<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263</id><updated>2011-10-13T10:59:31.802-07:00</updated><category term='me'/><category term='Tula'/><category term='food'/><category term='spring'/><category term='grandparents'/><category term='family'/><category term='bert'/><category term='chat'/><category term='Indy'/><category term='flowers'/><category term='tv shows'/><category term='family archives'/><category term='robert plant'/><category term='GG'/><category term='tulip festival'/><category term='louise'/><category term='eric clapton'/><title type='text'>nick in the city</title><subtitle type='html'>I'm never leaving the Pacific Northwest!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-8524722109921274076</id><published>2008-07-24T12:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:25.082-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><title type='text'>My Blog About Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SIjWcyD-TGI/AAAAAAAAASA/heCIacw8OPQ/s1600-h/IMG_1455.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226663157526580322" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SIjWcyD-TGI/AAAAAAAAASA/heCIacw8OPQ/s400/IMG_1455.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know, I know - mea culpa, I haven't been blogging in forever.   I need to take my camera with me everywhere, and I need to figure out what I'm doing with this here blog.  I'm a blog junkie, and sometimes I feel like there's no way I can ever be as interesting or funny as some of the uber-talented bloggers out there are.  But you know, this is my blog, read it or don't, love it or not.  I need to start using it for things other than a spotlight of my photography skillz/someplace to say something cute and make it meaningful to myself.  And then maybe other people might READ it, but it's okay with me if it's only a place for me to get things off of my chest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this pic is of my and my friend Molly, who recently moved to California.  Doesn't she have a great smile?  I miss her.  I meant to write a post about her last month, but it seemed too heavy then.  Now I can just say I'm really glad we met and I'm sure if we are good about corresponding, we'll always be friends.  That's important to me, just like it's important that I remain close (or at least in touch) with the friends who have known me since way back when.  They are important people to me - they are the friends I have chosen to keep among the ones I weeded out for various reasons.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;THIS is the kind of stuff I want to talk about - the things that are important to me - my family, my friends, the God who made the universe and everything in it...hey, I'm a spiritual person, and I don't want to censor myself for the sake of being PC - not that I am going to drown anyone in Jesus.  Just I want to talk about him a little when I want to - it's a very cathartic relationship for me.  So even if I never mention his name again, there it is.  This is me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-8524722109921274076?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/8524722109921274076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=8524722109921274076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/8524722109921274076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/8524722109921274076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-blog-about-me.html' title='My Blog About Me'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SIjWcyD-TGI/AAAAAAAAASA/heCIacw8OPQ/s72-c/IMG_1455.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-685025066596066899</id><published>2008-06-25T15:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:25.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SGLBWckNxGI/AAAAAAAAAR4/CExpL_hPQmU/s1600-h/P1010825_0528.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215943909817828450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SGLBWckNxGI/AAAAAAAAAR4/CExpL_hPQmU/s400/P1010825_0528.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just wanted to say a quick hi, and leave you with this pretty flower - new additions to Family Archives coming this week (I hope!) :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-685025066596066899?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/685025066596066899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=685025066596066899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/685025066596066899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/685025066596066899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/06/just-wanted-to-say-quick-hi-and-leave.html' title=''/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SGLBWckNxGI/AAAAAAAAAR4/CExpL_hPQmU/s72-c/P1010825_0528.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-1966551605982928866</id><published>2008-06-23T12:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T12:51:20.191-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I swear, I am here!</title><content type='html'>OMG, peeps, it has been so long and I am sorry! I don't even have a pic for you today! Good news: we have had some sun, and the weather has been warmer. Bad news: my camera is trying to blink out on me - so I am praying like mad that it is just a temporary thing, and it will be acting like it's regular sweet and reliable self very soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unrelated: more additions to the good ol' Family Archives coming soon! Maybe this time the other side of the fam will get a little spotlight. They are interesting folks, I promise you will not be disappointed. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo!&lt;br /&gt;-N&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-1966551605982928866?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/1966551605982928866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=1966551605982928866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/1966551605982928866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/1966551605982928866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/06/omg-peeps-it-has-been-so-long-and-i-am.html' title='I swear, I am here!'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-8205270669845554249</id><published>2008-06-11T10:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:27.752-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG WHERE IS THE SUN?!?!?!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SFALrlUMWMI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/OlcxwKsrQyE/s1600-h/P1010790_0403.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210677612246751426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SFALrlUMWMI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/OlcxwKsrQyE/s400/P1010790_0403.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Peeps, I had to post some pics of the sun to remind myself it is really there, and that, yes, in fact, we HAVE seen it on several occasions this spring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SFALsEHU9SI/AAAAAAAAARA/wHwbkxKj9MM/s1600-h/P1010791_0404.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210677620514288930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SFALsEHU9SI/AAAAAAAAARA/wHwbkxKj9MM/s400/P1010791_0404.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Some of these were taken MONTHS ago, when we still believed that summer would arrive in its usual way, in its usual time frame...that happy, innocent time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SFALshLAf-I/AAAAAAAAARI/TcP_kU3-ULs/s1600-h/P1010797_0410.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210677628314353634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SFALshLAf-I/AAAAAAAAARI/TcP_kU3-ULs/s400/P1010797_0410.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Look, right here I am so hot, I am about to roll down the window, except that I already have my sun roof open!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SFALs_hdEWI/AAAAAAAAARQ/UgomH_4j_0E/s1600-h/P1010938_0589.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210677636461564258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SFALs_hdEWI/AAAAAAAAARQ/UgomH_4j_0E/s400/P1010938_0589.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The trees were feeling it, and opening up their leaves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SFALteMlpgI/AAAAAAAAARY/CeZGNUKIX_I/s1600-h/P1010962_0607.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210677644695545346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SFALteMlpgI/AAAAAAAAARY/CeZGNUKIX_I/s400/P1010962_0607.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And THIS day was freakin' HOT!!!   I have faith in you, sun, I know YOU WILL ARRIVE!   Pretty please, with sugar on it...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-8205270669845554249?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/8205270669845554249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=8205270669845554249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/8205270669845554249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/8205270669845554249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/06/omg-where-is-sun.html' title='OMG WHERE IS THE SUN?!?!?!?'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SFALrlUMWMI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/OlcxwKsrQyE/s72-c/P1010790_0403.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-6870545614842196798</id><published>2008-06-10T09:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:28.201-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Alec Baldwin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SE69IFcWYzI/AAAAAAAAAQU/x1ZCEwDwFtg/s1600-h/alec+baldwin+hot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210309765511930674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SE69IFcWYzI/AAAAAAAAAQU/x1ZCEwDwFtg/s400/alec+baldwin+hot.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So I have developed a crush - well, a crush I have felt a bit here and there before, when this guy was obviously a major hunk. Yes, Alec Baldwin, it's YOU I am talking about! Look at Alec right here - GORGEOUS HUNK!!!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SE69IXbrIII/AAAAAAAAAQc/o0UwE3xrh1M/s1600-h/alec+baldwin+semi+hot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210309770340933762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SE69IXbrIII/AAAAAAAAAQc/o0UwE3xrh1M/s400/alec+baldwin+semi+hot.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Gorgeous doesn't matter to me with Alec, though. Even though his eyes are beautiful, his mouth has that nice pout going on, he still has a really nice head of hair, and I could go on - all of these things MATTER NOT A TINY BIT!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SE69IlEP1ZI/AAAAAAAAAQk/-MErjV46J88/s1600-h/alec_baldwin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210309774000772498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SE69IlEP1ZI/AAAAAAAAAQk/-MErjV46J88/s400/alec_baldwin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; In fact, the older and more (pardon me Alec) out of shape he gets, the better I like him. Why?? Why?? I'LL TELL YOU WHY - the man is HILARIOUS and therefore I WANT TO HAVE HIS CHILDREN!!! Okay, MAYBE NOT SO MUCH, but Alec, I just want you to know that I think you are TOTALLY BRILLIANT, and if you ever wanted to hang out and maybe do your Marlon Brando or your Al Pacino, or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt; - Tracy Morgan impressions for me, well, let's just say I would be a MOST APPRECIATIVE AUDIENCE!!! Oh - and not in some crazy, stalker sort of way, I promise... no, honestly, I swear... But I love you much better now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;than&lt;/span&gt; when you were always playing the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hottie&lt;/span&gt; - you are quite the Renaissance Man - wait - Man of Parts? Man of Means? Man Oh Man!