<?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-6277085681926248005</id><updated>2012-02-16T16:32:36.857-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OSTLERIOT</title><subtitle type='html'>On October 16th, 2008 Ostler and Theriot became one, and we couldn't be happier</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-1983574382005678888</id><published>2011-07-26T17:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-26T17:12:42.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ryanism</title><content type='html'>The other day Ryan and I were driving and talking about his facial hair -you know,..we talk about that stuff a lot. He was saying he kinda likes the way his face looks when it's scruffy, but he feels bad that it scratches my face when we kiss. And I agree with both statements. He then &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;proceeded&lt;/span&gt; to say the following:&lt;br /&gt;"I wish that I had retractable facial hair like a cat's claws" Following that statement up with the action and sound effects of a cat retracting it's claws. "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;rowr&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;pht&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;pht"&lt;/span&gt; ---you just can't type that kind of thing out,..sorry.&lt;br /&gt;-Probably one of those "you had to be there" moments, but it was really really funny and I was laughing about it all night. He always makes me laugh so much. It's great to have free entertainment like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-1983574382005678888?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/1983574382005678888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=1983574382005678888&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/1983574382005678888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/1983574382005678888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2011/07/ryanism.html' title='Ryanism'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-4401716531544675735</id><published>2011-07-21T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T10:34:34.425-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the five alls</title><content type='html'>So a bit about the restaurant that Ryan found to take me to for our &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;anniversary&lt;/span&gt;. It's called The Five &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Alls&lt;/span&gt; and it was pretty rad. First of all, its giant wooden door is so tucked away amongst vines and it's a surprise anyone ever finds the place. When you walk inside all the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;blinds&lt;/span&gt; are drawn giving it this dark cozy atmosphere and oh ya,.. did I tell you it's a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;medieval&lt;/span&gt; atmosphere?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kof-8QQgFho/TihccgIZsNI/AAAAAAAAANE/Jxv_QCv446M/s1600/P1000063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631852978758070482" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kof-8QQgFho/TihccgIZsNI/AAAAAAAAANE/Jxv_QCv446M/s320/P1000063.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's by no means like going to a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;jousting&lt;/span&gt; tournament where you have to eat &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Cornish&lt;/span&gt; game hens with your hands. It's an awesome eight course meal and everything was so delicious -notice the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;frappe&lt;/span&gt; thing next to Ryan's plate. So good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5FQDKXrXCPc/Tihccc7JojI/AAAAAAAAAM8/3NazDRna_uU/s1600/P1000064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631852977897185842" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5FQDKXrXCPc/Tihccc7JojI/AAAAAAAAAM8/3NazDRna_uU/s320/P1000064.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Mainly it was just a way fun ambiance with really good food. Thanks for finding it Ryan. On a side note, remember when my hear was red red red?? I found this picture while I was looking for the five &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;alls&lt;/span&gt; pics. Ugly picture, but it kinda makes me miss my red hair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C1ljEnJUpP0/Tihcb3Lnc_I/AAAAAAAAAM0/rE2ujZ-TDK8/s1600/P1000033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631852967765701618" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C1ljEnJUpP0/Tihcb3Lnc_I/AAAAAAAAAM0/rE2ujZ-TDK8/s320/P1000033.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/6277085681926248005-4401716531544675735?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/4401716531544675735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=4401716531544675735&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/4401716531544675735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/4401716531544675735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2011/07/five-alls.html' title='the five alls'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kof-8QQgFho/TihccgIZsNI/AAAAAAAAANE/Jxv_QCv446M/s72-c/P1000063.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-4637023788393545241</id><published>2011-06-30T10:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T10:49:21.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>last year's aniversiary</title><content type='html'>I saw my first moose. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt; it was dead on the side of the road in Parley's canyon. Ryan was so good to me though, when we saw it he actually got off at the next exit, got back on heading the other direction, got off again and pulled over so i could get a better look. Do I have the best husband or what. I got a stick and poked it, and it was pretty nasty. It was giant too! Everything I ever thought a moose would be,...except, of course, that it was dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cpnUS_HUXh0/Tgyy9D0cPNI/AAAAAAAAAMs/LLAiDFR9eJw/s1600/P1000082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624066796745931986" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cpnUS_HUXh0/Tgyy9D0cPNI/AAAAAAAAAMs/LLAiDFR9eJw/s320/P1000082.