tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7915311566201044432024-02-02T01:20:40.956-08:00Day in the life ofMiss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-19047452518793026252010-11-30T13:11:00.000-08:002010-11-30T13:44:20.405-08:00Home sweet HomeToday I am waiting around for 'the bug guy'... again. Let me rewind...<br /><br />Everything in the house is going great, we have all the boxes unpacked, we are making what little additions or changes that need to be fixed. I believe I was opening the dishwasher when there.. crawling on the inside. .<br /><br />Is a <span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>roach</strong></span>. Gross.<br /><br />I might see one here, and then another on the next day.. so nothing horribly bad. But to think of them crawling around at night, touching the counter tops.. .I should stop before I give everyone nightmares.<br /><br />Of course I am freaking out, Mr. being cool as he always is, tries to address the situation logically. We start out by buying the traps and gel, the package says it will take care of the problem within 24 hours. Nope. So instead of me being in hysterics all the time, we opt for professional pest control. So I can say goodbye to eating out at all for a year, but can hopefully cook peacefully in my kitchen.<br /><br /><br />They sprayed, and we saw things die, we never knew were crawling around. Then two nights ago I saw a baby roach crawling around. No way, so with the 'no bugs guarantee' they are coming back to spray again.<br /><br /><br />I guess it is just one more thing to worry about with new home ownership. Thankfully I turned my utter fear and disgust into pure happiness in revenge everytime I sweep up dead bugs from around the house and almost get giddy about seeing them.<br /><br /><br />I got off my lazy bum and actually took some pictures of the place.<br /><br /><div align="center"><br />The living room.<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFCx0kDiHunGkDbRqwdbd3ZuK34JlSNJTGxuhpdISs-RcRjS-uVje0XGxsHxjuE-6_YzKxbFyZL8PoBBtd_b3oTW6E5uBcXoghhX1y74SgJI4fyp99PSH8eJDl3t6-MX2mmp6ZTzYCfi06/s1600/HO1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545459643944228626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFCx0kDiHunGkDbRqwdbd3ZuK34JlSNJTGxuhpdISs-RcRjS-uVje0XGxsHxjuE-6_YzKxbFyZL8PoBBtd_b3oTW6E5uBcXoghhX1y74SgJI4fyp99PSH8eJDl3t6-MX2mmp6ZTzYCfi06/s320/HO1.jpg" /> <p align="center"></a>The dining room<br /></p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN4O_kUVP_C1h-fgo6zg031bBmI-97x-Eacqo_N6KqOMciv4nn0pmZf0cOfBpnpK8pHbsTYre2Ra-xd1eDfyBk9lG7WksoNo_ZUIntVb1KVTNLpEqKRjghM62uu4Q3wgb0Fteu3I2lCnxe/s1600/HO2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545459625096130146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN4O_kUVP_C1h-fgo6zg031bBmI-97x-Eacqo_N6KqOMciv4nn0pmZf0cOfBpnpK8pHbsTYre2Ra-xd1eDfyBk9lG7WksoNo_ZUIntVb1KVTNLpEqKRjghM62uu4Q3wgb0Fteu3I2lCnxe/s320/HO2.jpg" /></a><br />Our small little kitchen, thats it.. all thats right there..<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvqH0ztnCbX45L18BOgxNyAuMJqTh96tMG_2zzb241mkcwWMhyxtCEbjj1e70LXOa0r_0YOAgmT7bE84_fSaIPnco0HYKXqOAiO1B6t-2V1Wi197dDt3yeoXzjo9Sx_7mSmFjVOhe-MdY/s1600/HO3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545459609704362914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvqH0ztnCbX45L18BOgxNyAuMJqTh96tMG_2zzb241mkcwWMhyxtCEbjj1e70LXOa0r_0YOAgmT7bE84_fSaIPnco0HYKXqOAiO1B6t-2V1Wi197dDt3yeoXzjo9Sx_7mSmFjVOhe-MdY/s320/HO3.jpg" /></a><br /><br />our large back yard and covered patio. Mr. actually built that table the other day!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9IF7og58EAoI4dXT7C8DdkaYc7xbdTcSX2WNVBRRBhk_IiiFXgStINrTDhCS7KKCmxxOVasg7_La3jGPbh68WxUsJbYRuDIcWRE0mCKyDx9isHlI6FMR1oo0RSgdkI_ZcIe-dQRt07oRU/s1600/HO4.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545459161074873378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9IF7og58EAoI4dXT7C8DdkaYc7xbdTcSX2WNVBRRBhk_IiiFXgStINrTDhCS7KKCmxxOVasg7_La3jGPbh68WxUsJbYRuDIcWRE0mCKyDx9isHlI6FMR1oo0RSgdkI_ZcIe-dQRt07oRU/s320/HO4.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br />My creative work space.. a disaster as always, its how I work<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJhPJ32fnOuadBNHVEmoWwg8CAxmrySfst_9A-MyRDjAAYgcteX3Vd7Thz3N5SnNY02-4Rp4XwTGxx1oXlmI-IbEMefkK2AMtkOyNx-6w3v9VmOuwWLXGG2VGQQAVUbCHh8X_O1iaWQdUr/s1600/HO5.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545459153505208546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJhPJ32fnOuadBNHVEmoWwg8CAxmrySfst_9A-MyRDjAAYgcteX3Vd7Thz3N5SnNY02-4Rp4XwTGxx1oXlmI-IbEMefkK2AMtkOyNx-6w3v9VmOuwWLXGG2VGQQAVUbCHh8X_O1iaWQdUr/s320/HO5.jpg" /></a> </div><div>There is one other bedroom being used as a 'Man Cave' plus the master bedroom with on suite bath, plus a guest bathroom. It fits us perfectly for now, I promised not to paint for a while...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div><br /></div>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-36192354534871582722010-11-28T15:50:00.000-08:002010-11-28T16:28:15.482-08:00Miss Becca Turns 87<a href="http://img130.imageshack.us/img130/7209/cupcakeb.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 204px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 172px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://img130.imageshack.us/img130/7209/cupcakeb.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div>It feels strange, this familiar screen, talking to myself. It has been way too long, and it feels foreign again. Once you skip a post, you tell yourself you'll get back to it. Slowly it just becomes habit not to. It feels like a cop out to say life got busy, isn't everyone around this time of year? </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The last time I posted, and took my long hiatus, we (Mr. and I) were on a mission to find a place to live. We found a house, went through escrow and now we are comfortably settled into our new place. A cozy 1200 sq ft place, finally to call our own. It has its charms, its spacious covered patio and yard, and has its downs. Like any homeowner knows, your list of to-dos never end. From replacing the pumps in the toilet to pest maintenance. We are tackling the challenges together, cutting back on random unnecessary things, knowing our money is in a better investment now. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Just a week or so after we finished moving in, I had my 22nd birthday. Nothing to really throw a grandeur party over. The morning of, at school, I got to wear a pink tiara and had all the kids sing happy birthday to me. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>We let the kids guess how old they thought I was turning. The first guess was 10, so I told them a little higher. So all together the kids knew... <span style="font-size:180%;">87,</span> they shouted and all agreed, that was the right age. Even when their parents picked them up, the kids were so excited to tell their parents that today was my 87th birthday, which then brought on many 'it doesn't show' and 'you hide it well' jokes. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Mr. asked me if I feel old now. At first I said that I did not feel any older, for a couple years now I have felt the same after every birthday. The more I think about it, the more I really do. I am finally breaking free of that 'young' age group, we have a house. And as Mr. likes to point out, we now have a Costco card, thus we are officially middle class. Not quite yet though, when we finally have a mini van sitting in the drive way, that's when we know we made it. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-82975589091107657092010-10-12T19:35:00.000-07:002010-10-12T19:45:49.389-07:00Driving around aimlessly<div>After work today, I stopped by Mom's place. Hung out for a little bit, and then was on my way. Way to where, I do not know. </div><br /><div></div><div>I thought I knew, but I was wrong. I got in the car and was driving. I don't think I've ever driven, without purpose. I must of been in some kind of clouded funk. I thought maybe I will go here... As I pass it I think maybe not. I don't really want to get out of the car and park. </div><br /><div></div><div>Then I think maybe I will go to target, pass by and think 'I don't really want to spend money right now' so I keep driving. Soon I am just driving, really going 3-4 miles out of my way just because I am too stubborn to go home. </div><br /><div></div><div>Mr. is not due home for another 4 hours. I do not want to start packing, I am not motivated to do housework. So instead I am driving around, and when I see the indicator get closer to E, I am so unmotivated to get out of the car, I am forced to just drive home without getting gas.