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo, Alec Baldwin!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-6870545614842196798?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/6870545614842196798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=6870545614842196798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/6870545614842196798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/6870545614842196798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-crush.html' title='Dear Alec Baldwin'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SE69IFcWYzI/AAAAAAAAAQU/x1ZCEwDwFtg/s72-c/alec+baldwin+hot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-3341015112824089489</id><published>2008-06-06T14:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T14:57:39.208-07:00</updated><title type='text'>post - no picture</title><content type='html'>I have found the BEST new website - and sorry, for those of you in my gmail address book, you have all been invited - totally by mistake, but so far turning out to be a good one. Anyway, it's called Goodreads.   I LOVE IT!!  Check it out if you get a chance...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-3341015112824089489?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/3341015112824089489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=3341015112824089489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/3341015112824089489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/3341015112824089489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/06/post-no-picture.html' title='post - no picture'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-4732715508757671982</id><published>2008-06-04T11:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:28.346-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>A Handsome Graduate</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SEbuhG_XkXI/AAAAAAAAAQM/zsUkALd6MLo/s1600-h/rob+&amp;amp;+nick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208112271680049522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SEbuhG_XkXI/AAAAAAAAAQM/zsUkALd6MLo/s320/rob+%26+nick.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Okay, I feel little bit bad about this picture - this handsome fellow next to me (way back last Christmas when I had long dark hair which I don't anymore, and that's a long story we don't need to get into right now, but let's just say I was tired of it and move ONWARD!) is my brother Rob. He's brother #2. And I cut out brother #3 from the picture, but that's not because he's not important (!) - just not to this entry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My handsome brother Rob is graduating from the University of Washington with a Master's Degree in Architecture. If I thought any ladies were reading this blog that WEREN'T related to me, I would also add that he is SINGLE!! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CONGRATULATIONS, ROB!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo&lt;br /&gt;your sister&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-4732715508757671982?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/4732715508757671982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=4732715508757671982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/4732715508757671982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/4732715508757671982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/06/handsome-graduate.html' title='A Handsome Graduate'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SEbuhG_XkXI/AAAAAAAAAQM/zsUkALd6MLo/s72-c/rob+%26+nick.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-3069553875190234260</id><published>2008-06-02T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:28.652-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='robert plant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eric clapton'/><title type='text'>Rock Love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SERQRm_XkUI/AAAAAAAAAP0/aK1zaSiJppE/s1600-h/eric_clapton.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207375332601467202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SERQRm_XkUI/AAAAAAAAAP0/aK1zaSiJppE/s320/eric_clapton.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm in love with this guy. Is that so wrong? Even though he's as old as my father, married to someone else (my age), obviously living somewhere I'm not...a girl can dream, can't she? Well, can't she?!?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SERQSW_XkVI/AAAAAAAAAP8/Yp0EFykJlTs/s1600-h/robert+plant.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207375345486369106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SERQSW_XkVI/AAAAAAAAAP8/Yp0EFykJlTs/s320/robert+plant.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; What about this one - again, almost as old as my father, but still pretty nice, although...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SERQS2_XkWI/AAAAAAAAAQE/UXgWo--VmE8/s1600-h/robert+plant+young.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207375354076303714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SERQS2_XkWI/AAAAAAAAAQE/UXgWo--VmE8/s320/robert+plant+young.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right HERE, he was BEYOND GORGEOUS. Never mind that, a. I was probably about 8 years old when this picture was taken, or b. he was a rock god anyway, so women were all over him, and who is to say he would have ever picked me among thousands, if I were even 10 or 12 years older? c. THIS IS BESIDE THE POINT! In my dream where he is serenading me with champagne in the bubble bath, we are completely alone. Oops, was that TMI?? - sorry. I'm just sayin'!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo Eric Clapton,&lt;br /&gt;xo Robert Plant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;N&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-3069553875190234260?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/3069553875190234260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=3069553875190234260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/3069553875190234260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/3069553875190234260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/06/random-rock-love.html' title='Rock Love.'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SERQRm_XkUI/AAAAAAAAAP0/aK1zaSiJppE/s72-c/eric_clapton.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-9136064101488813471</id><published>2008-05-30T16:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:28.802-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LOOK out, Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SECL2G_XkTI/AAAAAAAAAPs/wVlMnwp_2r8/s1600-h/Sac+Fair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206314930945888562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SECL2G_XkTI/AAAAAAAAAPs/wVlMnwp_2r8/s320/Sac+Fair.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; To my peeps - love ya, can't wait to see ya - only 6 more weeks and you'll be here, I'm totally excited!!! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you all (or 1, or 2 of you) have a great weekend!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;br /&gt;N&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-9136064101488813471?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/9136064101488813471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=9136064101488813471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/9136064101488813471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/9136064101488813471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/05/look-out-weekend.html' title='LOOK out, Weekend'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SECL2G_XkTI/AAAAAAAAAPs/wVlMnwp_2r8/s72-c/Sac+Fair.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-4528321376321503785</id><published>2008-05-29T15:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:29.451-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love My Macro Lens</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD8voG_XkNI/AAAAAAAAAO0/irOxsvSOck0/s1600-h/P1010920.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205932060381253842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD8voG_XkNI/AAAAAAAAAO0/irOxsvSOck0/s320/P1010920.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; These are the plants my bro and I bought our mom for Mother's Day. Nice, but somewhat boring, right? At least, I think so. Because when you are photographing flowers, I think that they look much, much more dramatic when they are close up, like this:&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD8voW_XkOI/AAAAAAAAAO8/zK2713aTmTQ/s1600-h/P1010953.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205932064676221154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD8voW_XkOI/AAAAAAAAAO8/zK2713aTmTQ/s320/P1010953.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD8vom_XkPI/AAAAAAAAAPE/whKe2d2K3k8/s1600-h/P1010954.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205932068971188466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD8vom_XkPI/AAAAAAAAAPE/whKe2d2K3k8/s320/P1010954.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD8vo2_XkQI/AAAAAAAAAPM/Z6c-vU2t9_w/s1600-h/P1010955.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205932073266155778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD8vo2_XkQI/AAAAAAAAAPM/Z6c-vU2t9_w/s320/P1010955.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD8vo2_XkRI/AAAAAAAAAPU/tMxxhUP_axM/s1600-h/P1010957.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205932073266155794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD8vo2_XkRI/AAAAAAAAAPU/tMxxhUP_axM/s320/P1010957.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not a professional - but my macro lens sho makes it seem like I am. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-4528321376321503785?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/4528321376321503785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=4528321376321503785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/4528321376321503785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/4528321376321503785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-love-my-macro-lens.html' title='I Love My Macro Lens'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD8voG_XkNI/AAAAAAAAAO0/irOxsvSOck0/s72-c/P1010920.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-5109350139236152691</id><published>2008-05-28T11:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:30.424-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='louise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family archives'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bert'/><title type='text'>Family Archives - The Courtship of Bert &amp; Louise</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2s9chr_xI/AAAAAAAAAOc/soJPtoi_7eQ/s1600-h/Bert+Louise+-+hug.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205506915939647250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2s9chr_xI/AAAAAAAAAOc/soJPtoi_7eQ/s320/Bert+Louise+-+hug.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So when Nick left off last time, Louise was working as a soda fountain girl in Winterset (?) Iowa, and on one particular day, in walks this handsome guy in overalls. He happens to be buddies with some of the fellas hanging out, drinking sodas, and he has eyes for the perky little miss full of banter behind the counter. Apparently she has eyes for him, too - because when her shift is over and several of the fellas offer to walk her home, she says to them, "Oh, Bert can walk me home," because he is obviously too shy to volunteer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2s98hr_yI/AAAAAAAAAOk/-Ip3FCtmmuU/s1600-h/Bert+suit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205506924529581858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2s98hr_yI/AAAAAAAAAOk/-Ip3FCtmmuU/s320/Bert+suit.