tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66892043710235775642024-03-12T20:04:29.528-07:00LeslieLoquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-49010603776427249632010-07-19T15:26:00.001-07:002010-07-19T15:38:18.667-07:00Lyn's Tag<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/TETRM1fm-uI/AAAAAAAAAhA/e71TDJF8Lps/s1600/wakeboarder.bmp"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 109px; height: 83px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/TETRM1fm-uI/AAAAAAAAAhA/e71TDJF8Lps/s200/wakeboarder.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495747463747140322" /></a><br />Just when I thought it was a thing of the past,<br />Lyn has tagged me with<br />Ten Current Things About Myself...<br />1. First time Grandma<br />2. Able to cross the wake in and out for the first time<br />3. Went to Tahiti this year<br />4. Swam with sharks<br />5. Can dead lift probably 60 lbs 3 x (you definately win Lyn)<br />6. I take china painting classes<br />7. I enjoy running stairs<br />8. Am sporting a tan and a pulled muscle courtesy of Lake Powell<br />9. Have a son on a mission<br />10.Have a cupcake obsession lately; have you tried the Cocoa Bean? Delicious!Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-84960261113790665542010-03-28T09:06:00.001-07:002010-03-28T09:10:28.829-07:00My beautiful new grandson!!!!<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/S69_WgsdC9I/AAAAAAAAAg4/ZPLap1TGZxM/s1600/William+2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 100px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/S69_WgsdC9I/AAAAAAAAAg4/ZPLap1TGZxM/s200/William+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453717698479197138" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/S69-okm0LCI/AAAAAAAAAgw/G6eK3hGhyMc/s1600/William-70.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/S69-okm0LCI/AAAAAAAAAgw/G6eK3hGhyMc/s200/William-70.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453716909255306274" /></a><br><br /><br>Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-40579166767969290792010-03-22T15:18:00.000-07:002010-03-22T15:19:47.605-07:00Whitney Returns-April 21st!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/S6fs-dCIamI/AAAAAAAAAgo/lG9FsZkLXc4/s1600-h/DSC09416.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/S6fs-dCIamI/AAAAAAAAAgo/lG9FsZkLXc4/s200/DSC09416.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451586431644887650" /></a>Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-39530462228573384822009-12-15T08:04:00.001-08:002009-12-15T08:05:17.707-08:00My Beautiful Missionary Daughter in Ecuador!<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SyezuG6DcOI/AAAAAAAAAgg/3njVfWOCBVo/s1600-h/DSC09947.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SyezuG6DcOI/AAAAAAAAAgg/3njVfWOCBVo/s200/DSC09947.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415494681645773026" /></a>Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-89867673861658845452009-12-06T19:25:00.000-08:002009-12-06T19:28:53.286-08:00Thought I could talk my way out of a ticket until the officer saw my dog in the backseat.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/Sxx2VqcGm6I/AAAAAAAAAgQ/rUzoS-eysYg/s1600-h/download.htm"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 114px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/Sxx2VqcGm6I/AAAAAAAAAgQ/rUzoS-eysYg/s200/download.htm" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412330966733986722" /></a>Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-48944862664736829302009-06-25T07:15:00.000-07:002009-06-25T07:15:16.165-07:00Aha! Jokes > Cartoons > Stress reducing plan<a href="http://www.ahajokes.com/crt370.html">Aha! Jokes > Cartoons > Stress reducing plan</a>Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-63635819131672776362009-05-11T08:51:00.000-07:002009-05-11T08:54:33.862-07:00Where Can I get this t-shirt?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SghJ-mxCrbI/AAAAAAAAAgI/4y0QE3bKnQs/s1600-h/tn.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SghJ-mxCrbI/AAAAAAAAAgI/4y0QE3bKnQs/s200/tn.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334595098527313330" /></a>Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-82127067708619896102009-04-27T08:31:00.000-07:002009-04-27T08:32:08.964-07:00Happy 14th Birthday-Amanda!!!<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SfXP4HtyMNI/AAAAAAAAAgA/HlibkWzKgz0/s1600-h/happy-birthday.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 198px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SfXP4HtyMNI/AAAAAAAAAgA/HlibkWzKgz0/s200/happy-birthday.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329394297113555154" /></a>Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-65601507340652294482009-03-23T12:00:00.001-07:002009-03-23T12:01:31.559-07:00Need I say more?<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/ScfcgdFpg8I/AAAAAAAAAf4/n4vkVvgBaww/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 152px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/ScfcgdFpg8I/AAAAAAAAAf4/n4vkVvgBaww/s200/untitled.