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We were in the canyon because for our &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;anniversary&lt;/span&gt; Ryan found a cool bed and breakfast in Huntsville (an extremely cute and quaint little town up Ogden canyon) that we stayed in. It was such an awesome little get away but not because of the bed and breakfast per say,.. Ryan secured a pair of beach cruisers and we spent the day riding around and exploring the cutest &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;little&lt;/span&gt; town ever amongst the beautiful changing leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ppDbsdS7Z70/Tgyy8jVZj5I/AAAAAAAAAMk/JfwxOQXCmiA/s1600/P1000073.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624066788025798546" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ppDbsdS7Z70/Tgyy8jVZj5I/AAAAAAAAAMk/JfwxOQXCmiA/s320/P1000073.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I am obsessed with beach cruisers. LOVE them. (never mind that the one I'm riding here looks big enough to eat me) It was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;SOOOOOOOO&lt;/span&gt; much fun. The weather was perfect and everything was beautiful. Such an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;awesome&lt;/span&gt; time and great memories. Ryan did a really good job!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H7HcExe6N9Y/Tgyy8PzEKaI/AAAAAAAAAMc/MLKl643_V1A/s1600/P1000072.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624066782781516194" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H7HcExe6N9Y/Tgyy8PzEKaI/AAAAAAAAAMc/MLKl643_V1A/s320/P1000072.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So this picture of Ryan doesn't give a very &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;accurate&lt;/span&gt; picture of how cute the town was. I'll have to post again with other pictures and talk about our dinner adventures the night before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BgFC5VcbTc4/Tgyy7x6Ri0I/AAAAAAAAAMU/HgWQ3qlEnCU/s1600/P1000071.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624066774758689602" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BgFC5VcbTc4/Tgyy7x6Ri0I/AAAAAAAAAMU/HgWQ3qlEnCU/s320/P1000071.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't these trees incredible? I love it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-4637023788393545241?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/4637023788393545241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=4637023788393545241&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/4637023788393545241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/4637023788393545241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2011/06/last-years-aniversiary.html' title='last year&apos;s aniversiary'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cpnUS_HUXh0/Tgyy9D0cPNI/AAAAAAAAAMs/LLAiDFR9eJw/s72-c/P1000082.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-832045737224063988</id><published>2011-06-19T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T10:57:34.282-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random stuff</title><content type='html'>Because my parents found out that they were moving to Utah in January, last Thanksgiving we went to Arizona for the last supper. I can't remember the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;last&lt;/span&gt; time that I was down there for Thanksgiving, and it was really nice to be home. It was special K, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Raeody&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Meanagan&lt;/span&gt; and Ryan and I (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Rimy&lt;/span&gt;). Kind of a small group, but actually really nice. They just had Mac and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Raegan&lt;/span&gt; and it was timed perfectly so that they were both down for naps at the time of the eating. It was so quiet and nice with just adults. Seriously, it doesn't sound like a lot of fun, and usually I'm one for family chaos, but it was probably one of the best Thanksgivings I've ever had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R7HX340yIcQ/Tf4yqLMMjmI/AAAAAAAAAMM/bWiQBSGlYxA/s1600/Picture%2B009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619985085144796770" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R7HX340yIcQ/Tf4yqLMMjmI/AAAAAAAAAMM/bWiQBSGlYxA/s320/Picture%2B009.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My mom let me decorate the table which I super loved. I have no idea why I think it's so fun to arrange plates etc, but I do. Ryan even helped stick the apples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tBWBEGvdKuk/Tf4yp6mVeTI/AAAAAAAAAME/kOKDBkY8oL4/s1600/Picture%2B010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619985080691030322" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tBWBEGvdKuk/Tf4yp6mVeTI/AAAAAAAAAME/kOKDBkY8oL4/s320/Picture%2B010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; While we were down there Ryan went to Bass pro shop with my dad. well, they had to get matching &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;fleece&lt;/span&gt; jackets. And if you know my dad, you know that he never buys just one of something when he's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;buying&lt;/span&gt; it for someone else, and you know that he loves to match, so they got three each. Green, brown and black. Ryan actually wore his &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;fleece&lt;/span&gt; jackets quite often last winter.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how often dad wore them -he may have needed something a bit heavier for his first Salt Lake winter, but here he is in AZ flashing some sort of gang symbol, no doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-onDmo_5kNcA/Tf4ypvYcgtI/AAAAAAAAAL8/pRgXVSUJJA4/s1600/Picture%2B013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619985077679981266" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-onDmo_5kNcA/Tf4ypvYcgtI/AAAAAAAAAL8/pRgXVSUJJA4/s320/Picture%2B013.