</div><br /><div></div><div>It was the strangest feeling. I really wanted to go do something, yet did not want to spend a dime. Did not want to drive around but did not want to be home. Maybe it's the state of home limbo I am in. Calling this place I am in now home, and soon calling another. </div><br /><div></div><div>All that aside I did come home and finally had to do something with all my nervous energy. So I plopped down at the computer and did something I have not done in way too long. </div><br /><div></div><div>Art. And thus a finished painting. I really want the weather to cool back down so me and mom can go on walks, else I see many more pointless drives in my near future. </div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSlgZQ91_7nzJYLtqnoUjCYtRa6w1Pi-dTCvyabqKirksvJKnNcS2qCaV55_zo2_kp2aCRKCPmagKqvt1qDhCNktG4WLMNF7PatayOheyALot_uGD2Go0uWqfaKWAiKIgCWSbgPCmnzvE_/s1600/Luvbugsmall.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 274px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 343px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527356154895484386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSlgZQ91_7nzJYLtqnoUjCYtRa6w1Pi-dTCvyabqKirksvJKnNcS2qCaV55_zo2_kp2aCRKCPmagKqvt1qDhCNktG4WLMNF7PatayOheyALot_uGD2Go0uWqfaKWAiKIgCWSbgPCmnzvE_/s320/Luvbugsmall.jpg" /></a>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-58071948341867348842010-10-08T12:38:00.000-07:002010-10-08T12:57:44.529-07:00Chores In High HeelsThis weekend I have a cocktail party and wedding to go to. Although I don't really ever dress up, I have a few dresses in my closet. The only problem, I don't really have any good heels!<br /><br />So yesterday I spent 3 hours at the mall on my search for the holy grail, the perfect heel. Perfect for me at least. Because I do not wear heels often.. maybe never ,they need to be comfortable. When I do wear heels I love pointy toe, rounded toe makes my feet look even more small and squatty. Then I would love it to have a strap, so when I am walking around my feet don't slip and POP right out, which happens a lot.<br /><br />My search did not go well, I dislike the mall already and now I just spent 3 hours too long there. I stop by Mom's and I ask her, " Have you ever seen.. a pointy toe heel with a strap?"<br /><br />"what color?"<br />What do you know, she has a pair and only worn once. A life saver!!<br />So now to break them in and practice.. so I don't look a girl clomping around in mama's shoes<br /><br /><br />I am doing my chores in heels, which is not easy when you have slippery tile in the whole house. Sweeping, mopping and laundry. So lets hope by tonight I am a pro and my feet don't hate me!<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://img151.imageshack.us/img151/253/dsc0105n.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 286px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 445px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://img151.imageshack.us/img151/253/dsc0105n.jpg" /> <p align="center"></a><br /></p>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-85545281845751128402010-09-27T17:16:00.000-07:002010-09-27T18:15:28.974-07:00Huge News!!Okay I feel like am about to burst. The past couple weeks have been very rough on me physically (dealing with a cold) and emotionally.. and that's a big long story, So most of this has happened in just a weekend! So skim to the good part at the end or get comfortable.<br /><br />So we knew that eventually the time would come for our little gang to break up, for the roommates to move out on their own into the world. I just didn't think it was going to be any time soon. So when one of the room mates says that they are wanting to move out, my world starts into a tailspin. Currently we can not cover what the rent is on our own or with only one roommate.<br /><br />This leads us to start looking for a place to go. So first we are considering condo's. We look at some, really love some and then we find out about the HOA's per month. Nearly 250$ just in HOA thats not even covering anything else. Even so we still really like them, but we find out that the banks are not financing them.<br /><br />So plan B. <strong>Friday</strong> I am set out to look for apartments. Me and mom drive around to all the apartments in the area, getting pricing, scoping out areas and layouts. All apartments are saying we are looking too early for the timeline (the end of November is when the roomie leaves) And all places are 99-100% full. Great!!<br /><br />All along Mr's Dad really wanted us to look for a house. Both of us though that it would not be possible within our price range. Or that all of them would be old and gross and need too much work!! But to entertain the idea...<br /><br /><strong>Saturday</strong> we start out early in the morning looking at places. The first one is a bust, WAY too much work to be done. I really feel like we wont find anything special. Our timeline does not really allow for short sales homes (as they can take forever to close on them). The second house we looked at was promising from the outside. The yard was nice, where most we looked at had dried up lawns. The paint on the outside was fresh, new and clean.<br /><br />It was an investor who bought the house to flip it. New tile floors, freshly painted walls and new carpet. A lovely back yard with a covered patio, beautiful lawn and mature grown trees, adding shade and privacy. It was really nice. We went to look at several other places but none of them even came close.<br /><br /><strong>Sunday </strong>we go in to make an offer...<br /><br />And Today <strong>Monday, <span style="font-size:130%;">They accept it!</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Me and Mr. Are buying our very own, First house!! </span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong><br />How exciting and scary all at once. So much to do and get done. Packing, moving, changing our address, cleaning. All while working and right before the holidays!! I've been made to keep it a secret for a couple weeks now, so that's why I have been MIA from the computer and the blogosphere, too much going on to handle. I have had emotional breakdowns, and ups And its only the beginning!Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-79270735911828103982010-09-19T11:00:00.000-07:002010-09-19T11:14:24.301-07:00Yikes!I just completely disappeared from the blogosphere. I really don't have an excuse for myself, as to why I am not posting. Not like it matters one way or the other, but I mostly made a promise to myself to keep at it. Then I slip into missing a day, then it becomes easy to not post anything, easy to not even get on the computer.<br /><br />I have been so wrapped up in my daily life this past week or so, that I completely even forget to check my email. This is pretty normal for me, time to time. I lose interest in being social and keeping up 'appearances' online. I just say the things I need to say to people in person, or don't feel the need to say anything at all. Then all of a sudden ,I will be on the computer all the time, addicted.<br /><br />We finally have some semblance of fall weather now, breezy and cool. Even being over cast puts me in a better mood..usually. Right now (and I can't say what.. sworn to secrecy) I am super stressed and thinking about "stuff". Super vague I know, but when the time is right I will find solace in the Internet. I think even that, has been putting a damper on my blogging mind, If I can't say what major things are happening in my life, what do I have to talk about? So I just give up on saying anything at all.<br /><br />Hopefully this will all be over soon and I can return to normal. Instead I will tell you this from class.<br /><br />At our pre-school site, which is located on a school grounds/ campus, our bathroom is a walk from our building. So it is usually my job to take our kids on bathroom runs. This time my teacher went with us, all the kids needed to go, yeah that crazy! One little girl did not have to go, so stayed next to my teacher and told her "<em>Why do we have to be out here? I just want to go back to your house!"</em> The little girl thought the classroom was our house, well why not? It had a play kitchen! She then continued "<em>Why don't you have a bathroom in your house? Why do you have to walk to get to it?"