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And history is made. In Louise's words, "He chased me until I caught him." Nick thinks that if she got a chance to see him in this suit before she caught him, she was probably wishing he would hurry up and cut to the chase!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2s-chr_zI/AAAAAAAAAOs/KWThdZFNcuM/s1600-h/Bert+standing+1934.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205506933119516466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2s-chr_zI/AAAAAAAAAOs/KWThdZFNcuM/s320/Bert+standing+1934.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 'Course, Bert is just as handsome in his regular clothes - check the belt buckle to the side, ladies! Bert and Louise will court for four years before they are married - because of the depression, there is oviously a lack of any substantial employment. Bert eventually goes to school to learn metallurgy, gets a good job, and he and Louise are able to be married.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2r4shr_oI/AAAAAAAAANU/-cpBZeKGMps/s1600-h/Louise+wall+sitting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205505734823640706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2r4shr_oI/AAAAAAAAANU/-cpBZeKGMps/s320/Louise+wall+sitting.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Meanwhile, they have lots of outings....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2r48hr_pI/AAAAAAAAANc/the-Oefx8mw/s1600-h/Bert-+bird+sanctuary.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205505739118608018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2r48hr_pI/AAAAAAAAANc/the-Oefx8mw/s320/Bert-+bird+sanctuary.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Bert and Louise are nature lovers. And apparent outlaws. Nick thinks it was probably this other gal's idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2r48hr_qI/AAAAAAAAANk/704Arw34iq8/s1600-h/Bert+&amp;amp;+friend+-+car.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205505739118608034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2r48hr_qI/AAAAAAAAANk/704Arw34iq8/s320/Bert+%26+friend+-+car.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Even though a fella might not have much cash, he can still impress the ladies with a spiffy outfit and a roadster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2r5Mhr_rI/AAAAAAAAANs/52jS2UVNO5I/s1600-h/Bert+&amp;amp;+friend+car2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205505743413575346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2r5Mhr_rI/AAAAAAAAANs/52jS2UVNO5I/s320/Bert+%26+friend+car2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Okay, Bert, you don't have to work so hard...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2r5Mhr_sI/AAAAAAAAAN0/Z8XCZaVClXg/s1600-h/Bert+&amp;amp;+Louise+car.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205505743413575362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2r5Mhr_sI/AAAAAAAAAN0/Z8XCZaVClXg/s320/Bert+%26+Louise+car.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; You've already got your girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-5109350139236152691?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/5109350139236152691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=5109350139236152691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/5109350139236152691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/5109350139236152691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/05/family-archives-courtship-of-bert.html' title='Family Archives - The Courtship of Bert &amp; Louise'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SD2s9chr_xI/AAAAAAAAAOc/soJPtoi_7eQ/s72-c/Bert+Louise+-+hug.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-2812880290329985322</id><published>2008-05-27T16:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:31.204-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Indy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tula'/><title type='text'>Tula and Indy - Intrepid Hunters</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDydlchr_jI/AAAAAAAAAMs/1guWWTRyDBE/s1600-h/P1010937.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205208535971659314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDydlchr_jI/AAAAAAAAAMs/1guWWTRyDBE/s320/P1010937.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Today we track the scent of the other dogs in our neighborhood. These bushes hold many secrets - secrets that only we dogs can detect. We work the scent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDydl8hr_kI/AAAAAAAAAM0/xwHTn7dcCIE/s1600-h/P1010941.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205208544561593922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDydl8hr_kI/AAAAAAAAAM0/xwHTn7dcCIE/s320/P1010941.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We move quickly when we sense that the leash is held only loosely. There might be a fleeting chance of freedom,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDydmMhr_lI/AAAAAAAAAM8/w1-pQrGRDl8/s1600-h/P1010943.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205208548856561234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDydmMhr_lI/AAAAAAAAAM8/w1-pQrGRDl8/s320/P1010943.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; when we can RUN LIKE THE GAZELLE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDydmchr_mI/AAAAAAAAANE/RYUGnY6e3d0/s1600-h/P1010944.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205208553151528546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDydmchr_mI/AAAAAAAAANE/RYUGnY6e3d0/s320/P1010944.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; In the tall grass we call a brief halt. Grass is our lifeline in the jungle - we eat it to calm our nerves and our bellies. We will leave this area only when we are satiated, or something calls irresistably to our wild natures. Then we must run again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDydmshr_nI/AAAAAAAAANM/oBZ07Q-DrhE/s1600-h/P1010948.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205208557446495858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDydmshr_nI/AAAAAAAAANM/oBZ07Q-DrhE/s320/P1010948.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We are proud hunters - and when we get home, we would like another snack, please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-2812880290329985322?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/2812880290329985322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=2812880290329985322' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/2812880290329985322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/2812880290329985322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/05/tula-and-indy-intrepid-hunters.html' title='Tula and Indy - Intrepid Hunters'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDydlchr_jI/AAAAAAAAAMs/1guWWTRyDBE/s72-c/P1010937.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-5830314585326997033</id><published>2008-05-27T16:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:32.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Antiquing, and the Holiday weekend, or I Heart Dixie Dogwood</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDyW68hr_hI/AAAAAAAAAMc/jEIPW7-LQP0/s1600-h/P1010981.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205201208757452306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDyW68hr_hI/AAAAAAAAAMc/jEIPW7-LQP0/s320/P1010981.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This weekend my mother and I went antique shopping in the town of Snohomish, about 30 minutes north of where we live, and it was a great time. I was so excited to find these pieces! This stuff is called Dixie Dogwood, and I am insane for it. My grandma Louise used to have these, and I don't remember eating on them myself (the grandkids usually ate off of paper plates, natch), I REMEMBER them, and I'm FINDING them in different antique stores, and I'm LOVING it!! :) That's the kind of stuff I like to go antiquing for, the stuff I remember and want to have again, don't you think that's the most fun?? I totally do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, then I took a bunch of pictures of THESE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDyWu8hr_cI/AAAAAAAAAL0/8e6nd8-UPzk/s1600-h/P1010949.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205201002599022018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDyWu8hr_cI/AAAAAAAAAL0/8e6nd8-UPzk/s320/P1010949.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and THESE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDyWvchr_dI/AAAAAAAAAL8/NQjZEGpsIzo/s1600-h/P1010960.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205201011188956626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDyWvchr_dI/AAAAAAAAAL8/NQjZEGpsIzo/s320/P1010960.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and THESE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDyWvchr_eI/AAAAAAAAAME/vZc67bw5Jkw/s1600-h/P1010964.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205201011188956642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDyWvchr_eI/AAAAAAAAAME/vZc67bw5Jkw/s320/P1010964.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and you get the picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDyWvshr_fI/AAAAAAAAAMM/kVLJFEa6Dso/s1600-h/P1010967.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205201015483923954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDyWvshr_fI/AAAAAAAAAMM/kVLJFEa6Dso/s320/P1010967.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Actually, these are for my friend Janiene, and I hope she likes them!! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDyWvshr_gI/AAAAAAAAAMU/5FWclFef8TA/s1600-h/P1010970.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205201015483923970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDyWvshr_gI/AAAAAAAAAMU/5FWclFef8TA/s320/P1010970.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause I see them everywhwere in the spring/summer, and I never really appreciated them myself, until getting up close and personal for these pics. So thanks, Neen! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;xo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;N&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-5830314585326997033?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/5830314585326997033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=5830314585326997033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/5830314585326997033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/5830314585326997033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/05/antiquing-and-holiday-weekend-or-i.html' title='Antiquing, and the Holiday weekend, or I Heart Dixie Dogwood'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDyW68hr_hI/AAAAAAAAAMc/jEIPW7-LQP0/s72-c/P1010981.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-628985273731585984</id><published>2008-05-22T08:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:32.858-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GG'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family archives'/><title type='text'>Family Archives - Edith (GG)  Shutt Young</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDWXFshr_ZI/AAAAAAAAALc/3n99W25JOfI/s1600-h/NE5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203231068604071314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDWXFshr_ZI/AAAAAAAAALc/3n99W25JOfI/s320/NE5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually do these posts in third person, but this one is a special post, so please forgive the apparent eccentricity.  