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316460335256404930" /></a>Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-52657184569023252512009-03-05T17:47:00.000-08:002009-03-05T17:50:00.191-08:00Because Laughter is Important!President Thomas Monson was returning to Salt Lake City after a speaking engagement and when his Plane arrived there was a limousine there to transport him to his home. <br /><br /> As he prepared to get into the limo, he stopped and spoke to the <br /> driver. 'You know' he said, 'I am getting pretty old and I have never driven alimousine. Would you mind if I drove it for a while?' <br /><br /> The driver said, 'No problem. Have at it.' <br /><br /> President Monson gets into the driver's seat and they head off down the highway. A short distance away sat a rookie Highway Patrolman operating his first speed trap. <br /><br /> The long black limo went by him doing 70 mph in a 55 mph zone. <br /><br /> The trooper pulled out and easily caught the limo and he got out of his patrol car to begin the procedure. The young trooper walked up to the driver's door and when the glass was rolled down, he was surprised to see who was driving. He immediately excused himself and went back to his car and called his supervisor.<br /><br /> He told the supervisor, 'I know we are supposed to enforce the law.. But I also know that important people are given certain courtesies. I need to know what I should do because I have stopped a very important person.'<br /><br /> The supervisor asked, 'Is it the governor?' <br /><br /> The young trooper said, 'No, he's more important than that.'<br /> The supervisor said, 'Oh, so it's the president.....' <br /> The young trooper said, 'No, he's even more important than that.' <br /><br /> The supervisor finally asked, 'Well then, who is it?' <br /><br /> The young trooper said, 'I think it's Jesus, because he's got President Monson for a chauffeur!'Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-37670265926192206792009-01-22T06:51:00.000-08:002009-01-22T06:59:33.754-08:00Lost Dog!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SXiJhBFA6_I/AAAAAAAAAd0/ABOcNE4LapM/s1600-h/Amanda+737.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SXiJhBFA6_I/AAAAAAAAAd0/ABOcNE4LapM/s200/Amanda+737.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294132562292173810" /></a><br /> We have lost our dog Riley. He is a toy American Eskimo and if you see him in the Provo/Orem area please call the number on his tags! My youngest son is heartbroken!Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-90483979206201308732009-01-13T10:19:00.001-08:002009-01-13T10:24:16.810-08:00Missionary Mishap<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SWzbhtm_ScI/AAAAAAAAAdk/QOhPKFD8CfE/s1600-h/wt_009.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SWzbhtm_ScI/AAAAAAAAAdk/QOhPKFD8CfE/s200/wt_009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290845034478782914" /></a><br />Whitney broke her ankle in an elegant maneuver descending stairs. It is rumored that the Olympic judges gave her a 8.5 (She was robbed). She is getting a cast next week and is being brave!Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-82197946644522329492009-01-13T10:01:00.000-08:002009-01-13T10:07:12.242-08:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SWzXngt1l0I/AAAAAAAAAdU/JQV5J2oGY_0/s1600-h/K4CAQPOSCDCAW6HT3LCAQMV33ICATW4LUWCAB07DO4CA1TBXKNCACE52OUCAH7HZAKCAJOHF07CA5XH46XCAQH6P48CART6P2FCA5X5M78CAQQ6IOSCA3DV71VCAWMKVPFCACOGXOYCADREMQ6CAQPLXEE.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 87px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SWzXngt1l0I/AAAAAAAAAdU/JQV5J2oGY_0/s200/K4CAQPOSCDCAW6HT3LCAQMV33ICATW4LUWCAB07DO4CA1TBXKNCACE52OUCAH7HZAKCAJOHF07CA5XH46XCAQH6P48CART6P2FCA5X5M78CAQQ6IOSCA3DV71VCAWMKVPFCACOGXOYCADREMQ6CAQPLXEE.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290840736050550594" /></a<br /> <br />'Twas the month after Christmas, and all through the house<br />Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.<br />The cookies I'd nibbled, the eggnog I'd taste<br />At the holiday parties had gone to my waist.<br />When I got on the scales there arose such a number!<br />When I walked to the store, (less a walk than a lumber).<br />I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared;<br />The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,<br />The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese<br />And the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please."<br />As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt<br />And prepared once again to do battle with dirt---<br />I said to myself, as I only can <br />"You can't spend a winter disguised as a man!"<br />So--away with the last of the sour cream dip,<br />Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip<br />Every last bit of food that I like must be banished<br />"Till all the additional ounces have vanished.<br />I won't have a cookie--not even a lick.<br />I'll want only to chew on a long celery stick.