</em> Kids really are too funny, and amazingly perceptive<em>.</em>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-72627321140427217172010-09-14T15:36:00.000-07:002010-09-14T15:50:36.514-07:00I am a Genius!<a href="http://img691.imageshack.us/img691/2912/duncecap.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 345px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 233px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://img691.imageshack.us/img691/2912/duncecap.jpg" /></a><span style="color:#000000;"> Yes I am going to slouch and sink into obscurity, I am beating myself up in my own mind. I did something today which earns me this lovely dunce cap.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;">Shopping day, again, it always seems to be shopping day. There is just me and Mr. to buy for, but that boy sure can eat. So I am set on the task of making the dreaded menu and list. Why is it when I am put on the spot I can not think of anything?! So It takes me an hour to make a small list for two people. </span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">My first stop is Trader Joes, they have some really yummy frozen meals. I do love an easy dinner, especially when I am feeling below the weather..(<span style="font-size:85%;">is that a real term? I don't even know anymore). </span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color:#000000;">Then it is off to the worst of it all, the mother of all places I despise the most... *insert scary music here*</span> </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>Walmart.</strong> </span><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;">It is actually not as bad as I try to make it seem. I always hype it up to myself, and I</span> </span><span style="color:#000000;">always make it through rather painlessly.. other than the bottom of my feet from those long lines. We really do save <strong>a lot </strong>from shopping there. </span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">We usually don't get soda very often, I consider it a treat when we do. So I decided I was going to treat myself to something I don't allow myself often. I make it through the line, and when it gets checked out last, there is no room in the top of my cart for it to fit. So I stick it on the bottom..</span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><em><strong>Biggest Mistake!</strong></em> (I bet you see where this is going)I make it out to the car, load everything up. Drive the 10 minutes home, unload everything ...sit down to relax and... </span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">I forgot the soda on the bottom of the cart. So I better get some good karma in return for giving someone a free pack of soda. I guess someone was trying to tell me I didn't need it in the first place. </span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">Lesson learned, never go shopping when you feel like you need a nap, feeling ill and never ever place anything on the bottom of the cart, if you do not normally do so. </span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color:#000000;">So there, my lovely dunce cap earned.</span><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-91581214657841668232010-09-13T20:43:00.000-07:002010-09-13T21:00:11.174-07:00Hangin' in there!<a href="http://img4.imageshack.us/img4/8247/300295131.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://img4.imageshack.us/img4/8247/300295131.jpg" /></a><br /><div>Yesterday I thought I had cleared the worst of it. Instead I was only in the eye of the storm. Oh yes, yesterday I was feeling good, I did not miss whoopie Sunday because of illness, but of having a good day. </div><br /><div></div><div>Mr. and I went on a little bike ride together to a park down the street. Stopped off at the store to get some picnic goodies. Salami, cheese, crackers and brownie bites. Found a lovely shady spot under a tree and laid out on a blanket. It was wonderful, and perfect and now... </div><br /><div></div><div>I am feeling worse than before. I did not let that stop me today from making my whoopies. Although feeling a bit lazy ,did not get a picture. Tomorrow I suppose I will stage a lovely shot of my creation. </div><br /><div></div><div>Work is going smoothly, for being only the second week, the kids are rather well adjusted. Although we did have a girl cry because there was no toilet paper in the stall. I don't blame her, that is a rather frustrating occurrence, and at 4 yrs old rather traumatic. </div><br /><div></div><div>Tomorrow morning I have 36 alligators to cut out of construction paper, welcoming the week with the letter <strong>A</strong>! </div>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-9506418406445416702010-09-10T19:42:00.000-07:002010-09-10T20:03:50.006-07:00Don't you just love being sick?<a href="http://img13.imageshack.us/img13/3553/sickresize.gif"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 234px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 258px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://img13.imageshack.us/img13/3553/sickresize.gif" /></a><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;">It's those first few days, where you can feel it creeping up on you that I hate the most. Where it is just on the cusp of being too late, and there is nothing you can do about it. This in-between limbo. Just bring it on already and get it over with! I always love to hear </span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">"I have a sore throat" from a kid who just put their hands on me, and two days later I have one too, Thanks! </span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">Whenever I get sick, I <strong><em>GET SICK. </em></strong>There is no 'sleeping it off for me', it turns into a two week long dragged out ordeal, sometimes longer. And of course I can never make it through the year without contracting some sort of viral plague in which to spread to the rest of my family, Your Welcome. SO now I am popping C like its candy and drinking tea till I float, and two hour naps on the couch help too. So I am hoping I will be better by Sunday so I can complete another whoopie creation.</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">None of this helped today when I went to work. Today the teacher (bless her heart) had to stay home with her son. So I was left with a class of 20 4 yr olds within the first week of school. Luckily I got someone to come help me, a dear older lady who does most of the preschool subbing. Being older though, limited her abilities and being a sub limited her range of help. So I took it upon myself to make sure class ran as smoothly as possible. </span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">For the first time I ran the class, basically on my own, and did circle time and all our activities and made sure we began and ended everything on schedule. No one got lost on the bathroom run, and no one peed their pants, over all successful! I survived, and it was really rewarding knowing that I could keep the class in line on my own.<br /><br />Even so, I really hope she returns back to me on Monday. I so much more enjoy being the aide and not stressing as much, with 20 little judging eyes on you.</span> </div>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-25244126791258862662010-09-07T19:58:00.000-07:002010-09-07T20:14:52.453-07:00Planning a Vacation<a href="http://img547.imageshack.us/img547/729/cruiseship.