This is my GG, the way she looked when I knew her. She is sitting outside my grandparents' motel, and that's my grandpa in the distance with his head cut off. BTW, behind him is the famous pop machine. But I digress. This was the GG I knew: endlessly kind and patient, she was always either holding me in her lap, reading me a book, listening to me chatter away, or letting me bake her a cherry cake, stirring it up in my grandma's red bowl (red was my favorite color - hence the cherry cake - there was no actual batter used or harmed in the making of said cherry cake). She wrote my name in red ink in all of my Little Golden Books. She let me paint my fingernails with her red polish, and when I made a mess and my mom got mad, she defended me. She was my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDWWl8hr_TI/AAAAAAAAAKs/mz_7x7-5R8c/s1600-h/NE1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203230523143224626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDWWl8hr_TI/AAAAAAAAAKs/mz_7x7-5R8c/s320/NE1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is my GG on the right, and her older sister, Nida, on the left. My GG was a very stylish lady. I think Nida was, also. My GG could make a dress for herself without a pattern. She could crochet, embroider and quilt, and wring a chicken's neck, pluck all the feathers, and cook it for dinner. She was a wonderful baker, and famous for her Divinity and her fudge. I don't know what she is looking at here, maybe she is just posing - I don't think she was married yet. Maybe Elmer is the one with the camera - or maybe her brother in law, Nida's husband Jim, is taking the picture. Maybe Edith (GG) is dressed up to go on a trip somewhere, or going to some event - maybe a date with Elmer. Did she have other boyfriends before Elmer? I was too little to ask, and she died when I was 4. I wish I could know these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDWWmchr_UI/AAAAAAAAAK0/jGlZCPuqf1w/s1600-h/NE2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203230531733159234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDWWmchr_UI/AAAAAAAAAK0/jGlZCPuqf1w/s320/NE2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here are the three sisters together: Lulu, the second oldest, on the left, GG (Edith) in the middle, and Nida on the right. I love their skirts, and I think my GG is the prettiest of the three. They have two older half sisters, one of whom died when 2 or 3, along with the mother. There is a brother older than Nida, and four other brothers - two between Lulu and Edith, and two after Edith. Their mother dies in childbirth with the last boy, and their father dies when Edith is 10. The oldest half sister has married and moved away by then, so I'm pretty sure Nida sort of raises the younger kids. Nida and her husband have only one child, Katherine - but I'm not sure they really are sad about that, given all Nida's younger siblings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDWWnMhr_VI/AAAAAAAAAK8/HKzcmiYifKw/s1600-h/NE3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203230544618061138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDWWnMhr_VI/AAAAAAAAAK8/HKzcmiYifKw/s320/NE3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here are Edith and Bert again, and she has her book with her - probably the same one I would so like to know about. She never sat for a portrait, so this is the best picture I have of her face when she was young. She looks a lot like her mother, whose name was Phebe Catherine Fisher Shutt. And my grandpa and my mother both look a lot like Edith. I wish we could see this in color, because the yard really looks dead, doesn't it? And I wonder why my grandpa is sitting there - is he having a time out, or did he just want to sit with his mommy for a minute or two?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDWWnMhr_WI/AAAAAAAAALE/-qNnQTNHKpA/s1600-h/NE6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203230544618061154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDWWnMhr_WI/AAAAAAAAALE/-qNnQTNHKpA/s320/NE6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here are Elmer and Edith and their unknown furry companion during WWII, when they are living in Washington State, and Elmer is working on an army base as an airplane mechanic instructor. Apparently they like it here, only - "it rains too GD much!", to quote my GG. So they move back home to Nebraska after the war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDWWnshr_XI/AAAAAAAAALM/f6S8zckZ-3M/s1600-h/NE4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203230553207995762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDWWnshr_XI/AAAAAAAAALM/f6S8zckZ-3M/s320/NE4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is taken right before Grandpa Elmer dies, in 1961. At this time, they are living in their own house, although earlier they had been sharing their house with my grandparents and their children - my aunt, my mom, and my uncle. GG is the kind of grandma who sits on the floor and lets the girls brush her long, long hair, and makes toast that is so toasted it is almost burnt, and all the kids in the neighborhood come around asking for a piece. She makes everything from scratch - probably the reason her arms still look so taut - she is in the kitchen, stirring and beating and lifting things, all day long. She does all this and more with love, and all of us who knew her miss her very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-628985273731585984?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/628985273731585984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=628985273731585984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/628985273731585984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/628985273731585984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/05/family-archives-edith-gg-young.html' title='Family Archives - Edith (GG)  Shutt Young'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDWXFshr_ZI/AAAAAAAAALc/3n99W25JOfI/s72-c/NE5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-155068399267383042</id><published>2008-05-21T08:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:35.639-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tv shows'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grandparents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Random.  My Grandparents' House</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRel_8n-WI/AAAAAAAAAKc/hjYuMxZoI7Y/s1600-h/Monkees1967.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202887476433647970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRel_8n-WI/AAAAAAAAAKc/hjYuMxZoI7Y/s320/Monkees1967.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Okay, so I know I was going to post about my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;GG&lt;/span&gt; today, but instead I'm going to talk about spending time at my Grandparents' house. They actually owned a &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;motel&lt;/span&gt; in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Creston&lt;/span&gt;, Iowa, and we lived not far away, and got to visit with them almost every day. They had a TV in their Unit #1, which opened right off of the office, where I could go to watch my shows if the grownups were watching something else.&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Monkees&lt;/span&gt; was one of my Faves - and no, my crush was NOT on Davy Jones, it was on &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Peter &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Tork&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Look at him here - such a hottie!! He was usually the goofy one, but not in this pic - hey!! :) That's one cutie patootie!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRel_8n-XI/AAAAAAAAAKk/E66B5KSlqwA/s1600-h/partridge+family.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202887476433647986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRel_8n-XI/AAAAAAAAAKk/E66B5KSlqwA/s320/partridge+family.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Dear &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;David &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Cassidy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, if only we could bring back your youth and make you about 7 inches taller, and make it that somehow we would be in the same place at the same time, and meet and fall in love, I would be all over that. You were my very first crush! I wanted to marry you at age 3. I also thought Lori was really pretty, but the I heard she hooked up with my man while they were filming the series and then I was through with Susan &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Dey&lt;/span&gt;. HA! Just kidding, my peeps!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRdnf8n-SI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/nfp1hKA3gKw/s1600-h/3242516.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202886402691823906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRdnf8n-SI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/nfp1hKA3gKw/s320/3242516.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Now of these boys, I don't remember any crushes. By the time I was watching their re-runs on TV, the oldest one was married to Katie and they had triplets. And I don't remember his name - wait, was it Robbie? And Dodie was Steve Douglas's little stepdaughter,brought in to keep the cute factor going because Ernie and Chip were getting too old. I later saw really old reruns of the show and they did the same thing when Chip got too old - they adopted Ernie. Then there was a whole other older brother named Mike who disappeared from the show. Scary!&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRdnv8n-TI/AAAAAAAAAKE/76WnFHeWVsA/s1600-h/ThatGirl_S1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202886406986791218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRdnv8n-TI/AAAAAAAAAKE/76WnFHeWVsA/s320/ThatGirl_S1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I LOVED this show - I thought Marlo Thomas was so pretty and I loved her hair, and mostly what I remember is she had that kite with her face on it in the opening credits, and I really liked it. Do I remember anything else about the show? Just that she had a boyfriend named Don, but she was a single girl. And the kite. Okay, maybe it was all about the kite. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRdn_8n-UI/AAAAAAAAAKM/y-rAHyD_VSA/s1600-h/familyaffair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202886411281758530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRdn_8n-UI/AAAAAAAAAKM/y-rAHyD_VSA/s320/familyaffair.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; *Ah* Family Affair. One of my very favorite shows ever! I wanted an Uncle Bill and a Mr. French - and a Mrs. Beasley doll, but I never got one and I'm glad now, she was NOT cute! And I got my first perm (a home perm - a &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Toni&lt;/span&gt;, remember those?) at age 5, and I wanted it so I could have curly pigtails like Buffy. Then Buffy died from an overdose the next year, and it was hard for me to think she was so much older, because in the reruns she was not that much older than I was - but then, Jody was on Sigmund and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Sea Monsters&lt;/span&gt; (another great show - "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Shello&lt;/span&gt;?" okay, I know, I know - ONWARD), and he was a teenager. So anyway, Buffy died young, and I remember that made me sad. I also thought Cissy looked maybe like Daphne on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Scooby&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Doo&lt;/span&gt; might look if she were a real girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRdn_8n-VI/AAAAAAAAAKU/Z0a1tVWGkCg/s1600-h/courtship+of+eddies+father.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202886411281758546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRdn_8n-VI/AAAAAAAAAKU/Z0a1tVWGkCg/s320/courtship+of+eddies+father.