<br />I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie,<br />I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.<br />I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore---<br />But isn't that what January is for?<br />Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.<br />Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet! <br /><br /><br />~Author UnknownLoquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-14099121716554812942009-01-13T08:05:00.000-08:002009-01-13T08:22:17.286-08:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SWy-LFlxBYI/AAAAAAAAAdM/7qn84HDhiHY/s1600-h/pic_nursery.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 155px; height: 114px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SWy-LFlxBYI/AAAAAAAAAdM/7qn84HDhiHY/s200/pic_nursery.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290812759941907842" /></a><br />KIDS <br />IN CHURCH <br />3-year-old <br />Reese : <br />'Our Father, Who does art in heaven, <br />Harold is His name. <br />Amen.' <br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />A <br />little boy was overheard praying: <br />'Lord, if you <br />can't make me a better boy, don't worry about it. <br />I'm having a real good time like I <br />am.<br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ <br />After <br />the christening of his baby brother in <br />church, <br />Jason <br />sobbed all the way home in the back seat of the car. <br />His father asked him three times what was <br />wrong. <br />Finally, the boy <br />replied, <br />'That preacher said he wanted us brought <br />up in a Christian home, <br />and I wanted to stay with <br />you guys.' <br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />One <br />particular four-year-old prayed, <br />'And forgive us <br />our trash baskets <br />as we <br />forgive those who put trash in our <br />baskets.<br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ <br />A <br />Sunday school teacher asked her children as <br />they<br />were on <br />the way to church service, <br />'And why is it <br />necessary to be quiet in church?' <br />One bright little <br />girl replied, <br />'Because people are <br />sleeping.<br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ <br />A <br />mother was preparing pancakes for her sons, Kevin 5, <br />and Ryan 3. <br />The boys began to argue over who would <br />get the first pancake. <br />Their mother saw the <br />opportunity for a moral lesson. <br /><br />'If Jesus <br />were sitting here, He would say, <br />'Let my brother <br />have the first pancake, I can wait.' <br /><br />Kevin <br />turned to his younger brother and said, <br />' Ryan , <br />you be Jesus !' <br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />A <br />father was at the beach with his <br />children <br />when the <br />four-year-old son ran up to him, <br />grabbed his hand, <br />and led him to the shore <br />where a seagull lay dead <br />in the sand. <br />'Daddy, what happened to him?' the <br />son asked. <br />'He died and went <br />to Heaven,' the Dad replied. <br />The boy thought a <br />moment and then said, <br />'Did God throw him <br />back down?' <br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />A <br />wife invited some people to dinner. <br />At the table, <br />she turned to their six-year-old daughter and said, <br />'Would you like to say the blessing?' <br />'I<br />wouldn't know what to say,' the girl replied. <br />'Just say what you hear Mommy say,' the wife <br />answered. <br />The daughter bowed her head and said, <br />'Lord, why on earth did I invite all these people <br />to dinner?'Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-74980797160122629462009-01-06T10:34:00.000-08:002009-01-06T10:38:30.301-08:00Finding Time For Joy In Our Lives<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SWOk6Euz5bI/AAAAAAAAAdE/-HKqeIUemFo/s1600-h/violinist.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 127px; height: 91px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SWOk6Euz5bI/AAAAAAAAAdE/-HKqeIUemFo/s200/violinist.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288251705072543154" /></a><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br />This is a true story and very interesting I think! <br />A Violinist in the Metro<br /><br />A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousand of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.<br /><br />Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule.<br /><br />A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping continued to walk.<br /><br />A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.<br /><br />The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.<br /><br />In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.<br /><br />No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best <br />musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars. Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats averaged $100.<br /><br />This is a real story.<br /><br />Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of an social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?