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So,....I happened upon an estate sale like none other last fall. The old man that had passed away was a nutcracker collector. It's true. There were THOUSANDS of nut crackers that his children were trying to get rid of. thousands. all shapes and sizes and nationalities. I was lucky enough to come away with these two big boys. Take a closer look at the picture. They really are pretty big. (although I have to say, his biggest was about six feet tall. Amazing. So I have a special place in my heart for nutcrackers at Christmas because my grandma had some big ones that she would always put out at Christmas and of course the care bear nutcracker movie that we would watch over and over again. I named mine (the one on the right) Dimitri -or &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Dimka&lt;/span&gt; for short, ( I was reading the Vampire Academy at the time of the purchase) and I told Ryan he could name the other one. He named it....Creepy. He &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;apparently&lt;/span&gt; does not have a soft spot in his heart for nutcrackers. -I should probably make him watch the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;carebear&lt;/span&gt; nutcracker movie with me. So we now have Creepy and Dimitri. at Christmas time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3eXYu92EUSU/Tf4ypCa3McI/AAAAAAAAAL0/yRVEM-hU3uA/s1600/Picture%2B014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619985065610523074" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3eXYu92EUSU/Tf4ypCa3McI/AAAAAAAAAL0/yRVEM-hU3uA/s320/Picture%2B014.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/6277085681926248005-832045737224063988?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/832045737224063988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=832045737224063988&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/832045737224063988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/832045737224063988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2011/06/random-stuff.html' title='Random stuff'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R7HX340yIcQ/Tf4yqLMMjmI/AAAAAAAAAMM/bWiQBSGlYxA/s72-c/Picture%2B009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-6526119443497685175</id><published>2011-06-17T08:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-17T08:56:16.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Per request, mrs piggy pin explanation</title><content type='html'>Ryan and I did the "give a day get a day" program which basically means that we spent a few hours pulling weeds with my good friend Jenny the volunteer coordinator (that's right, I know some people) for the Ogden nature center. For our service we &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt; two free tickets to Disneyland. When we went to Disneyland to claim out tickets they gave us those awesome Ms Piggy pins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Genius&lt;/span&gt; on Disney's part, really. I imagine they have to have about the same amount of workers there whether it's super busy or not, and just think of all the money the made in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;extra&lt;/span&gt; sales of food etc. having all those people there. -I know Ryan and I spent a ton. Most volunteer people upgraded their tickets to a two or three day pass or park hopper too. -which was not free. smart &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Rober&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Iger&lt;/span&gt;, smart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-6526119443497685175?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/6526119443497685175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=6526119443497685175&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/6526119443497685175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/6526119443497685175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2011/06/per-request-mrs-piggy-pin-explanation.html' title='Per request, mrs piggy pin explanation'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-5209626573040059854</id><published>2011-06-12T09:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T11:17:05.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My birthday .... last NOvember</title><content type='html'>Last November I turned 30. fun. To ease the pain I spent the day at the happiest place on earth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-B3ySCoGqFqE/TfTwt6hxJNI/AAAAAAAAALs/dt6Ra38ZsrQ/s1600/Picture%2B001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617379306833519826" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-B3ySCoGqFqE/TfTwt6hxJNI/AAAAAAAAALs/dt6Ra38ZsrQ/s200/Picture%2B001.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; IT WAS AWESOME. I love going to Disneyland with family because it's really fun to be all together and see the kids having fun, but Disneyland with just two adults is a whole different experience. Ryan let me be the queen and call all the shots ( &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sooooo&lt;/span&gt; different from real life....sarcasm) so I picked all the rides and I even finally broke down and got those ridiculous mickey ears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--gKODo0OdNk/TfTwtXjU3EI/AAAAAAAAALk/KR2hdzeXTpg/s1600/Picture%2B003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617379297444813890" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--gKODo0OdNk/TfTwtXjU3EI/AAAAAAAAALk/KR2hdzeXTpg/s200/Picture%2B003.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Every time I go to Disneyland I want those ears but they're such a rip off. I figured it was go big or go home this time -being the birthday time and all, and I new that I could make Ry wear them too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--TH8t_W1neA/TfTwtPWU9DI/AAAAAAAAALc/i4IppnTlTaI/s1600/Picture%2B004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617379295242810418" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--TH8t_W1neA/TfTwtPWU9DI/AAAAAAAAALc/i4IppnTlTaI/s200/Picture%2B004.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The following comment made all &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;thirty&lt;/span&gt; bucks we spent on hats worth it. We were standing in line at the peter pan ride and Ryan of course was standing there in all his mouse ear glory. Some random person walking by looks at Ryan and mutters under his breath, "that's one big ass mouse." &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hahahaha&lt;/span&gt;. awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FSNOamiBrTU/TfTukddKMTI/AAAAAAAAALM/icAUFBXSPQw/s1600/Picture%2B008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617376945387483442" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FSNOamiBrTU/TfTukddKMTI/AAAAAAAAALM/icAUFBXSPQw/s200/Picture%2B008.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We even went to the blue bayou for my first time ever. It was amazing! Seriously,...It's going to be hard not to go there every time now. Oh well. Definitely worth it on my birthday. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Geeez&lt;/span&gt; writing this post makes me want to go do it all over again tomorrow. Sad. We had a blast!