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Courtship of Eddie's Father - another great one - I loved Bill &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Bixby&lt;/span&gt; so much in this I thought really fondly of him and wrote him a letter before he died of prostate cancer. I am sad he is gone - and why did he get a nose job later? Don't you think he has a perfectly nice nose? I think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRbfP8n-NI/AAAAAAAAAJU/p9IOeNcAz0A/s1600-h/tootsie_rolls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202884061934647506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRbfP8n-NI/AAAAAAAAAJU/p9IOeNcAz0A/s320/tootsie_rolls.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So these now are the foods I learned to like at my Grandparents' house (not that that was a difficult task with Tootsie Rolls!). The other candies, which I didn't get pictures of, were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Brach's&lt;/span&gt; Butterscotch and Cinnamon hard candies. I think these were candies that my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;GG&lt;/span&gt; liked. She lived with my grandparents until I was maybe 4, then she moved into a nursing home, and she had a bag of butterscotch candies in her bedside drawer, and I was allowed to have one or maybe two when we visited her. Such a sweet lady - more on her tomorrow, I promise! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, my grandma had tootsie rolls in a drawer in the kitchen. I think I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;snuck&lt;/span&gt; them sometimes - well, I'm pretty sure I did sneak them sometimes - okay, YES, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;snuck&lt;/span&gt; them sometimes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRbfv8n-OI/AAAAAAAAAJc/4NJpvHQ5mVs/s1600-h/American_cheese.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202884070524582114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRbfv8n-OI/AAAAAAAAAJc/4NJpvHQ5mVs/s320/American_cheese.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Mmmmmm&lt;/span&gt; - Kraft American cheese, cold out of the fridge - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;nuff&lt;/span&gt; said! I have an Australian friend who thought this was possibly the grossest cheese ever - kind of like rubber he thought. Hey, they guy eats EVERYTHING with "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;tomahto&lt;/span&gt; sauce" - or ketchup, as we say in AMERICAN English. So what does he know?? AUSTRALIANS! I'm just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;sayin&lt;/span&gt;'! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRbf_8n-PI/AAAAAAAAAJk/DmC_ndpbnX4/s1600-h/Captain%20Kangaroo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202884074819549426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRbf_8n-PI/AAAAAAAAAJk/DmC_ndpbnX4/s320/Captain%2520Kangaroo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Okay, I know I got some foods mixed in with my media - this is the kiddie stuff - Captain Kangaroo - a classic! I loved Mr. Green Jeans, and the naughty Mr. Moose, who always dropped ping pong balls on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;everybody's&lt;/span&gt; head. Also I got to meet Captain Kangaroo once when we lived in Minneapolis - he signed a picture like this for me, too. He was the first celebrity I ever had up on my wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRbgP8n-QI/AAAAAAAAAJs/j87cEzAgum0/s1600-h/floppybw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202884079114516738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRbgP8n-QI/AAAAAAAAAJs/j87cEzAgum0/s320/floppybw.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The Floppy Show. It was on every noon, and sometimes I got to watch it, but I had to ask. I would say, "Can I watch the Floppy Show?" and my grandpa would say, "What? The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;FLOOPY&lt;/span&gt; Show?" and I would say, "No, FLOPPY!" and we would go back and forth like that a few times, cause that's the way we rolled. On the Floppy Show they showed cartoons like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRbg_8n-RI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/mYk6S1QzYmI/s1600-h/LooneyTunes1-758787.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202884091999418642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRbg_8n-RI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/mYk6S1QzYmI/s320/LooneyTunes1-758787.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned so much of 1940's (and later) culture from these cartoons! And my grandpa knew all of the songs, like "The Blues in the Night". He loved music. He was a music lover. And like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaw_8n-II/AAAAAAAAAIs/DPDtqHkQn10/s1600-h/graham+crackers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202883267365697666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaw_8n-II/AAAAAAAAAIs/DPDtqHkQn10/s320/graham+crackers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture is NOT the way we made graham cracker cookies! We made them with vanilla frosting - either like below, or my mom would make it from scratch. Peeps, these are heavenly things! Especially if you let them sit out awhile, and the graham crackers absorb moisture from the frosting and get all soft - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;oo&lt;/span&gt; la la!! &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaxP8n-JI/AAAAAAAAAI0/iuxJyimAUoI/s1600-h/vanilla+frosting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202883271660664978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaxP8n-JI/AAAAAAAAAI0/iuxJyimAUoI/s320/vanilla+frosting.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaxP8n-KI/AAAAAAAAAI8/K366AQrQQ8Q/s1600-h/oyster+crackers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202883271660664994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaxP8n-KI/AAAAAAAAAI8/K366AQrQQ8Q/s320/oyster+crackers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Oyster crackers. Down in the bottom cupboards in my grandma's kitchen were things like this. I spent a lot of time inspecting these cupboards. There were also yucky things like cans of deviled ham, or tuna fish. But I liked the little devil-man and the beautiful mermaid on the cans - I liked the mermaid's commercial, too. Anyway, I could have these crackers in a little peach lustre Fire King ramekin. But not more than one ramekin full!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaxf8n-LI/AAAAAAAAAJE/mtjFInwT2dw/s1600-h/frostie+root+beer.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202883275955632306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaxf8n-LI/AAAAAAAAAJE/mtjFInwT2dw/s320/frostie+root+beer.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was the root beer that was stocked in the pop machine right outside the motel's front door. You were only allowed one pop per day, but I think my cousins may have bent that rule when they visited. :) Now I say soda instead of pop, because I am a west coast girl - how did that happen?? Funny. Anyway, this is the &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;BEST&lt;/span&gt; root beer I have &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;EVER&lt;/span&gt; tasted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRax_8n-MI/AAAAAAAAAJM/qnxly1nXciI/s1600-h/baby+burger.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202883284545566914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRax_8n-MI/AAAAAAAAAJM/qnxly1nXciI/s320/baby+burger.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmmm...I wish A &amp;amp; W still made baby burgers. I had to have mine plain, no ketchup or mustard - and I still like burgers that way from McDonald's - with cheese and nothing else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaWv8n-DI/AAAAAAAAAIE/rdqenj9e6rM/s1600-h/bran+flakes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202882816394131506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaWv8n-DI/AAAAAAAAAIE/rdqenj9e6rM/s320/bran+flakes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My grandpa taught me to eat this cereal. Back then it was 40% Bran Flakes. He would say, "Hey, are you eating my cereal?!?!" probably to get me to eat it. Well played, Grandpa, well played. I still love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaXP8n-EI/AAAAAAAAAIM/MRSH5ZjI_b4/s1600-h/Jif.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202882824984066114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaXP8n-EI/AAAAAAAAAIM/MRSH5ZjI_b4/s320/Jif.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Creamy Jif peanut butter. Morning, noon, and night. Used to be the only sammie I would eat. Still awful tasty! I know, it's not organic. Even though most of the things I eat nowadays ARE organic, this is still the BEST peanut butter, in my humble opinion!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaXf8n-FI/AAAAAAAAAIU/c29Tjg_qBCo/s1600-h/775140419_4bb7a07f95.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202882829279033426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaXf8n-FI/AAAAAAAAAIU/c29Tjg_qBCo/s320/775140419_4bb7a07f95.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I do not know if they still make this bread since I don't live in the midwest anymore, but man - I used to love to eat it all by itself, and I used to bury my nose in a piece of it and suck in the wonderful bread smell. I used to have quite a sick relationship with white bread. Okay, that sounds bad - I mean, I ate it a LOT - just plain. Used to sneak it, and ruin my dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaX_8n-GI/AAAAAAAAAIc/DL2-mWCBng0/s1600-h/515334801_e0ad6f1615.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202882837868968034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaX_8n-GI/AAAAAAAAAIc/DL2-mWCBng0/s320/515334801_e0ad6f1615.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Blackberry jam (not the weird apparent maple syrup on the plate - what's up with that?!?!) - I was a grape jelly girl until I tried you, blackberry jam. And I didn't want to try you, but my grandpa persuaded me. Now I am true only to you, blackberry jam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaYP8n-HI/AAAAAAAAAIk/iQJlJtjxMNw/s1600-h/spag54a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202882842163935346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRaYP8n-HI/AAAAAAAAAIk/iQJlJtjxMNw/s320/spag54a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Couldn't finish without this one. See how much that boy is loving his Franco-American spaghetti? I'm just sayin'!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*DISCLAIMER* I just want to say, in case anyone OTHER than my family happens to read this blog and freak out, that I &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;do not&lt;/span&gt; eat any of this stuff anymore, with the exception of blackberry jam and Jif Peanut butter, okay? &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;xo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;N&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-155068399267383042?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/155068399267383042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=155068399267383042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/155068399267383042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/155068399267383042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/05/random-my-grandparents-house.html' title='Random.  My Grandparents&apos; House'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDRel_8n-WI/AAAAAAAAAKc/hjYuMxZoI7Y/s72-c/Monkees1967.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-6858702284057302242</id><published>2008-05-20T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:37.972-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family archives'/><title type='text'>Family Archives - More Pics, Peeps!