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 439px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 263px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://img547.imageshack.us/img547/729/cruiseship.jpg" /></a><br /><div>Usually we try to take a vacation during the summer. <em>Mr</em>. works really hard during the school year, so he treats himself to a nice vacation and I get to tag along. This summer we went to Yosemite, although nice was not 'super luxury vacation'. </div><br /><div></div><div>So now he has set me on the task to plan our next vacation.. for next summer. Of course he does not want to par-take in any of the hard work (I guess that's how I earn my vacation) and leaves me to do all the research and planning. All he knows is that he wants to go somewhere he has not been before. Real definitive huh. </div><br /><div></div><div>We had discussed once before our joint interest in seeing Puerto Rico. So that's where I started. Hotels, how to get around, points of interest. I just hate planning all the little details. So I decided to look at cruises. We had really enjoyed our Alaskan Cruise, so thinking on that same game plan, all new research. With some more hard work and many site price comparisons, I found that if we fly straight to San Juan and leave on a cruise there, we can get more bang for our buck than if we flew to Florida and took a cruise from there. Who'd da thunk it. </div><br /><div></div><div>So now my mission is to find all the information I can on every port of call for that cruise, some of which include Dominica, Barbados and even the Netherlands Antilles. Of course I am really excited, which makes research easier and waiting even harder. I still have to work through the whole school year to get to summer! I think tomorrow I am going to hit up the book store and google and find out everything there is to know about Puerto Rico! </div>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-85331003353715507322010-09-06T19:34:00.000-07:002010-09-06T19:42:48.868-07:00Weekend Whoopie!<div align="center">Whoopie Pie time! </div><br /><div align="center">Peanut Butter Whoopie with a home made Dulce de Leche filling. <strong><em>YUM</em></strong>!</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcmBuJqdgqgfD6mDGrARLkZ1yRPSgxiXzBOdG6evQR4QUnoft-P6wPA0dl15GoQV1kobRfy9A-LUJ5Rx6stJ2lkBtzRL5HT5_E0Sd-lfyspQ8vZfMeHFR7TxO-S2Vxcv1x1SNTHH-ySM04/s1600/PBWhop.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 333px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 423px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513995461119671618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcmBuJqdgqgfD6mDGrARLkZ1yRPSgxiXzBOdG6evQR4QUnoft-P6wPA0dl15GoQV1kobRfy9A-LUJ5Rx6stJ2lkBtzRL5HT5_E0Sd-lfyspQ8vZfMeHFR7TxO-S2Vxcv1x1SNTHH-ySM04/s400/PBWhop.jpg" /> <p align="center"></a><br />The batter this time was really thin, and thus a thin whoopie! </p><p align="center">Yikes! Tomorrow is the first day of Preschool. I am excited to start the new year at work, new kids to meet and projects to do. It also means kids crying non-stop and lets hope for no pee'd pants <span style="font-size:78%;">eww</span>. * Fingers crossed!*</p>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-83606885354442108842010-09-04T22:11:00.000-07:002010-09-05T09:37:59.442-07:00nananana BATMAN!<span style="color:#000000;">I didn't do a whole lot today. Was glued to my DS today, I really needed to try and beat Super Mario, <span style="font-size:85%;">almost there</span>!. But I put that on hold, so that I could work on a very important piece of art. Right before my sister moved into her new place, she asked me if I would do a piece for their new space. The only rules to go by were it has to match their decor (reasonably) and it was to be "nerdy". In a good way of course, being a nerd myself I was really excited to do something fun and different. Little one likes 'Batman', so this is for you!...</span><br /><p align="center"><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-size:78%;">Yikes blurry pictures!</span><br /></span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 368px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513302782269282722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnUkkM6Z-oeicPNyCcAN4Z2G8gNcenCL5JSN-LdZu6r-SrAlP3TZXSd3q4ElQb0Ovf-M_BXyyZSeULkyW7AnNeQ4bC1Pa0uzjmjk9w_10c4FsxUyrpz8ylMEVyHwHMj4yqqPVBYTJd0_sR/s400/batman1.jpg" /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnUkkM6Z-oeicPNyCcAN4Z2G8gNcenCL5JSN-LdZu6r-SrAlP3TZXSd3q4ElQb0Ovf-M_BXyyZSeULkyW7AnNeQ4bC1Pa0uzjmjk9w_10c4FsxUyrpz8ylMEVyHwHMj4yqqPVBYTJd0_sR/s1600/batman1.jpg"></a><p align="center">Dimensions (18"x24")<br />Close up:<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513302771874369890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0-wd3pjQ5L090_Is-HNFcA1iGRJlW1ppxwWoIrZcSFFdah8vO3fENmA-Bo5-Ylns64IGiKEs7m0NhAXPdm9rChYEpPbUasf0gHcTcbGjE-xy52HoV2JHG5jI14ZpH3BMp7my3h93fpfYu/s400/batman2.jpg" /></p> <span style="color:#000000;">I loved the way it turned out, I personally am not a fan of Batman, but I could be now.. (or just a fan of myself ) I just love seeing my stuff framed and up on walls (not like I'm vain or anything).<br /><br /></span><div></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">Sunday Whoopies will have to be put off till Monday, Tomorrow we are going to a local brewery (Sierra Nevada one of my favorites) With <em>Mr</em>.'s friends and the roomies. </span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;">Back to Mario now I have level 8 to beat!</span></div>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-68782354948389946892010-09-02T17:16:00.000-07:002010-09-02T18:20:16.159-07:00Too Competitive?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc3ImyhCbm4jT_t5tevmfYhEuMHWWla_XVbLJw0z0V6P-jnAi-XsaYQi76jS58nVypWOW241jwAG9SbMi_YaaSeoSuwyvF6XzKHlZ7q3yh4vsfnw6vFmhOxKdlCaGcIm4njA9oebX3FUTM/s1600/battleship.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 509px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 343px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512489811009090898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc3ImyhCbm4jT_t5tevmfYhEuMHWWla_XVbLJw0z0V6P-jnAi-XsaYQi76jS58nVypWOW241jwAG9SbMi_YaaSeoSuwyvF6XzKHlZ7q3yh4vsfnw6vFmhOxKdlCaGcIm4njA9oebX3FUTM/s400/battleship.jpg" /></a><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;">Ever since I was little, I have been super competitive at whatever it is I do. Unless I chose to not care, and chose not to be (but that's different). I'm mostly talking about games.<br /><br />I love playing games, board or card, I love it. The problem is there is no one to play with. Why? You ask, because I went and dug myself a game playing grave. Instead of playing games for the fun, I love to play... <strong>To win</strong>! What is the point of a game, if not to win?<br /><br />Well sure you can play to 'have fun', 'together-ness'<br /><strong><em>whatever</em></strong>.<br /><br />At least growing up that was my mind set. I would try to win every game I played. I would be as cut throat as I needed to be, of course I never cheated, I just <em>knew</em> how to win. If I was not winning, that was a problem. I don't even want to go into our seldom Monopoly games that did not end in 'happy family time together'.<br /><br />Soon enough, no one would want to play with me. Although I am not the only one (which makes me being the winner more difficult) I know some others- <span style="font-size:85%;">not naming names</span> <strike>dad</strike>- who are as well, which just fuels the fire. </span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;">Now that I am older, I can appreciate playing a game and NOT having to win.. *cough lie * Well mostly just with kids, I can turn it off and not win. </span></div><br /><div><br /><span style="color:#000000;">So now when I want to play a game with Mr. he does not want to play, or blames me of being too competitive. So I am trying to learn to not be, in a way. Although he is just as I am, in some ways. I remember the first time we played battleship together, HE CHEATED. Yes I am calling him out, and still do to this day. Not to mention he will lose on purpose, just so I win. Where is the fun in that? </span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;">So the moral to my ramble, I need to cool it, and I am working on it! really... until the next game of Uno then its all out the door. </span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-14053628321534106432010-08-31T13:14:00.000-07:002010-08-31T13:49:54.838-07:00I'm getting lazy!How could I miss my sunday post about whoopies? Easy.. I was too busy eating them!<br /><p align="center">This week I made Lemon Whoopie Cake with Lemon Mascarpone filling and Lemon Cake with Dark Berry Jam. </p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 416px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 305px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511676442842808610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK2oO2hyphenhyphenLCBnel_t_4IM6fxMo6bwPQ1DFal-BmAthq_xLY5zv88wTF4K_xanbBUSaV6g8dZjgQ6N-3qL7pTvMJLweaYesRz3Ws2Ze6Pl-WcNOWkco_9NKo_PoSa-1342sGQTDH-B9wKmkC/s400/lemonwhop.jpg" /><br />This has been my <u><strong>favorite </strong></u>one as of yet. The savory/sweet filling and tang of the mascarpone cheese. The soft subtle lemon flavor and fluffy sponge of the cake. SO GOOD! It was mom's idea to pair the lemon with a dark berry jam. My favorite part, blackberry, raspberry and blueberry, the perfect treat with tea. I have eaten way more of these, than any of the previous whoopies. Now it will be hard to find something that can even compete!