<br /><br />One of the possible conclusions from this experience could be: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-53537014507901620342008-12-16T11:56:00.000-08:002008-12-16T12:31:41.291-08:00Christmas Through Jared's Eyes<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SUgN-RaTCtI/AAAAAAAAAc8/lPWuOeYYtCY/s1600-h/IMG_3124.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SUgN-RaTCtI/AAAAAAAAAc8/lPWuOeYYtCY/s200/IMG_3124.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280485926568659666" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SUgNe__BRyI/AAAAAAAAAc0/PUIJFcJYIvk/s1600-h/IMG_3115.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 87px; height: 130px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SUgNe__BRyI/AAAAAAAAAc0/PUIJFcJYIvk/s200/IMG_3115.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280485389314901794" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SUgIZdsvavI/AAAAAAAAAck/2KEDGrclgxA/s1600-h/IMG_3165.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SUgIZdsvavI/AAAAAAAAAck/2KEDGrclgxA/s200/IMG_3165.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280479796653943538" /></a><br />Christmas is Jared's favorite time of year. At 11 years old, most kids are well past the Christmas magic phase, but Jared still "believes." Every day he enthusiastically asks me if "Christmas tomorrow?" This morning when I woke up he had taken out every present under the tree and had put them in piles on the couch. He wears a Santa hat to school every day. Plugging in the Christmas lights outside and on the tree seems to have evolved into his responsibility. If someone is arguing or unhappy, Jared is the first to say, "We a happy family." He reminds us continually that Christmas is about peace. He does constant little acts of service daily; making his sister's bed, setting the table without being asked, helping his sister clean the kitchen, and of course his ever constant hugs and kisses. He makes us remember that the best gift is giving of ourselves. Jared brings the light of Christ and peace of the season into our home. Some people only see that Jared is handicapped, but all we see is love. We are so grateful for his presence in our family!<br />Pictures by BAP photography www.brittanyandersonphotography.comLoquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-21505237772270784152008-12-16T08:59:00.000-08:002008-12-16T09:03:32.184-08:00My Beautiful Missionary<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SUfe4Z7ScII/AAAAAAAAAcc/0PV5iNCVR9s/s1600-h/wt_055.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SUfe4Z7ScII/AAAAAAAAAcc/0PV5iNCVR9s/s200/wt_055.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280434148728795266" /></a><br />Sister Sorenson and my daughter Whitney<br />Quito, EcuadorLoquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-75422192854037794892008-12-08T13:24:00.000-08:002008-12-08T13:29:18.605-08:00December ChuckleMy Dear Friends and Family,<br /><br />Somewhat embarrassing to admit, I'm not getting an annual bonus and Christmas is tight this year. I will be making bedroom slippers for you all as gifts. Please let me know your sizes. You'll most likely agree that it's a splendid idea, and should you wish to do the same, I've included the instructions below. <br /><br /> <br />How to make bedroom slippers out of maxi pads: <br /><br />You need four maxi pads to make a pair. <br />Two of them get laid out flat, for the foot part. <br />The other two wrap around the toe area to form the top. <br />Tape or glue each side of the top pieces to the bottom of the foot part. <br /><br />Decorate the tops with whatever you desire, silk flowers (this is most aesthetically appealing), etc. <br /><br />These slippers are: <br />* Soft and Hygienic <br />* Non-slip grip strips on the soles <br />* Built in deodorant feature keeps feet smelling fresh <br />* No more bending over to mop up spills <br />* Disposable and biodegradable <br />* Environmentally safe <br />* Three convenient sizes: (1.) Regular, (2.) Light and (3.) Get out the Sand Bags. <br /><br />I've attached a photo of the first pair I made so that you can see the nifty slippers for yourself.... <br /><br />Awaiting your response. It's crucial that I get the right size for each one of you.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/ST2Q-Jj8JxI/AAAAAAAAAcU/Imydk0hylbQ/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 144px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/ST2Q-Jj8JxI/AAAAAAAAAcU/Imydk0hylbQ/s200/untitled.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277533735741040402" /></a>Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-73981471403788680522008-11-24T16:42:00.000-08:002008-11-25T09:04:37.326-08:00A friend invited people to bold what they have done on her list...<br />for you to do: copy and paste this to your blog and bold the ones that you HAVE done.<br /><br />1. <strong>Started your own blog</strong><br />2.