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-5209626573040059854?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/5209626573040059854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=5209626573040059854&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/5209626573040059854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/5209626573040059854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-birthday-last-november.html' title='My birthday .... last NOvember'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-B3ySCoGqFqE/TfTwt6hxJNI/AAAAAAAAALs/dt6Ra38ZsrQ/s72-c/Picture%2B001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-3912381712425749146</id><published>2011-06-10T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-10T20:41:35.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Con-truck-dictions</title><content type='html'>Often times I find myself in quite a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;contradicting&lt;/span&gt; situation and think it's funny. My favorite being the title inspiring "con-truck-diction." I know, I know,.. the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;wit&lt;/span&gt; amazes even the owner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be at Sunflower market (a natural organic produce store comparable to "sprouts" for you Mesa-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ers&lt;/span&gt;) toting organic greens in my "save the planet" reusable &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;grocery&lt;/span&gt; sacks. Then, purchase complete, head out to my gigantic environment stomping natural resource binging ridiculously &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;over sized&lt;/span&gt; truck. As I'm loading the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;groceries&lt;/span&gt;, and consequently myself, into the truck I wonder how many sunflower &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;attendees&lt;/span&gt; are shaking their head in confusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight another such &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;contradicting&lt;/span&gt; event &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;occurred&lt;/span&gt;. I rode Scoot over to the Murray High track and jogged quite a bit. Now, when I jog, -even just a little, my whole face turns red and I look as if I've only just barely escaped a war zone. -panting, wild look in the eyes and all. As I've mentioned I did more than just a little jogging so all of these lovely conditions were &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;heightened&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well tomorrow morning we're having a salon meeting before our day begins and so I thought that I would be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;charitable&lt;/span&gt; and bring in some delicious made from scratch banana cupcakes. -my mother's recipe, thus delicious. I noticed before I left for the track that we were out of sugar, so on the way home I stopped by the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;grocery&lt;/span&gt; store for the goods.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I happened to run into two different people from my ward and passed by many more unknown in the store. There I was looking like I had just finished a marathon and carting around the biggest bag of sugar that they sold. I wonder if I looked as odd as I felt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-3912381712425749146?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/3912381712425749146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=3912381712425749146&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/3912381712425749146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/3912381712425749146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2011/06/con-truck-dictions.html' title='Con-truck-dictions'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-2230598035133929066</id><published>2011-02-11T11:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-06-05T10:31:37.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the kids</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VcDXM34iQlw/TVWRbmCwCmI/AAAAAAAAALA/pbjZe92_Qy8/s1600/P1000039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572520017195436642" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VcDXM34iQlw/TVWRbmCwCmI/AAAAAAAAALA/pbjZe92_Qy8/s400/P1000039.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My awesome brother and sister gave Ryan and I the gift of life for Christmas. it was a butterfly kit. You sent a card and in return &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt; caterpillars in a jar. -these then &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;cocooned&lt;/span&gt; themselves and you move them into a netted cage and then they hatch. I must say, moving them into the cage was one of the most disgusting things I've ever done. -and I've done a lot. Their green slimy "waste" was everywhere and it was kinda creepy the way they were dangling from what looked like a spider web. It was all worth it a week or so later when they hatched. These pictures suck, but it really was pretty cool. If I had kids I'd definitely do it again. &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;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;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;I felt kinda bad keeping them alive on orange slices in that tiny little cage, so we decided to let the kids spread their wings -of course &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;litterally&lt;/span&gt;, and I stuck them outside. They probably all ended up getting &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;eated&lt;/span&gt; by birds, but hey, they had their time in the sun. Thanks Ken and Monica! -You didn't think I'd really send away for them did you,...well I did and it was cool. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-2230598035133929066?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/2230598035133929066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=2230598035133929066&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/2230598035133929066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/2230598035133929066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2011/02/kids.html' title='the kids'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VcDXM34iQlw/TVWRbmCwCmI/AAAAAAAAALA/pbjZe92_Qy8/s72-c/P1000039.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-437721236678353294</id><published>2010-10-21T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-21T09:40:00.