<br /><br />Another reason for my belated post is that I got my DS back from little one. So of course I went to get some new games. and <em>OF COURSE</em> I have been addicted to playing them, spending every spare second with my fingers glued to the DS. Which then means the dishes don't get done, laundry isn't folded. Dinner does not get cooked till late, and then I am too lazy to 'really' cook. A passing phase, I hope.<br /><br />Meet the teacher for preschool is on Thursday, I was told to "dress nice". 'Like I already don't?' well.. its not the dressing nice part, its the looking presentable (i.e my crazy morning hair) and remembering when I get ready in the morning. Hopefully it all goes smoothly (as smoothly as 36 3 - 4 yr olds can go).<br /><br />I've blabbered enough! Time to go make myself a proper lunch and not just live off of whoopies!Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-63807428430339875842010-08-28T19:12:00.000-07:002010-08-28T19:51:03.458-07:00Things I should never do<div align="center">Where do I even begin? </div><p align="center"><strong>1. Move large furniture by myself:</strong></p><p align="center">I am way more ambitious than I ought to be. I look at things and tell myself "I can do that" </p><p align="center">Well, it turns out<em> I can</em>.. I just shouldn't. Even when I was younger, I would take it upon myself to re-arrange my bedroom. Scooting large dressers across the floor, using the wall as a push board for leverage. To this day the same applies. You would think by now I could learn to ask for help. </p><p align="center"><em>Mr</em>. went out shooting this morning, leaving me to my own devices. When the cat is gone the mice will play.. or just re-arrange the house. So I needed to move a large wing back chair from the office to the bedroom. My dad had helped get it into the house in the first place, so I had not moved this monster of a thing since. Not only is this thing wider and taller than I am, our door ways are put in obscure places with little spaces to get through. </p><p align="center">So I make an ocular assessment of the doorway and chair, Dad got it through there, couldn't I? So I begin shoving the chair across the room, twisting and turning the chair, trying to make this thing fit. 20 minutes and several explicits later and its crossed the threshold of the first door way. If it made it out of one doorway, logically it could fit through another right?? Wrong, I am angling this thing, flipping it over (by myself) in a tiny hallway, and shoving it each direction through the doorway. Nothing. Finally I get half of the chair and and...</p><p align="center">ITS STUCK! I push and pull and its not budging. As I try to move it, its going to scrape the door frame. Great, what do I do now? Sit and wait for Mr. to come home and show him my embarrassing mess I created for myself? Of course not, I am going to try and fix this problem on my own.. which leads to..</p><p align="center"><strong>2. Never remove or touch or deal with anything with the house fixtures.</strong></p><p align="center">In a moment of brilliance I decide it is in my best interest to remove the door from the hinges, just to give me that extra inch I need to make this thing fit perfectly. Never having removed a door before, I tackle this thing from the only way I can think how. Just remove the hinges. <strong>WRONG</strong> with a capital W. I should of turned to good ol google or Mom for help, but I was determined to get this done. I get the door off, get the chair into the room. That was much easier than expected, until I have to put the door back on. </p><p align="center">At this point its been about an hour of an ordeal, I hadn't bathed in two days, I was in my pajamas and I didn't even eat breakfast (thanks to sour milk). So I looked like a crazed maniac trying to put this thing up. Shoving wood pieces and towels under the door to prop it up. When my room mate comes home, walks by and just stares at me. </p><p align="center">I don't even want to know what it must of looked like, a crazy mess for sure. He helps me prop it up, and screw it back in. In the end he tells me of a super easy way to remove the door pin and put it back on. Great, why didn't I think of that ( and mom made me feel it all over again when I told her) Thankfully my room mate knows I do crazy things, and it comes to be expected with me in the house. </p><p align="center">From now on I am just going to make the men do all the heavy "man work" no more for me.</p>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-36750386259507992172010-08-27T22:07:00.001-07:002010-08-27T22:28:13.650-07:00They grow up so fast<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0ey3JqQbGraIcH2KWfMHRBdmY8iJfHKEqWBrfDr7Mk2az9I1UFZshDv9YIGnj16Jf8s2uhjEm_f0v-_m9XhSnId4HP8MExL4ft-vYQTObIWsh-rMNs7RPz6caBozWcvxJGoiPJobbjcho/s1600/003.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 333px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510324068359753650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0ey3JqQbGraIcH2KWfMHRBdmY8iJfHKEqWBrfDr7Mk2az9I1UFZshDv9YIGnj16Jf8s2uhjEm_f0v-_m9XhSnId4HP8MExL4ft-vYQTObIWsh-rMNs7RPz6caBozWcvxJGoiPJobbjcho/s400/003.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">This evening I helped my little sister move out, into her own new space. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">This is hard for me, We use to be super close, now she is just a passing shadow. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">She has her own friends now, a job, a life, and soon I feel I will not be a part of it.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">So of course I took time to help her, hang her clothes, organize her belongings. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">My baby sister, all grown up, a woman ready to set out and make things work.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">I am so proud of her, and so worried. I can't imagine how mom feels. </span></div><div align="left"><strong><span style="color:#000000;"></span></strong></div><div align="left"><strong><span style="color:#000000;">Good luck little one!</span></strong></div><br /><strong></strong><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#000000;"></span></strong></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">In<strong> </strong>lighter (or heavy) news I am pretty sure I ripped off <strike>starbucks</strike> today. Lately I've been brewing my own, and I am not fond of the prices or taste of (S). For some reason today I had a hankerin' for a <em>Tea Latte</em>, something I would not make at home. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">So I go in, I never know "<em>the language" "the lingo" The how to of ordering</em>. So they ask while in line "what can I get started for you" I ask for my latte. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">Then, when I get up to the register, I have a yogurt and tell them I got the earl grey...</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">She rings it up, I pay with a GC and everythings all good. Till I walk away to wait for my drink and think... </span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">Wait a sec, a yogurt and a VENTI latte for THAT price. I totally didn't even think about it when she rang me up. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">I sheepishly (and nervously) wait for my drink, and walk out feeling like a criminal. Should I of mentioned she only charged me for a 'normal tea' and not a 'latte tea'. I am too honest of a person to walk away.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">and sadly I DID! If someone gives me the wrong change, I will tell them and give it back. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">But a couple dollars can't hurt right?? Will I hear about this in the end, reading from the book of my sins... </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div></div>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-7522417866687422362010-08-25T21:38:00.000-07:002010-08-25T21:51:00.796-07:00To Cut or not to Cut...Why do I feel like I am breaking some kind of rule right now, sneaking around at night to write a blog.