, we're working on things financially and with our relationship. We both found out that niether one of us thinks we're attractive, it's because of our weight, but we are going to work on it because we both love eachother, and want things to work. I told Dave that I thought the world to him and the only thing that makes me lose interest in him are his really stinky feet. He didn't like that too much, and I told him I was just kidding. We're trying to help Mom and Dad out the best we can, and have set up a receiver in their room, so now they watch Satellite on our account, it saves them in the long run and our bill will only be about $5 a month.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I will be starting up my Gold Canyon membership in January again. It'll be a time when I can afford it better, and maybe then I can set up the website as well. This year I'm going to try to have at least 2 partys a month. Dave starts working from home in Jan. He's really excited, not that I blame him, and really wants to prove himself to his father. Well, I should take off before I step on my soap box, hope you all have a good week.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-6316491113248519947?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/6316491113248519947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=6316491113248519947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6316491113248519947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/6316491113248519947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2008/12/ok-so-this-isnt-really-my-most-favorite.html' title='Just Another Day In My Life........'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YKRdM4F8lmg/ST2C7765JDI/AAAAAAAAABg/c3cMj5ghLDs/s72-c/Thanksgiving+2008+066.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8498933276954580551.post-3827808897413742269</id><published>2008-12-02T23:54:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T00:04:01.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Goes By.........</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;It's hard to believe it's already December. Before too long my little nephew will be here, I'll be another year older (yay me!) and we'll have more experiences to look forward to in life. It has been a rollercoaster of a year for the Lages, looking back, it seemed like there were more DOWNS than UPS, but hidden amongst those downs I know are many blessings that we may and may not see.&lt;br /&gt;Though we lost Grandma this year, I got the chance to say goodbye to her, tell her "I love you" one last time, and hear her, for the last time, tell me how proud of me she is. That's something that always comes to me when I'm down. We are blessed to have family who loves us, and helps us when they can. Dave should be working from home soon, he'll be making just shy of $15 an hour and I look forward to seeing him prove those who don't think he can do it, wrong.&lt;br /&gt;I've got a lot in store for this up-comming year, hopefully things work out the way I want them to, I know it doesn't always work like that but a girl can dream right? Well, it's way past my bedtime, and the cold meds kicked in so I'm feelin a little drunk. Hope all is well with you, and I'll post something again soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8498933276954580551-3827808897413742269?l=jestermason.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/feeds/3827808897413742269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8498933276954580551&amp;postID=3827808897413742269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/3827808897413742269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8498933276954580551/posts/default/3827808897413742269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jestermason.blogspot.com/2008/12/time-goes-by.html' title='Time Goes By.........'/><author><name>Jester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04129252542179160010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