<strong> Slept under the stars</strong><br />3. <strong>Played in a band</strong><br />4. <strong>Visited Hawaii</strong><br />5. Watched a meteor shower<br />6. Given more than you can afford to charity<br />7. <strong>Been to Disneyland</strong><br />8. <strong>Climbed a mountain</strong><br />9. <strong>Held a praying mantis</strong><br />10. <strong>Sang a solo</strong><br />11. Bungee jumped<br />12. <strong>Visited Paris</strong><br />13. Watched a lightning storm at sea<br />14. <strong>Taught yourself an art from scratch</strong><br />15. Adopted a child<br />16. Had food poisoning<br />17. <strong>Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty</strong><br />18. <strong>Grown your own vegetables</strong><br />19. <strong>Seen the Mona Lisa in France</strong><br />20. Slept on an overnight train<br />21. <strong>Had a pillow fight</strong><br />22. Hitch hiked<br />23. <strong>Taken a sick day when you’re not ill</strong><br />24. <strong>Built a snow fort</strong><br />25. Held a lamb<br />26. <strong>Gone skinny dipping</strong><br />27. Run a Marathon<br />28.<strong> Ridden in a gondola in Venice</strong><br />29. <strong>Seen a total eclipse</strong><br />30. <strong>Watched a sunrise or sunset</strong>31. Hit a home run<br />32. <strong>Been on a cruise</strong><br />33. <strong>Seen Niagara Falls in person</strong><br />34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors<br />35. <strong>Seen an Amish community</strong><br />36. Taught yourself a new language<br />37. <strong>Had enough money to be truly satisfied</strong><br />38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person<br />39. Gone rock climbing<br />40. <strong>Seen Michelangelo’s David</strong><br />41. <strong>Sung karaoke</strong><br />42. <strong>Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt</strong><br />43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant<br />44. Visited Africa<br />45. Walked on a beach by moonlight<br />46.<strong> Been transported in an ambulance</strong><br />47. <strong>Had your portrait painted</strong><br />48. Gone deep sea fishing<br />49.<strong> Seen the Sistine Chapel in person</strong><br />50. <strong>Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Par</strong>is<br />51. <strong>Gone scuba diving or snorkeling</strong><br />52. <strong>Kissed in the rain</strong><br />53. Played in the mud<br />54. <strong>Gone to a drive-in theater</strong><br />55. Been in a movie<br />56. Visited the Great Wall of China<br />57. Started a business<br />58. Taken a martial arts class<br />59. Visited Russia<br />60. <strong>Served at a soup kitchen</strong><br />61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies<br />62. <strong>Gone whale watching</strong><br />63. Got flowers for no reason<br />64. <strong>Donated blood, platelets or plasma</strong><br />65. Gone sky diving<br />66. <strong>Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp</strong><br />67. Bounced a check<br />68. <strong>Flown in a helicopter</strong><br />69. Saved a favorite childhood toy<br />70.<strong> Visited the Lincoln Memorial</strong><br />71. Eaten Caviar<br />72. Pieced a quilt<br />73. <strong>Stood in Times Square</strong><br />74. Toured the Everglades<br />75. Been fired from a job<br />76. <strong>Seen the Changing of the Guards in London</strong><br />77. <strong>Broken a bone</strong><br />78. Been on a speeding motorcycle<br />79. <strong>Seen the Grand Canyon in person</strong><br />80. Published a book<br />81. <strong>Visited the Vatican<br />82. Bought a brand new car</strong><br />83. <strong>Walked in Jerusalem</strong><br />84. Had your picture in the newspaper<br />85. <strong>Read the entire Bible</strong><br />86. <strong>Visited the White House</strong><br />87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating<br />88. <strong>Had chickenpox</strong><br />89. Saved someone’s life<br />90. Sat on a jury<br />91. Met someone famous<br />92. Joined a book club<br />93. <strong>Lost a loved one</strong><br />94. <strong>Had a baby</strong><br />95. <strong>Seen the Alamo in person</strong><br />96. <strong>Swam in the Great Salt Lake</strong><br />97. Been involved in a law suit<br />98. <strong>Owned a cell phone<br />99. Been stung by a bee</strong><br />What a fun list! Although there are some things that I know I'll never do... Thanks ) I tag Lyn, Aly, Amanda, Brittany, and anyone else who wants to...Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-11551272140682353182008-11-15T20:22:00.000-08:002008-11-15T20:40:32.301-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SR-huEjNDqI/AAAAAAAAAWo/u46W5XhSvU0/s1600-h/download.htm"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 169px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SR-huEjNDqI/AAAAAAAAAWo/u46W5XhSvU0/s200/download.htm" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269107901914222242" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /> A Girl with an Apple<br /> <br />August 1942.Piotrkow,Poland. The sky was gloomy that morning as we waited anxiously. All the men,women and children of Piotrkow's Jewish ghetto had been herded into a square. Word had gotten around that we were being moved. My father had only recently died from typhus, which had run rampant through the crowded ghetto. My greatest fear was that our family would be separated.