<br /><br />Okay, so its only 9:40 currently, not late at all right? Well Mr. already went to bed, made it so I went too. "You need to start going to bed earlier" he tells me. So I try to sleep, but it just not gonna happen. So I start browsing through old pictures on my phone.<br /><br />For a while now I've been trying to grow my hair out. I look at old photos of when my hair was really long and beautiful. This process is just killing me though, I hate this yucky in between stage. I can't really do anything with it, I just wear it up. This heat isn't helping either. So looking at the photos, I see really cute pictures when my hair was shorter. A cute A-line cut, or a cute bob. I really liked how easy it was to take care of, manage and style.<br /><br />So now, I am thinking about chopping my hair off. It would be about a good 5-6 inches chop, shocker! I have never cried when I've gotten a cut done, at least that I can remember. Little one is like that, she always likes a cut, gets home and hates it. Usually I care less about what happens with my hair. Lately I've just felt so frumpy. It could just be the heat, but I don't know if I can wait it out till it cools down. I figure I could just write about it, help me take my mind off it, else I will <strong>never</strong> get to sleep!<br /><br />So back to sneaking around. I slip out of bed, tip toe to the office and here I am in the dark. Maybe what I need is a hot cup of tea. If I didn't already brush my teeth, I think I would be stuffing my face with Whoopie pies. I am just too much of a night owl to be crawling into bed before the sun goes down (exaggeration of course).<br /><br />Time to bust out the reading light, a good book and slip into another world for an hour. I'm sure with the dim light I will grow sleepy... or just blind.Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-57763010206399726982010-08-24T19:32:00.000-07:002010-08-24T19:50:42.584-07:00Waiting for Fall.<div align="center">I am counting down the days. </div><div align="center">I will celebrate it like a holiday. </div><div align="center">The first day of Fall. </div><div align="center">I can't wait for the leaves to start turning. </div><div align="center">I want cool breezes, and crisp blue skies. </div><div align="center">I want sweaters and boots. </div><div align="center">I want perfectly mild temperatures. </div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">Not the 106 , sweltering heat we are having right now. </div><br /><div align="center">Wish I had more to say today, instead I am just dreaming of fresh picked apples. Crunching leaves beneath your feet as you walk, and cold weather...even rain!</div><br /><a href="http://img833.imageshack.us/img833/3940/fallleaves.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 435px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 275px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://img833.imageshack.us/img833/3940/fallleaves.jpg" /></a>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-14549265798357548832010-08-23T19:03:00.000-07:002010-08-23T19:25:22.384-07:00Preparing for Preschool<div align="center">Only a few more days till I am back on a regular (non-summer) schedule. I am so excited to start a new year of preschool. The site that I am at, just moved into a brand new building. So today I had to organize and put away all of our stuff. Makes me kind of wish when we had packed up, we had done a better job of organizing it in the first place, oh well.</div><p align="center">36 new little snot noses, and I say that endearingly. A popular name this time around is Isabella, with 3. It seems people are either choosing the same names for their kids or really strange ones. Always looking for ways for their kids to stand out, replacing common spellings with strange letters. </p><p align="center">It will be so nice to be able to have a set schedule again. Off work by 12:30, the rest of my day to get things done. I will once again be able to go on walks with Mom, no more lazy bum. I have to be able to burn off all those whoopie pies... </p><p align="center">which leads me to... </p><p align="center">Red Velvet Whoopie Pie with Cream Cheese Frosting/filling. SO good! Too sweet for me to eat a bunch of (I am crazy, I know) so I am packing them up and ready to spread the joy. </p><br /><a href="http://img214.imageshack.us/img214/1253/redwhoop.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 490px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 315px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://img214.imageshack.us/img214/1253/redwhoop.jpg" /></a> I am really happy with how they turned out this time. Much more Whoopie shape, things are improving! well that's all for me. I have a hot cup of tea to enjoy, laundry to fold and tv to watch!Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-9854508595908898232010-08-22T18:47:00.000-07:002010-08-22T19:20:38.018-07:00How could I ignore you?<div align="center">One night missed, daily adventures not recorded.<br />Second night missed, now becoming easier to ignore the computer. </div><div align="center">I really did mean to write, and I do have some <strike>good </strike>excuses!</div><br /><br /><div align="center">So this weekend I have been a very busy little bee. I finally finished painting this for Mom...</div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimaVCpiWfYraITQCQ5SC3k86iZjp3pgmnLzl3vo_A8KQyzlmeM09XaGCOptTZbgXUfut7jMmFCtcJyHba3rZT39punk_19i_jigB6vTVbbTMWwHozo6XgwMuBZaDze0JIv_tdn_EYW8TLs/s1600/B1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508422328148316114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimaVCpiWfYraITQCQ5SC3k86iZjp3pgmnLzl3vo_A8KQyzlmeM09XaGCOptTZbgXUfut7jMmFCtcJyHba3rZT39punk_19i_jigB6vTVbbTMWwHozo6XgwMuBZaDze0JIv_tdn_EYW8TLs/s320/B1.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center">A lovely shade, It turned out really nicely. Even <em>Mr</em>. Complimented how it looked. (and remember he thinks 'colors' are tacky) so I was surprised. <strong>+1</strong> for me.</div><br /><div align="center">On top of that, I got <a href="http://lifeofmissrebecca.blogspot.com/2010/08/sore-fingers.html">the chair </a>stripped all the way down to it's birthday suit.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 233px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508422322032250322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjStqE3nJsocRegpemqjzxsMYaNFYAJTz009WJB98wBhpSZZzqYu1yLwCm8nLWbjjY-OOUUkcjmblIYkH9LGEM0R12Bgxsxpok2xI82AUrTUoiy4QxaWfozgQiwY5aWGz2_n9yv4Nw6sJk9/s320/b2.jpg" /><span style="font-size:85%;">(censored for all the kiddies out there.)</span><br /><br />I was now ready to <underline>try, and reupholster this bad boy. My first attempt ever at this sort of thing. I had everything I needed, except a staple gun. I was going to buy one, but Dad offered to let me use his, awesome. Save some money where ever I can. This thing is like a gun, "KaBlammy!" (thats the technical sound) </div><br /><br /><div align="center">I will spare you the boring part, putting it all back together. It is not perfect, and I had some troubles along the way (ie. the arms breaking ) all in all I am very happy with the way it turned out. Its squishy too! </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 287px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 350px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508422737537267362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5SV18_4G_YZih8PTj6gyCOLO9-FZcvYF8YJNhGaj1UeKeUnHqPDJxOELquD4psWmdjGeMj5KDePkFZyHAiIhHOcmGzRIilpgLyS6IPo60qZXWIXJBcWP1kf6UspkQ8ZJNm4U0EJH9kTC1/s320/b3.jpg" />I added some details to the back, maybe the shiny will distract people away from my craftsmanship. </underline><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_HMcuhsCtXSQ5oulOX9E0qbdEUBFojh0p8TmZKXkwxC5HM67NPnTJ_FkevG1QezV0Je_ubVUPE9wklmBrpeFaxvhGDt2SQV9C3oVeulriJhwGfbBi19wz0dR-HgpDU5Meq_ojI1ctjC5Y/s1600/b4.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 265px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508422311000416034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_HMcuhsCtXSQ5oulOX9E0qbdEUBFojh0p8TmZKXkwxC5HM67NPnTJ_FkevG1QezV0Je_ubVUPE9wklmBrpeFaxvhGDt2SQV9C3oVeulriJhwGfbBi19wz0dR-HgpDU5Meq_ojI1ctjC5Y/s320/b4.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center">Now I don't have an excuse not to blog. </div><br /><div align="center">Wish I had time to get to Whoopie Pies, Maybe later this week. </div><div align="center">Hope everyone had a productive weekend. I did so much, I am tuckered out, <strong>SO</strong> not ready for the work week!