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMGZv8n-AI/AAAAAAAAAHs/i_LCulG0m_Y/s1600-h/Louise,+Leo,+Nellie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202509033980295170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMGZv8n-AI/AAAAAAAAAHs/i_LCulG0m_Y/s320/Louise,+Leo,+Nellie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is a pic of Louise, Leo and Nellie, Leo's second wife. She was actually a very nice lady, despite being such a &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;hussy&lt;/span&gt; as to marry Nick's great-grandfather within a year of his first wife's death. Nick's mom knew her as &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Grandma&lt;/span&gt;, and wasn't told anything to the contrary about their relationship until she was older. Nick's Grandma Louise did not like to talk about her life before she met Bert, even though it was an exciting life - it was a very tough life, and there are whole chunks missing from any narrative Louise ever gives to any of the younger generation. Even though they beg! Not really. Nick does know a gross fact - Louise used to eat Franco-American spaghetti straight from the can, on a piece of bread, when she got home from school (depression times, remember - anything tastes good when you don't have a lot). Nick knows people think this is gross, because Nick used to eat Franco-American spaghetti straight from the can, minus the bread, and she has HEARD it is gross from MANY PEOPLE. Nick &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;NO LONGER&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;DOES THIS, OKAY&lt;/span&gt;?? But now you all know where she got the idea from! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMGav8n-BI/AAAAAAAAAH0/I0jNX65ACKY/s1600-h/Louise+and+cousin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202509051160164370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMGav8n-BI/AAAAAAAAAH0/I0jNX65ACKY/s320/Louise+and+cousin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is Louise with her cousin (Paul and Lillian's daughter, whose name escapes Nick at the moment). Nick has always loved this picture. The scanner did a horrible job picking it out, but Louise has her hair in braids. And Nick wants this doll, but she has another one that belonged to Louise that is even prettier, so that's okay. Do we love Louise's shoes, or what?? &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMGa_8n-CI/AAAAAAAAAH8/x59J9Xrh-sQ/s1600-h/Louise+crouching.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202509055455131682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMGa_8n-CI/AAAAAAAAAH8/x59J9Xrh-sQ/s320/Louise+crouching.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Louise is quite a tomboy, and this picture of her in pants makes Nick think that inclination started very early. Later she becomes a really good baseball player - good enough to play with the boys in the neighborhood and hold her own. She owned a red baseball glove that Nick's brother #2 has now - &lt;div&gt;anyway, Nick loves this picture, too - she thinks her Grandma Louise was a pretty cute little thing!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMFUv8n97I/AAAAAAAAAHE/t1SQFc9xcJY/s1600-h/Bert+sailor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202507848569321394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMFUv8n97I/AAAAAAAAAHE/t1SQFc9xcJY/s320/Bert+sailor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is Bert at about 4 years old. He is SUCH a cute boy, don't you think?? He has beautiful big blue eyes that Nick wishes she had inherited. Nick inherited her father's color instead, and she &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;tries&lt;/span&gt; to be okay with that. Nick's Grandpa Bert died when Nick was 20, so she doesn't know as much about his life as she does about Grandma Louise's. Nick was not yet into pestering people over an over until they told all about their past, back then. Nick was way, way into &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;herself&lt;/span&gt; and other &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;bad things&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;people&lt;/span&gt; at that time. Nick is very sorry, and could she just sit down with Grandpa Bert once and talk about his life growing up? Just once, pretty please? &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Rats&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMFU_8n98I/AAAAAAAAAHM/1o3dsiE7ybc/s1600-h/Bert+puppy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202507852864288706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMFU_8n98I/AAAAAAAAAHM/1o3dsiE7ybc/s320/Bert+puppy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is Bert with his puppy, and Nick really likes to think it is the famous wolf pup. Grandpa told Nick a story once about the wolf pup, something about sliding downhill (sledding, maybe), and something happened and something happened after that. Nick was a good listener when she was little, no?!?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMFVf8n99I/AAAAAAAAAHU/wUDzoaQonqg/s1600-h/Bert+baby+hat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202507861454223314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMFVf8n99I/AAAAAAAAAHU/wUDzoaQonqg/s320/Bert+baby+hat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; These two are again of Grandpa Bert as a baby - he is just so darn cute, Nick can't resist putting them in here. There is another pic that Nick has which is sadly damaged, which shows baby Bert in the doctor's satchel. Yes, peeps, Bert was born way bacy when people still drove horses instead of cars, and the doctor used to make house calls! And this was in 1915! Crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMFVv8n9-I/AAAAAAAAAHc/tMG5AFE7eps/s1600-h/Bert.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202507865749190626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMFVv8n9-I/AAAAAAAAAHc/tMG5AFE7eps/s320/Bert.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMFV_8n9_I/AAAAAAAAAHk/wFm96hct8fY/s1600-h/Louise,+Leo,+Nellie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202507870044157938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMFV_8n9_I/AAAAAAAAAHk/wFm96hct8fY/s320/Louise,+Leo,+Nellie.jpg" width="1" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Bert and some of his buddies. He looks like kind of a rascal, doesn't he? His family life is much more stable than Louise's - his parents have a good marriage. Although there IS the incident where Edith cracks a bowl of mashed potatoes over Elmer's head to teach him a lesson for complaining about her cooking. Nick really likes this story - go, Edith!! Now that Nick thinks about it, she has heard that Elmer was a little grumpy, maybe a bit hard to live with. But an excellent mechanic! Really, good with any sort of tool. He teaches Bert a lot about tools. Bert had some tools in his toolbox that Nick doesn't even know the use for!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The girl on the far left is Bert's cousin, Katherine. They are about a year apart in age. Even though Katherine's mother, Nida, is 10 years older than Edith, they are very close, and live near to each other for most of their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDME3P8n92I/AAAAAAAAAGc/sFWKo83iWAU/s1600-h/Bert+watermelon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202507341763180386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDME3P8n92I/AAAAAAAAAGc/sFWKo83iWAU/s320/Bert+watermelon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is Bert on his wagon. Nick &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;falls in love&lt;/span&gt; with Bert in every picture, every time. Cause he is just so darn cute!!! &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDME3f8n93I/AAAAAAAAAGk/3xlnpD7uhwg/s1600-h/Bert+wagon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202507346058147698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDME3f8n93I/AAAAAAAAAGk/3xlnpD7uhwg/s320/Bert+wagon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is Bert in a George Washington-type pose, but that is not a cherry tree. Nick hopes not! Maybe Bert is really channeling Abraham Lincoln - or maybe he is just really doing his chores. Nick prefers a presidential reference, personally - just for the spice of it!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDME3v8n94I/AAAAAAAAAGs/gUlEP0rDO3Q/s1600-h/Bert+woodcutter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202507350353115010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDME3v8n94I/AAAAAAAAAGs/gUlEP0rDO3Q/s320/Bert+woodcutter.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we have Edith and Bert - the caption says "waiting for the Mitchell to start" - remember what Nick said earlier about Elmer being an &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;excellent mechanic&lt;/span&gt;? :) Nick is also digging Edith's outfit, especially the hat, and wondering if the family is maybe going camping or something? Or maybe a family trip - maybe to visit relatives somewhere? Maybe the hat is to help ward off sun and bugs and things - Nick is pretty sure Edith's hair is really long. Nick wonders where people go camping in Iowa, anyway?&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDME4P8n95I/AAAAAAAAAG0/6_Yo919D0So/s1600-h/Edith+Bert+&amp;amp;+Mitchell.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202507358943049618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDME4P8n95I/AAAAAAAAAG0/6_Yo919D0So/s320/Edith+Bert+%26+Mitchell.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is Edith reading, and Nick has always wondered what the book is. Tomorrow Nick is going to tell a little backstory about Edith's family - but right now, Nick is going to enjoy this picture, another one of her favorites. Have a great day, peeps!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;xo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;N&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDME4f8n96I/AAAAAAAAAG8/05OT139F0dU/s1600-h/Edith+reading.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202507363238016930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDME4f8n96I/AAAAAAAAAG8/05OT139F0dU/s320/Edith+reading.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-6858702284057302242?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/6858702284057302242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=6858702284057302242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/6858702284057302242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/6858702284057302242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/05/this-is-pic-of-louise-leo-and-nellie.html' title='Family Archives - More Pics, Peeps!!'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMGZv8n-AI/AAAAAAAAAHs/i_LCulG0m_Y/s72-c/Louise,+Leo,+Nellie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-7519767534804944785</id><published>2008-05-20T09:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:38.568-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family archives'/><title type='text'>The famous promised pics!</title><content type='html'>Nick knows these look tiny, but you can click on any pic to enlarge it - the one below is Esther &amp;amp; Leo in his Army uniform.  Nick thinks they probably have a lot of fun when things are going well, there are many photos where they are laughing and hugging each other.  Esther is quite a &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;sharp&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;dresser&lt;/span&gt;, no? &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDL_9_8n9eI/AAAAAAAAADc/SbKSduD-nBI/s1600-h/Eshter+&amp;amp;+Leo+Uniform.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202501960169158114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDL_9_8n9eI/AAAAAAAAADc/SbKSduD-nBI/s320/Eshter+%26+Leo+Uniform.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Leo and Esther in love.  Nick wonders about the dynamics of this relationship.  Obviously, there is a lot of affection here - Nick thinks these two had some fiery tempers and maybe weren't well suited for marriage to one another.  Also, another wonderment, Leo is at one time (when he goes into the army) an auto salesman, yet ends up in constuction.  