<br /> <br />'Whatever you do,' Isidore, my eldest brother, whispered to me,'don't tell them your age. Say you're sixteen'.<br /> <br />I was tall for a boy of 11, so I could pull it off.That way I might be deemed valuable as a worker. An SS man approached me, boots clicking against the cobblestones. He looked me up and down,then asked my age.'Sixteen,' I said. He directed me to the left, where my three brothers and other healthy young men already stood.<br /> <br />My mother was motioned to the right with the other women, children, sick and elderly people. I whispered to Isidore, 'Why?' He didn't answer. I ran to Mama's side and said I wanted to stay with her.'No,' she said sternly. 'Get away. Don't be a nuisance. Go with your brothers.' She had never spoken so harshly before. But I understood: She was protecting me. She loved me so much that, just this once, she pretended not to. It was the last I ever saw of her.<br /> <br />My brothers and I were transported in a cattle car to Germany. We arrived at the Buchenwald concentration camp one night weeks later and were led into a crowded barrack. The next day, we were issued uniforms and identification numbers.<br /> <br />'Don't call me Herman anymore.' I said to my brothers. 'Call me 94983.'<br /> <br />I was put to work in the camp's crematorium, loading the dead into a hand-cranked elevator. I, too,felt dead. Hardened, I had become a number. Soon, my brothers and I were sent to Schlieben, one of Buchenwald's sub-camps near Berlin. One morning I thought I heard my mother's voice.. Son, she said softly but clearly, I am sending you an angel. Then I woke up. Just a dream. A beautiful dream. But in this place there could be no angels. There was only work. And hunger. And fear.<br /> <br />A couple of days later, I was walking around the camp, around the barracks, near the barbed-wire fence where the guards could not easily see. I was alone. On the other side of the fence, I spotted someone: a young girl with light, almost luminous curls. She was half-hidden behind a birch tree. I glanced around to make sure no one saw me. I called to her softly in German.<br /> <br />'Do you have something eat?' She didn't understand. I inched closer to the fence and repeated the question in Polish. She stepped forward. I was thin and gaunt, with rags wrapped around my feet, but the girl looked unafraid. In her eyes, I saw life. She pulled an apple from her woolen jacket and threw it over the fence. I grabbed the fruit and, as I started to run away, I heard her say faintly, 'I'll see you tomorrow.'<br /> <br />I returned to the same spot by the fence at the same time every day. She was always there with something for me to eat - a hunk of bread or, better yet, an apple. We didn't dare speak or linger. To be caught would mean death for us both. I didn't know anything about her just a kind farm girl except that she understood Polish. What was her name? Why was she risking her life for me? Hope was in such short supply, and this girl on the other side of the fence gave me some, as nourishing in its way as the bread and apples.<br /> <br />Nearly seven months later, my brothers and I were crammed into a coal car and shipped to Theresienstadt camp in Czechoslovakia.<br /> <br />'Don't return,' I told the girl that day. 'We're leaving.'<br /> <br />I turned toward the barracks and didn't look back, didn't even say good-bye to the girl whose name I'd never learned, the girl with the apples.<br /> <br />We were in Theresienstadt for three months. The war was winding down and Allied forces were closing in, yet my fate seemed sealed. On May 10, 1945, I was scheduled to die in the gas chamber at10:00 AM.<br /> <br />In the quiet of dawn, I tried to prepare myself. So many times death seemed ready to claim me, but somehow I'd survived. Now, it was over. I thought of my parents. At least, I thought, we will be reunited.<br /> <br />At8 A.M.there was a commotion. I heard shouts, and saw people running every which way through camp. I caught up with my brothers. Russian troops had liberated the camp! The gates swung open. Everyone was running, so I did too.<br /> <br />Amazingly, all of my brothers had survived; I'm not sure how. But I knew that the girl with the apples had been the key to my survival. In a place where evil seemed triumphant, one person's goodness had saved my life, had given me hope in a place where there was none. My mother had promised to send me an angel, and the angel had come.<br /> <br />Eventually I made my way to England where I was sponsored by a Jewish charity, put up in a hostel with other boys who had survived the Holocaust and trained in electronics. Then I came to America, where my brother Sam had already moved.<br /> <br />I served in the U. S.Army during the Korean War, and returned toNew York City<br />after two years. By August 1957 I'd opened my own electronics repair shop. I was starting to settle in.