</div><br /></div>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-51841948921185236492010-08-19T21:03:00.000-07:002010-08-19T21:32:17.202-07:00Should have worn my depends!<div align="center">I walk into work at lunch time. Usually we eat outside at a set of picnic tables. With the beginning of school approaching, the tables are being cleaned, so lunch is indoors. All the kids greet me, and I find an open chair. I begin to eat my lunch, chatting with the kids when suddenly I feel a cold wetness on my lap...</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">I look down and the kid next to me has spilt his entire water bottle, right into my lap. </div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">I <em>love</em> my job.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><a href="http://img42.imageshack.us/img42/817/other12spilledwater.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 483px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 384px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://img42.imageshack.us/img42/817/other12spilledwater.jpg" /></a>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-85189212113194389012010-08-18T21:13:00.001-07:002010-08-18T21:33:31.765-07:00Too Good To Be True<div align="center">It's late, and I am exhausted. But.. I am not going to let that stop me from making my post! </div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Everything seemed all good and dandy today. Went to work, things went great, off to go help <em>Mr.'s</em> Mom with her classroom set up (A family of teachers! ), but then on my drive there...</div><div align="center"></div><br /><a href="http://img690.imageshack.us/img690/1921/72cef30d0c7a4f72598492e.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 318px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 222px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://img690.imageshack.us/img690/1921/72cef30d0c7a4f72598492e.jpg" /></a><br /><p align="center">Okay, so not really that bad. In my world it is, my car had a warning check engine malfunction death scare things are going weird, light come on. Soon after the car was running funny, I could hardly accelerate. Of course, knowing nothing about cars, not wanting to be stranded, I start to freak out. It was 'too good to be true' that my old hoopty of a car was still running, and treating me well. This was bound to happen, it was just a matter of when.</p><p align="center">I call Dad, He asks me to start out by popping open the hood, yeah like I do<em> that</em> all the time. Look for things like belts and spark plugs, It is like he is speaking in another language. No help, tells me to tow it if it wont run. Thankfully I was really close to the school, where I then could be followed home by Mr's Mom. I felt so thankful for my back up, At least I would not be on the side of the road alone! </p><p align="center">Long story short... Oh and it could be longer. They (as in manly men who know things about things that run, as in Mr.) replace the 'Spark plugs' and other wires and "thing-a-ma bobs". And now after hours of sweating it out, biting my nails, worry warting over it, it runs. It runs better than before, I about had a heart attack of happiness. </p><p align="center">I am just so glad someone is looking over my shoulder. </p>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-82388171080092047652010-08-17T18:41:00.000-07:002010-08-17T19:16:40.835-07:00Sore Fingers!Work today was a little rough, the kids were <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">naggin</span>' on each other, she did this, he did that. I was about to pull my hair out.<br /><br /><a href="http://img708.imageshack.us/img708/725/womanpullinghairout.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 195px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 149px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://img708.imageshack.us/img708/725/womanpullinghairout.jpg" /></a><br />Thankfully I got out at an early time today, so I decided to go out, and shop around town. My first stop was Ye' <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ol</span>' Good Will. With little one moving out, I promised her that I would keep an eye out for anything good, or worth refinishing. Of course I always have an eye out for myself as well. Giving cryptic messages to <em>Mr.</em> when he calls and asks what I am doing. He does not approve of any more items, none the less fixer <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">upers</span>, coming into the house.<br /><br />I am doing my usual <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">route</span>, giving the 'once over' to isles. There are a couple items that might interest little one, so I send her a text. Then I see a desk chair, needing work, of course. It is mostly fine, but has <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">seen</span> its days and shows its age. Someone is already looking at it, sitting in it, contemplating. I hover around, pretending to be interested in other items. Aha, they are not getting it. Just curious, I look at the price.. 2.99! Okay.. I can justify this ONE purchase, I have been mentioning to <em>Mr.</em> for a few months now about getting a new desk chair. I always sweet talk my way out, I just have to do it one more time.<br /><br />It is a rather good size, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">rolly</span> wheels, large padded seat and back. Will this fit in my old <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">corolla</span>? I make an ocular assessment, deem it plausible and check out. Surprisingly, it fit just fine across the back seats. Although I must of looked a mess trying to get it back there.<br /><br />The next destination, was going to be the mall, but now it was the fabric store. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Conveniently</span> right across the street. I always get lost in this place, rows upon rows of crafty things, shiny things. Of course I am <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">suuuuper</span> indecisive, I can't decide what I like or want. Then there is another issue, what will <em>Mr.</em> say or like? Seems silly to make that part of my process, but we always have this conversation back and forth. I like bright colors, he thinks they are tacky! We share the office together, so I had to take in mind what he would be okay with looking at everyday. I would love a bold bright print, that is fun and cheery. He would prefer plain and boring, Yuck!<br /><br />An hour later, I have some supplies and a nice dark grey color. It is super soft, and should be much more comfortable than my current chair. <em>Mr.</em> will like it, and then we will both be happy. Now the big thing is going to be to<span style="color:#990000;"><em> reupholster it *dramatic music here* </em><span style="color:#000000;">which I have never attempted before. Yikes! </span></span><br /><br />So to get to the point of why I have sore fingers (gosh finally right...) I have spent the past 3 hours plucking staples from the underneath of the chair, and they are not always so willing to be pulled out. Slaving over the over zealous stapling, which I deem very <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">unnecessary</span>, trying to break this thing into pieces. So Alas here is my chair... before deconstruction. Wish me luck, and wish my poor fingers a good nights rest..<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji8SMNRcu09YXGp-QJGVnbqDvvQIz_xGyQtaX2eE6H8S-eF6zWimv-qVCS61qQhzkUk9lymQrq5aMtLR_6UZN-d2wKx46o42MZlE8XT5L2JZP5zGiFh3bCNDhBW-WDn_OGvG4EE6AbK0pN/s1600/100_2005.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506565226472279410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji8SMNRcu09YXGp-QJGVnbqDvvQIz_xGyQtaX2eE6H8S-eF6zWimv-qVCS61qQhzkUk9lymQrq5aMtLR_6UZN-d2wKx46o42MZlE8XT5L2JZP5zGiFh3bCNDhBW-WDn_OGvG4EE6AbK0pN/s320/100_2005.JPG" /><br /><p align="center"></a></p><span style="font-size:85%;">planning to paint the wood.. I am thinking teal... or some bright yellow. HA <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">stickn</span>' it to the man.<br /></span>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-62088985230722878282010-08-16T19:39:00.000-07:002010-08-16T19:57:32.315-07:00Mini Me MondayToday was a pretty uneventful day. So because Mondays are just awful, ripping you away from weekend bliss, I need an easy post. So I will post a picture of me from when I was a wee lil tot.