Wait, that sounds like Nick's brother #3!  A really good schmoozer, who likes to work outdoors, rather than in an office.  (He's single, peeps, btw! - just sayin')&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDL_-_8n9fI/AAAAAAAAADk/IfpxyxDA-SM/s1600-h/Leo+&amp;amp;+Esther_Page_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202501977349027314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDL_-_8n9fI/AAAAAAAAADk/IfpxyxDA-SM/s320/Leo+%26+Esther_Page_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;See how they are??  Maybe for the cameras only? - no, they are having a great time together!  Sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDL__f8n9gI/AAAAAAAAADs/xenFFQXFW-I/s1600-h/Esther+&amp;amp;+Leo+hug.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202501985938961922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDL__f8n9gI/AAAAAAAAADs/xenFFQXFW-I/s320/Esther+%26+Leo+hug.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Eshter in a quite fancy dress - I wonder if she made it, or if she bought it?  Was she crafty like Edith was?  Nick is pretty sure that women of that time period had lots of crafty skillz.  But with her mother running off with the circus/dying young, did she get the training, maybe from her grandma?  The world will never know. (yes, Nick did steal this from the Tootsie Roll Pop commercial)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDL___8n9hI/AAAAAAAAAD0/HKvdhuVgGyA/s1600-h/Esther.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202501994528896530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDL___8n9hI/AAAAAAAAAD0/HKvdhuVgGyA/s320/Esther.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Esther's brother Paul, Esther and Leo. Couple of handsome fellows!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMAAP8n9iI/AAAAAAAAAD8/8DRN0_RXev4/s1600-h/Paul,+Esther,+Leo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202501998823863842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDMAAP8n9iI/AAAAAAAAAD8/8DRN0_RXev4/s320/Paul,+Esther,+Leo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nick is splitting these up into a couple of posts today, because...because I want to, that's why! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-7519767534804944785?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/7519767534804944785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=7519767534804944785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/7519767534804944785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/7519767534804944785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/05/pics.html' title='The famous promised pics!'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDL_9_8n9eI/AAAAAAAAADc/SbKSduD-nBI/s72-c/Eshter+%26+Leo+Uniform.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-3975077273624891244</id><published>2008-05-19T14:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:39.921-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tulip festival'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flowers'/><title type='text'>A Post Full Of Pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH54P8n9VI/AAAAAAAAACU/1xXtnND6lyg/s1600-h/P1010827_0530.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202213789338432850" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH54P8n9VI/AAAAAAAAACU/1xXtnND6lyg/s320/P1010827_0530.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH54f8n9WI/AAAAAAAAACc/2t2oFZWMnF8/s1600-h/P1010837_0540.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202213793633400162" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH54f8n9WI/AAAAAAAAACc/2t2oFZWMnF8/s320/P1010837_0540.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH54_8n9XI/AAAAAAAAACk/H4qbZJjLg7w/s1600-h/P1010820_0524.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202213802223334770" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH54_8n9XI/AAAAAAAAACk/H4qbZJjLg7w/s320/P1010820_0524.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH55f8n9YI/AAAAAAAAACs/Rcur5F0cAXo/s1600-h/P1010801_0507.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202213810813269378" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH55f8n9YI/AAAAAAAAACs/Rcur5F0cAXo/s320/P1010801_0507.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH5Bv8n9QI/AAAAAAAAABs/n3lwwNg3Vtg/s1600-h/P1010807_0513.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202212853035562242" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH5Bv8n9QI/AAAAAAAAABs/n3lwwNg3Vtg/s320/P1010807_0513.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH5CP8n9RI/AAAAAAAAAB0/ApzxyLMt2Pk/s1600-h/P1010809_0515.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202212861625496850" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH5CP8n9RI/AAAAAAAAAB0/ApzxyLMt2Pk/s320/P1010809_0515.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH5Cf8n9SI/AAAAAAAAAB8/npLt6PF-u7A/s1600-h/P1010815_0521.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202212865920464162" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH5Cf8n9SI/AAAAAAAAAB8/npLt6PF-u7A/s320/P1010815_0521.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH5C_8n9TI/AAAAAAAAACE/ZXZ6VRJI2DM/s1600-h/P1010829_0532.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202212874510398770" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH5C_8n9TI/AAAAAAAAACE/ZXZ6VRJI2DM/s320/P1010829_0532.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH5Dv8n9UI/AAAAAAAAACM/DFVGaykdgoE/s1600-h/P1010852_0555.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202212887395300674" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH5Dv8n9UI/AAAAAAAAACM/DFVGaykdgoE/s320/P1010852_0555.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH4PP8n9PI/AAAAAAAAABk/KqkLf9Odkm0/s1600-h/P1010803_0509.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202211985452168434" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH4PP8n9PI/AAAAAAAAABk/KqkLf9Odkm0/s320/P1010803_0509.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hey everyone - I was thinking I'd like to give you some views of my world and yes, at the same time, experiment with uploading photos!! :) Okay, the uploading I still haven't figured out, but this was a trip my mom and I recently made to the Skagit Valley Tulip Festival (she's the cute one with the short hair) - gorgeous day, and tons of fun!! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;xo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;N&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-3975077273624891244?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/3975077273624891244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=3975077273624891244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/3975077273624891244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/3975077273624891244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/05/post-full-of-pics.html' title='A Post Full Of Pics'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDH54P8n9VI/AAAAAAAAACU/1xXtnND6lyg/s72-c/P1010827_0530.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-8419567152615366647</id><published>2008-05-19T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:40.302-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family archives'/><title type='text'>Family Archives Part 3 (Louise's Story)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDHUB_8n9OI/AAAAAAAAABY/ClDVCOXMXRQ/s1600-h/NE2e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202172175400301794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDHUB_8n9OI/AAAAAAAAABY/ClDVCOXMXRQ/s320/NE2e.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Louise, probably circa 1936-1937&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDHAav8n9LI/AAAAAAAAAA8/GPxul5VbODY/s1600-h/NE2b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202150610369508530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 304px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 575px" height="320" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDHAav8n9LI/AAAAAAAAAA8/GPxul5VbODY/s320/NE2b.jpg" width="304" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDHAa_8n9MI/AAAAAAAAABE/kvLaDSomZf8/s1600-h/NE3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202150614664475842" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" height="297" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDHAa_8n9MI/AAAAAAAAABE/kvLaDSomZf8/s320/NE3.jpg" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Edith (GG) and Bert Young&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Louise's &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Uncle Paul&lt;/span&gt; and his wife &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Lillian&lt;/span&gt; take Louise in for awhile, but since it is the depression, it is a hardship on them, and Lillian wants Louise out. They argue and Louise overhears this. Therefore her father takes Louise to live with him, but he has been remarried to a lady also named &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Nellie&lt;/span&gt; (coincidence - ? or !), and this makes Louise angry, as her own mother is not even dead a year yet. Needless to say, there are many conflicts, resulting in Louise being sent to live with the principal of her school in exchange for room and board. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Louise finishes school and lands a job at a soda fountain, becoming whatever the female version of "soda jerk" is. Or maybe she is still in school, okay - Nick doesn't know everything! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At this time, she meets a lovely boy in overalls named &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Bert Young.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Dear reader, we now continue with some &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Bert Young&lt;/span&gt; backstory! (that's him in the above pic, with his Mommy)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bert is the son of &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Elmer Young&lt;/span&gt; and his wife, &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Laura Edith Shutt Young&lt;/span&gt;. He is born in Winterst, Iowa, and is not a relation of &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;John Wayne&lt;/span&gt;, who was also born there. Also no relation to &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Clint Eastwood&lt;/span&gt;, who filmed a move there. BUT, he IS related to &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Queen Elizabeth&lt;/span&gt;! Oh, wait - who cares about THAT?!?!? What about &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Charlemagne&lt;/span&gt;? &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Henry II&lt;/span&gt;? &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;John Lackland&lt;/span&gt;? These do not float your boat, dear reader?? Oh, ALL RIGHT THEN, back to the story!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Elmer and Edith are from large families, and both of their mothers die young - either in childbirth or shortly thereafter. Either for this reason, or maybe just that they both would prefer a much smaller family - or some other factor - miscarriages? Nick believes that it is the second reason, and she does not blame Edith for that one bit. NOT ONE BIT! Oh - anyway, there is only the small Bertie in the Elmer Young household. Even though his father is an auto mechanic, Bert has quite a bit of access to farm equipment, and gets his middle fingernail permanently split by some piece of equipment that Nick cannot remember even though Grandpa Bert told her more than once, and if anyone knows the answer please help Nick out!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bert also at one point has a &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;wolf pup&lt;/span&gt; for a pet - but eventually Elmer has to MOVE the pup to OTHER QUARTERS - no shooting of defenseless, &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;rabid&lt;/span&gt; animals here, peeps! And just kidding on the rabid part!