<br /> <br />One day, my friend Sid who I knew from England called me. 'I've got a date. She's got a Polish friend. Let's double date.'<br /> <br />A blind date? Nah, that wasn't for me. But Sid kept pestering me, and a few days later we headed up to the Bronx to pick up his date and her friend Roma. I had to admit, for a blind date this wasn't so bad. Roma was a nurse at a Bronx hospital. She was kind and smart. Beautiful, too, with swirling brown curls and green, almond-shaped eyes that sparkled with life.<br /> <br />The four of us drove out to Coney Island. Roma was easy to talk to, easy to be with. Turned out she was wary of blind dates too! We were both just doing our friends a favor. We took a stroll on the boardwalk, enjoying the salty Atlantic breeze, and then had dinner by the shore. I couldn't remember having a better time.<br /> <br />We piled back into Sid's car, Roma and I sharing the backseat. As European Jews who had survived the war, we were aware that much had been left unsaid between us. She broached the subject, 'Where were you,' she asked softly, 'during the war?'<br /> <br />'The camps,' I said, the terrible memories still vivid, the irreparable loss. I had tried to forget. But you can never forget. She nodded. 'My family was hiding on a farm in Germany, not far from Berlin,' she told me. 'My father knew a priest, and he got us Aryan papers.' I imagined how she must have suffered too, with fear as a constant companion. And yet here we were, both survivors, in a new world.<br /> <br />'There was a camp next to the farm.' Roma continued. 'I saw a boy there and I would throw him apples every day.'<br /> <br />What an amazing coincidence that she had helped some other boy. 'What did he look like? I asked.<br /> <br />He was tall. Skinny. Hungry. I must have seen him every day for six months.'<br /> <br />My heart was racing. I couldn't believe it. This couldn't be.<br /> <br />'Did he tell you one day not to come back because he was leaving Schlieben?' Roma looked at me in amazement.<br /> <br />'Yes,' That was me! '<br /> <br />I was ready to burst with joy and awe, flooded with emotions. I couldn't believe it. My angel.<br /> <br />'I'm not letting you go.' I said to Roma. And in the back of the car on that blind date, I proposed to her. I didn't want to wait.<br /> <br />'You're crazy!' she said. But she invited me to meet her parents for Shabbat dinner the following week. There was so much I looked forward to learning about Roma, but the most important things I always knew: her steadfastness, her goodness. For many months, in the worst of circumstances, she had come to the fence and given me hope. Now that I'd found her again, I could never let her go. That day, she said yes. And I kept my word. After nearly 50 years of marriage, two children and three grandchildren I have never let her go.<br /> <br /> <br />Herman Rosenblat Miami Beach,Florida <br /> <br /> <br />This is a true story and you can find out more by Googling Herman Rosenblat. He was bar mitzvahed at age 75. This story is being made into a movie called The Fence.<br /><br /> <br /><br />Also...you can watch them on Oprah if you google - Herman and Roma on Oprah 14th Nov 2007<br /><br /> <br /><br />What an amazing story!!!!Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-76946297618338763782008-10-30T19:46:00.000-07:002008-10-30T19:51:58.724-07:00Whitney in the MTC<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SQpyugQk5-I/AAAAAAAAAWI/3J8Z1QbBzu0/s1600-h/Project8.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 118px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SQpyugQk5-I/AAAAAAAAAWI/3J8Z1QbBzu0/s200/Project8.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263145257794856930" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SQpyuL0S2uI/AAAAAAAAAWA/w6BpHgMl5AQ/s1600-h/Project11.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 110px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SQpyuL0S2uI/AAAAAAAAAWA/w6BpHgMl5AQ/s200/Project11.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263145252307524322" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SQpytvCFhdI/AAAAAAAAAV4/MEqvENGttRo/s1600-h/Project16.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SQpytvCFhdI/AAAAAAAAAV4/MEqvENGttRo/s200/Project16.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263145244580742610" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SQpys8hn8sI/AAAAAAAAAVw/NkpAL2FmCbc/s1600-h/Project15.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SQpys8hn8sI/AAAAAAAAAVw/NkpAL2FmCbc/s200/Project15.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263145231022813890" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SQpyQ4rG9PI/AAAAAAAAAVo/OnM6KMkzvSk/s1600-h/Project14.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 138px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SQpyQ4rG9PI/AAAAAAAAAVo/OnM6KMkzvSk/s200/Project14.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263144748952515826" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SQpyH1pMNyI/AAAAAAAAAVg/PYee3NHjdWw/s1600-h/Project12.