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>home made pesto</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TMBePAA052I/AAAAAAAAAKg/kSXFuCtUEt8/s1600/P1000040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530523954205484898" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TMBePAA052I/AAAAAAAAAKg/kSXFuCtUEt8/s400/P1000040.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this summer I decided to get a little crazy and plant some herbs on my balcony -I consider this is crazy because I kill everything green aside from a bamboo plant that my sister in law Becca got me. (I'm going on three years with that bad boy now ...I know) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, One of the herbs is a basil plant. I thought that I would use it a lot, but I just didn't make anything requiring fresh basil this summer. Well, I knew I had to use it soon because winter's a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;com'n&lt;/span&gt;, so I decided on my first batch of pesto. -the pine nuts sitting on my shelf helped inspire this decision. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was AMAZED at how much basil it took to make just a small amount of pesto. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Geeeez&lt;/span&gt;, it nearly took the whole plant to make like a cup. A client recently informed me that you can use parsley as well to help cut back on basil usage. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We threw it on some sandwiches with a bit of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;rotisserie&lt;/span&gt; chicken and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;arugula&lt;/span&gt; and it was so good! Sadly my basil plant is practically gone now, but one can hardly be sad about that fact whilst eating delicious pesto &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-437721236678353294?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/437721236678353294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=437721236678353294&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/437721236678353294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/437721236678353294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2010/10/home-made-pesto.html' title='home made pesto'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TMBePAA052I/AAAAAAAAAKg/kSXFuCtUEt8/s72-c/P1000040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-6910437369954872757</id><published>2010-10-14T09:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T10:05:36.304-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Portland!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TLczufa7rwI/AAAAAAAAAKY/f4nS41fl5jY/s1600/Picture+020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527943941422034690" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TLczufa7rwI/AAAAAAAAAKY/f4nS41fl5jY/s400/Picture+020.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I went to visit my best Allison in Portland a couple of weeks ago. She's the best host you could ever ask for. She took work off to hang out with me and did a lot of random things that she new I'd love! Sadly I never remember to take pictures but I did manage a few. The above is of us attending Mozart's Grand Mass. Yes I am in jeans -that's what they do here. Yes I picked the naked lady to be in our background. Along the concert line, we also went to see &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Pagliacci&lt;/span&gt; and Carmina &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Burana&lt;/span&gt; neither of which I had seen live. I really liked them both -&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Pagliacci&lt;/span&gt; the best. Way fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TLczts9JFjI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/3vU60au3MkM/s1600/Picture+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527943927875311154" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TLczts9JFjI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/3vU60au3MkM/s400/Picture+016.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She also took me to this way cool hotel up on hood mountain where we got the most &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;insanely&lt;/span&gt; delicious hot chocolates of my life. This hotel was way cool on the inside but is mostly known for the outside. This hotel is the one they used in the Shining -one of the creepiest movies ever. AWESOME eh? I was so excited to be there. On the movie whenever they show the outside of the Overlook hotel they're showing this hotel that we were at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TLcztJy8ecI/AAAAAAAAAKI/4BLF-rNZcBM/s1600/Picture+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527943918437300674" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TLcztJy8ecI/AAAAAAAAAKI/4BLF-rNZcBM/s400/Picture+017.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A close up because I know you wanted one. She also took me to all of the markets which was awesome. I even bought a print from a painting there and it's hanging on my wall right now (it's very &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;halloweenie&lt;/span&gt; and I love it -I'll show it in another post) I did manage to get a picture of this awesomeness though. Allison has become quite the amazing &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;parallel&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;parker&lt;/span&gt;. In this particular spot neither of us realized that there were tiny &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;columns&lt;/span&gt; along the sidewalk, and she ended up getting this close to one of them without knowing it. Lucky? Uh ya. I couldn't get out of my door and we ended up having to wait for a Chinese class to get out before we could move -long story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TLczsWHP6WI/AAAAAAAAAKA/-ZbHb3dZeSc/s1600/Picture+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527943904563816802" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TLczsWHP6WI/AAAAAAAAAKA/-ZbHb3dZeSc/s400/Picture+019.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We went on a super awesome ghost tour around downtown Portland at night and we had some EXTREMELY interesting people on the tour with us. It was quite &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;comical&lt;/span&gt; actually. We went to a ton of cool farms and saw some beautiful produce and stuff, we ate at some great places, and we saw the coolest old pub/haunted hotel ever.  