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-8419567152615366647?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/8419567152615366647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=8419567152615366647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/8419567152615366647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/8419567152615366647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/05/family-archives-part-3-louises-story.html' title='Family Archives Part 3 (Louise&apos;s Story)'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDHUB_8n9OI/AAAAAAAAABY/ClDVCOXMXRQ/s72-c/NE2e.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-3544593672447294529</id><published>2008-05-12T14:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T11:59:58.903-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family archives'/><title type='text'>Scanner problems, and more Archives (Louise's Story)</title><content type='html'>Nick has been having some scanner issues and deeply apologizes for the delay in the pictures that apparently no one is looking at anyway *ahem* oh! So hopefully by the end of the week, there should be some LOVELY pics which Nick can see right now, but you, dear reader(?) cannot. Meanwhile, Nick will continue with her story, to whet your (?) appetite...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Leo gets back from the Army, things do not go so well. Times are rough, and the relationship between Esther and Leo begins crumbling. Louise is sent to pay overdue bills on her own when she is still very young.&lt;br /&gt;Leo and Esther split up, and Esther begins seeing a man who is involved in &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;illegal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; activity during Prohibition, otherwise known as &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;rum running&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. This boyfriend takes Esther and Louise with him on trips from Des Moines, IA to Chicago and back, so that the police are less likely to suspect the hauling of a load of &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;illegal hooch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Esther and Louise eventually relocate to Chicago with this unnamed (for our purposes) fellow, and live in an apartment close to the Ell, just down the street from a warehouse where the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;St. Valentine's Day Massacre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; takes place (Esther and Louise are actually living there at the time this happens).&lt;br /&gt;Esther develops cancer (possibly pancreatic?) and dies during a surgical procedure when Louise is just 13 years old. Esther herself is only about 35 when she dies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What will happen to our herione? Tune in tomorrow, and there may yet even be pictures!! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo N&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-3544593672447294529?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/3544593672447294529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=3544593672447294529' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/3544593672447294529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/3544593672447294529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/05/scanner-problems-and-more-archives.html' title='Scanner problems, and more Archives (Louise&apos;s Story)'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-1420442830810935043</id><published>2008-05-12T12:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:40.491-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family archives'/><title type='text'>Family Archives (Louise's Story)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SCi_iv8n9KI/AAAAAAAAAA0/geiJltUv0EU/s1600-h/NE2a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199616373506438306" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SCi_iv8n9KI/AAAAAAAAAA0/geiJltUv0EU/s320/NE2a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SCigTv8n9JI/AAAAAAAAAAs/IIh0sG_SwYo/s1600-h/NE2e.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SCieIv8n9II/AAAAAAAAAAk/M55WajL8hRo/s1600-h/NE2a.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got a fabulous idea from the awesome I Am Bossy, whose blog I adore and would steal every idea from if I could, but that would be illegal or something, so I won't. She rocks, people. But I need to find my own voice, right? Right! But would really love to speak it in 3rd person...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyhoo, back to the subject. Nick is telling the story of her grandparents' lives, as Nick is very into geneaology and history and all that, and she is again, totally stealing from Bossy whom again, she thinks ROCKS TOTALLY, etc etc...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The above photo is of Nick's grandma, whose real first name was Nellie - but thinking that sounded too much like the name of any given horse or cow, she went by her middle name, the lovely Louise. Nick believes that every little breeze seems to whisper Louise. That's an old song...Nick will try to keep to the subject here, promise!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nick's grandma Louise was an only child. And when Nick figures out how to get other pics in the right spots, she will add more. *frustration ensuing* So anyway, Louise was an only child whose dad entered the military when she was three, during WWI. At this point, Louise's parents look very happy. My next post will contain several pics of them, I promise - in uniform! Louise's mom, whose name is Esther, keeps her while Louise's dad, Leo, is in the Army - apparently at a desk job - he never went overseas. Which is strange, but Nick has no clue as to why...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Louise's mom, Esther, has a grandmother, a father and a younger brother, but no mother. There are two stories about this: one, that Esther's mom may have run off with the circus (!), or two, that she merely died young. You can pick which one you like unless Nick hears anything different. Nick likes the circus story - did her great-great-grandma actually PERFORM with the circus?? Did she ride bareback, or fly on the trapeze, or something?? Or did she love a circus performer and sew his costumes and live in a tent?? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Esther's father (Albert) is a paper hanger whose father (Augustus) was alternately a harness maker and a cobbler, fyi. Nick just likes to get her readers the facts, the outlines, if you will. So the readers know who is who and what is what. Nick believes that Esther and Louise stay with Albert and Esther's grandmother (Emma) while Leo is in the Army, and there are a couple of pics, which again, Nick will post. Hey, tomorrow is ALL ABOUT the PICS, okay?? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;xo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;N&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-1420442830810935043?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/1420442830810935043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=1420442830810935043' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/1420442830810935043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/1420442830810935043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/05/family-archives.html' title='Family Archives (Louise&apos;s Story)'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SCi_iv8n9KI/AAAAAAAAAA0/geiJltUv0EU/s72-c/NE2a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-5358574528878535642</id><published>2008-05-12T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:40.735-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday, Monday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDxED8hr_aI/AAAAAAAAALk/YIh2T9gIloA/s1600-h/P1010924.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205110103911169442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDxED8hr_aI/AAAAAAAAALk/YIh2T9gIloA/s320/P1010924.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDxEEMhr_bI/AAAAAAAAALs/Hp0Dt1Jfd5Y/s1600-h/P1010930.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205110108206136754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDxEEMhr_bI/AAAAAAAAALs/Hp0Dt1Jfd5Y/s320/P1010930.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, how was everyone's Mother's Day??&lt;br /&gt;My mother had a particularly good one, if I do say so myself! Brothers #2 &amp;amp; #3 and I took her to lunch, and brother #3 and I bought her masses of flowering plants for the back deck, I bought her some great earrings, and she got a couple of mushy cards - well played, Ernst children, well played!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-5358574528878535642?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/5358574528878535642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=5358574528878535642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/5358574528878535642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/5358574528878535642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/05/monday-monday.html' title='Monday, Monday'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SDxED8hr_aI/AAAAAAAAALk/YIh2T9gIloA/s72-c/P1010924.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7879199256417225263.post-4075609418161847170</id><published>2008-05-09T15:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:33:40.860-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spring'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flowers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chat'/><title type='text'>Here goes nothin'!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SCTSZhSZZyI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/TLp6sCmx1AY/s1600-h/P1010795_0408.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198511205766489890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SCTSZhSZZyI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/TLp6sCmx1AY/s200/P1010795_0408.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, so here we are on my very first post, and I am excited about nothin'!!! Or something. I hope whoever you are, you will enjoy yourself greatly, pull up a mental lounge chair and sip yourself a long, cool drink - okay, yes, I am stealing from Paula Deen, right off the bat. But that's the way I roll. Alrighty, then!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I am very glad it is FRIDAY, and that I have a job that ALLOWS ME TIME TO BLOG AT WORK!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I leave you with a pic of some spring blossoms - what? Oh, yes, stealing ideas again. I know these pics are everywhere, I KNOW IT. But this one is mine all mine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have a GREAT WEEKEND, everybody!!!! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7879199256417225263-4075609418161847170?l=nickinthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/feeds/4075609418161847170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7879199256417225263&amp;postID=4075609418161847170' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/4075609418161847170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7879199256417225263/posts/default/4075609418161847170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nickinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/05/here-goes-nothin.html' title='Here goes nothin&apos;!'/><author><name>Nick</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9rydPg_vSk/TpcjFA8DP7I/AAAAAAAAAek/zeNCZMY-mo8/s220/P1070693.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_on7nZ-XyKtg/SCTSZhSZZyI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/TLp6sCmx1AY/s72-c/P1010795_0408.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