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 131px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SQpyH1pMNyI/AAAAAAAAAVg/PYee3NHjdWw/s200/Project12.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263144593520342818" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SQpx-BIGVQI/AAAAAAAAAVY/poCSCYdTCjw/s1600-h/Project13.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SQpx-BIGVQI/AAAAAAAAAVY/poCSCYdTCjw/s200/Project13.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263144424804078850" /></a><br />Whitney has been in the MTC learning Spanish and more about the gospel for the last mo. She is loving it! Just thought I would put a couple of pictures on that she sent last week.Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-82798802135693351962008-10-30T19:06:00.000-07:002008-10-30T19:27:47.114-07:00Lyn's TagI wish: my knees were young again<br />I hate: that our country isn't more rightous...<br />I miss: having Whitney and Melissa around..<br />I fear: I lack enough self-discipline..<br />I feel: so much better physically since going to Crossfit...<br />I hear: my children laughing together while carving a pumpkin...<br />I smell: the candle burning inside the pumpkin....<br />I crave: Mrs. Cavanaugh's lemon cream chocolates...<br />I search: the scriptures...<br />I wonder: why it is so hard to lose weight now....<br />I regret: missed opportunities...<br />I love: a good soak in the tub while reading a good book....<br />I care: about family, the gospel, friends....<br />I always: worry that I might hurt someone's feelings<br />I am not: a perfectionist<br />I dance: in my dreams...<br />I sing: all the time, especially Barbara Striesand and R&B<br />I don't always: show patience....or match....<br />I fight:for people I don't think are treated fairly...<br />I lose: a lot more often than I win...<br />I write: letters to my missionary daughter...<br />I tag: Melissa, Brittany, and anyone else who wants to..Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-63671164400852743762008-10-20T10:56:00.000-07:002008-10-20T11:07:39.603-07:00Gonna Be A Bear<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SPzIF73HwGI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/w62LGuC7VR8/s1600-h/bear_screen.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hyY6yC2bAHk/SPzIF73HwGI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/w62LGuC7VR8/s200/bear_screen.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259298469155684450" /></a><br /><br /><br />In this life I'm a woman. In my next life, I'd<br />like to come back as a bear. When you're a <br />bear, you get to hibernate. You do nothing<br />but sleep for six months. <br />I could deal with that.<br /><br />Before you hibernate, you're supposed to eat <br />yourself stupid.<br />I could deal with that too.<br /><br />When you're a girl bear, you birth your children <br />(who are the size of walnuts) while you're sleeping <br />and wake to practically grown, cute, cuddly cubs. <br />I could definitely deal with that.<br /><br />If you're mama bear, eveyone knows you mean business. <br />You swat anyone who bothers your cubs. If your cubs get<br /> out of line, you swat them too. <br /> I could deal with that.<br /><br />If you're a bear, your mate EXPECTS you to wake up growling.<br /> He EXPECTS that you will have hairy legs and excess body fat.<br /><br />Yup, gonna be a bear!Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-42808337526592313452008-10-13T10:22:00.000-07:002008-10-13T10:33:53.978-07:00Tag from Melissa1. Where is your cell phone? Pocket<br />2. Where is your significant other? Work<br />3. Your hair color? ?<br />4. Your mother? Friend<br />5. Your father? Kind<br />6. Your favorite thing? Family<br />7. Your dream last night? Forgotten<br />8. Your dream/goal? Perfection<br />9. The room you're in? Office<br />10. Your hobby? Cooking<br />11. Your fear? Rejection<br />12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Home<br />13. Where were you last night? Delivering cookies<br />14. What you're not? Patient<br />15. One of your wish-list items? Boots<br />16. Where you grew up? Everywhere<br />17. The last thing you ate? Rice<br />18. What are you wearing? lab coat<br />19. Your TV? unimportant<br />20. Your pet? Riley<br />21. Your computer? old<br />22. Your mood? Happy<br />23. Missing someone? Whit<br />24. Your car? Efficient<br />25. Something you're not wearing? toe-Ring<br />26. Favorite store? Costco<br />27. Your summer? Crazy<br />28. Love someone? Absolutely<br />29. Your favorite color? Green<br />30. When is the last time you laughed? Today<br />31. Last time you cried? Yesterday<br /><br /> Supposed to be one word answers. I tag Lyn, Aly, Brittany, AmandaLoquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6689204371023577564.post-48859880993036335192008-10-12T11:55:00.001-07:002008-10-12T11:55:25.421-07:00http://www.handbagplanet.com/<br /><br /><br />is giving away free bags! go there!Loquacious Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10673460275355204031noreply@blogger.com1