<br /><p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOS0nhsSghrLYj3Ay7YiUTDsMOnmI_cYDALAiR09wsNklFdKw1IoH7b5K3sfHZNfav9fZ0JByfmuOZE7vuSE6Wb1WV8TRnCXJbg_jM8Ml9gnBVSyq6y4Yt2NBVab0eOi2BSzIdoIbyuCQU/s1600/008.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 517px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 395px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506204038001914146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOS0nhsSghrLYj3Ay7YiUTDsMOnmI_cYDALAiR09wsNklFdKw1IoH7b5K3sfHZNfav9fZ0JByfmuOZE7vuSE6Wb1WV8TRnCXJbg_jM8Ml9gnBVSyq6y4Yt2NBVab0eOi2BSzIdoIbyuCQU/s400/008.jpg" /></a><br />Nothings really changed, not even really my height. Funny, I still pose just like this for most pictures. I am incapable of taking serious pictures. I will always throw up some bunny ears, or make a goofy face. My mom always gets so frustrated whenever we take group pictures. Sorry mom. </p><p>Little One is moving out of Mom's place and picking up a spare couch I have here. I guess this is forcing me to fold my laundry, that currently resides on top. She is also looking for some art to be done for her space. I really need to start brain storming, I have not even started on the "Sketch Book Project" eek! I need some serious inspiration! Work is just sucking some life out of me right now, when I get home all I want to do is watch tv.( Bad, I know!) </p>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791531156620104443.post-58923503252704800602010-08-15T21:16:00.000-07:002010-08-15T21:56:12.874-07:00Thats Just Beachy<div align="center">After almost a month of saying "oh hey, we should go to the beach" and then plans changing, things coming up, we finally went. We wake up early in the morning, prep our items to take and I check the weather. 57 as a high on the beach, 93 here locally. I feel insane packing a sweater and long pants. In retrospect I should of brought a parka and a heavy blanket. 57 on the beach maybe during the peak. We ended up getting there still early in the morning and it was frigid!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-JEPAz8sptFJx30ODEd6cUV0Ksbw_3lRovL48LdHGW8gAlJCj9dApH1cNu7HQxz4I9OnVdo7zaeMBTETZR8_e0xT-SaibwvvHon0eY38grM3rkyapbTZUsL-gOw0vfIXzqsMisRID-Wwb/s1600/bay09.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 355px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 259px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505860779119633618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-JEPAz8sptFJx30ODEd6cUV0Ksbw_3lRovL48LdHGW8gAlJCj9dApH1cNu7HQxz4I9OnVdo7zaeMBTETZR8_e0xT-SaibwvvHon0eY38grM3rkyapbTZUsL-gOw0vfIXzqsMisRID-Wwb/s320/bay09.jpg" /></a> So this is on our drive to the bay. Passing through the heart of San Francisco.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh5IC7J_HoWoL2ziOcZXZsm1H2q0rKTUxOrNMxtxqZmXKSLKeejwbdz4QYCv4fxoaeNF9YXW5evdxiRKq-tPjw6YDc3xs0HT9Us7jbTXn_UzkJX93zil7YVTE8oakNrRtl3i8Z_NXiB-1h/s1600/bay08.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 341px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 261px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505860776649077634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh5IC7J_HoWoL2ziOcZXZsm1H2q0rKTUxOrNMxtxqZmXKSLKeejwbdz4QYCv4fxoaeNF9YXW5evdxiRKq-tPjw6YDc3xs0HT9Us7jbTXn_UzkJX93zil7YVTE8oakNrRtl3i8Z_NXiB-1h/s320/bay08.jpg" /></a><br />Foggy and grey. Which I love, I wish it was cold year round. I can't stand it when it is so hot. My motto is "you can always put more on, but you can only take so much off"<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsQYsYkm5FAUxzA4Gj_ttAbmQQ41OlIcPcm0FK2uw97ql_kTOHlkac4FAZ_3EXoSPp6i6kwUrqNkAengMkSHeyK-HB8jxrIeIoWXFa09-vup6Wb9VVdMsSb9NmV-2FRW70QLVAih3FFgCJ/s1600/bay07.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 339px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 252px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505860771860522242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsQYsYkm5FAUxzA4Gj_ttAbmQQ41OlIcPcm0FK2uw97ql_kTOHlkac4FAZ_3EXoSPp6i6kwUrqNkAengMkSHeyK-HB8jxrIeIoWXFa09-vup6Wb9VVdMsSb9NmV-2FRW70QLVAih3FFgCJ/s320/bay07.jpg" /></a> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 337px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 252px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505860764728950562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8RkRVlzzj7B10bXPme_myg11KNr1GTVpSAQnHAMvktQ1JWVDfAaqjspZxP1GixJfSAIR9pm0EeyW8JRK1pEMQSPYK6uOm6X__DoIJEEOcB-BuinuKpLR0LZ9fSxT7T7_AG1tfjkDDKUl8/s320/bay06.jpg" />There is the famous Alcatraz Prison!<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 348px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 259px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505860541652574178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_HByBm5z-xtRAOucMN44rLNgq5DKbUFYSIK7Dmdylwdx2NAzLa0g8b1zKdE58Kjh5ZXwyBfkhhgMjpd_9af5njPUg9Z1yLx9_vYplEDNzFQuxqsmow6lvYOIFC2zje9S7KpJgxMvKX7Do/s320/bay05.jpg" />We finally reach the beach, cold, but beautiful. I love the smell of the sea water in the breeze, the soft sand between the toes. I can even stand the sound of the sea gulls, unless they are trying to steal your food! We bundle up, walk out to a good spot to set up camp. Ahh, time to kick the shoes off (if we were wearing any) and just relax. </div><div> </div><div>Just two of us, with our picnic, snuggled up for warmth, watching the waves crash on the shore.<br /><div> </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505860537927496018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Xmfl9fG6uvzdRXAR4O1NPAFDlX65tplPTEK9lEIOcuz5lErSnHa_cwloekIVyRj2g56aJzzHzOU5JS5MghzyH3yzwfUUO-Nov0M-JQFQQ46dt7sKUaNEq8tRNEDTOEGqDamJuQxvwSSC/s320/bay04.jpg" />Soon more people are gathering on the beach. Even people flying kites. I have always wanted to fly kites on the beach, but never got around to it. I will have to keep it in mind for the next time.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505860530984691330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4KZ3Q2k8H4okrHQ_p_jFIku47rWEcJg-MCy0GkZQqahcscMdX1W6p8FeAbFjaRbg7qJnE9HN5oMZj4cLi0wSxatymOAwisXgIyxQAzIRj_Xd6PIqrMuI-rlqvy1KIM_udOvjO6ZaBIXEU/s320/bay03.jpg" /><br /><div>The sun has come out! We pass a frisbee back and forth (I'll have you know, I am not very good at it). Each time, I almost hit the party right behind us, so we put it away and decide to walk around.<br /><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1KjHfm7safGB3ByvsP_t_dQ-VjMcJShHBNMvvtfKG6WcdsYxnkdN_6i1kCSVylQWUrTymlfUQzyzwrmK86J2H0UnxU8tp0ryoyYhg1CB5iTZvnsDeTUMIbt_s8cNduJZL2AHGmIbZzxhi/s1600/bay02.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505860527810647586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1KjHfm7safGB3ByvsP_t_dQ-VjMcJShHBNMvvtfKG6WcdsYxnkdN_6i1kCSVylQWUrTymlfUQzyzwrmK86J2H0UnxU8tp0ryoyYhg1CB5iTZvnsDeTUMIbt_s8cNduJZL2AHGmIbZzxhi/s320/bay02.jpg" /></a>Of course no trip is complete with out the "lets try to take a pic of us together" Shot.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq_eH4jfzYM6XvFEtwG_sugb06QvemQhzmDkugDc3bGz2ltWzIlMI3gOMyhwDkHUay1JJGE5UDGaM70vCTZXKvFrp-ZFqUG_tMWJcxY6qCxvXSRdBiZ1uhmuM6kNuyd1JgVmPdSGvcwZBq/s1600/bay01.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505860519144239170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq_eH4jfzYM6XvFEtwG_sugb06QvemQhzmDkugDc3bGz2ltWzIlMI3gOMyhwDkHUay1JJGE5UDGaM70vCTZXKvFrp-ZFqUG_tMWJcxY6qCxvXSRdBiZ1uhmuM6kNuyd1JgVmPdSGvcwZBq/s320/bay01.jpg" /></a><br />With our wind blown hair, no beach shot in the background and reflections of our arms, <strong><em>This</em></strong> is a keeper.<br /><br />As the beach gets more crowded, as the sun burns away the fog, its time to leave. So we are on our way to the car when.. <strong><em>*SPLAT* </em></strong>right on my arm. Of course, I got tagged by a passing sea gull. To make it even better, I discovered I had a hole in my 'new' favorite pair of jeans, in an inappropriate place to wear in public, spot. I just got over the trauma of my 5 year old jeans being worn into ruins. With so much trouble finding jeans just a week ago, I have to do it all over again! </div><div> </div><div>I can not let that damper my day, over all it was really nice. Great before the start of another work week.<br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div>Miss Rebecca @ Flaming Ichijiku Arthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09592381169762123512noreply@blogger.com5