It was really fun. Thanks so much Allison for letting me come and hang and spending so much time with me -and for the delicious sandwiches that you made me! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/6277085681926248005-6910437369954872757?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/6910437369954872757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=6910437369954872757&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/6910437369954872757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/6910437369954872757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2010/10/portland.html' title='Portland!!!'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TLczufa7rwI/AAAAAAAAAKY/f4nS41fl5jY/s72-c/Picture+020.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-5474512931743003151</id><published>2010-10-05T09:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T10:09:16.791-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Derby</title><content type='html'>Ryan's been most anxious for me to post about the derby. So here it is sweetheart in all its white trash glory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TKtZDsDZwBI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/010zypPfPUQ/s1600/Picture+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524607287799955474" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TKtZDsDZwBI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/010zypPfPUQ/s400/Picture+009.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this may quite well be my favorite thing to buy a ticket for. I first became acquainted with the demolition derby my first &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;semester&lt;/span&gt; at USU. (every year at the beginning of fall &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;semester&lt;/span&gt; Preston ID throws a big) I could not BELIEVE that I'd never even heard of such a thing before. I instantly fell in love and have enjoyed the smashing of cars since. It had been a few years since I'd been though and Ryan and I had never been together so we found one way out west this summer and went with our awesome friends the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ferres&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TKtZDPoiiZI/AAAAAAAAAJw/yMHxhd9fRxk/s1600/Picture+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524607280171092370" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TKtZDPoiiZI/AAAAAAAAAJw/yMHxhd9fRxk/s400/Picture+007.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm really lame and didn't get a lot of pictures but it was a really good derby. They even had a figure 8 race where cars got flipped over! It's funny because you want to cheer but at the same time you're like,... &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;uhm&lt;/span&gt;, are they &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;? -and they were. In fact, both times the driver shimmied out the window, grabbed a few other guys to help and they flipped the car back over climbed in again and started back in at the race. Awesome.&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/6277085681926248005-5474512931743003151?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/5474512931743003151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=5474512931743003151&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/5474512931743003151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/5474512931743003151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2010/10/derby.html' title='Derby'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TKtZDsDZwBI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/010zypPfPUQ/s72-c/Picture+009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-5329460841636300621</id><published>2010-09-29T20:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T21:27:52.561-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Golden Retriever</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TKQKlbvAmII/AAAAAAAAAJo/wZqwKjnfbUA/s1600/Picture+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522550681279436930" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TKQKlbvAmII/AAAAAAAAAJo/wZqwKjnfbUA/s400/Picture+004.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've decided that were Ryan to wake up next to me tomorrow as an animal he would be a Golden retriever. I've come to that conclusion because of a few traits that he shares with our canine friends. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He's always happy and loving, food has the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;noticeable&lt;/span&gt; ability to heighten said happiness to extreme proportions, he's really quick to forgive, he's always excited to see me, and he loves naps. So maybe a lot of guys have all these things going for them, but &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;there's&lt;/span&gt; one thing my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ryno&lt;/span&gt; has that I doubt many other guys exhibit. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Search and retrieve. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Not with just anything though -as dogs typically bring their "masters" items such as dead birds and rats, bones etc, Ryan brings me the remotes. Anytime we sit down to watch TV he hunts down all of the remotes, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt;/&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;dvd&lt;/span&gt;/cable, and lays them out in a neat row before me then stands back to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;gauge&lt;/span&gt; my approval. He seems to take pleasure in this too &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Maybe you have to see it in action to appreciate the humor, but it's funny. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I should note as well, that this does not only apply to the TV in the family room. We usually fall asleep to the TV in our bedroom (I know I know,...terrible &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;habit&lt;/span&gt;) and if there's a time when I get home after he has already fallen asleep (usually after a late night of hanging with my Logan gals) I find him tucked into bed with the remotes to the bedroom TV laid out in a neat row on my pillow. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hehehehe&lt;/span&gt;. He's so wonderful. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;How&lt;/span&gt; in the world did I end up in a marriage with total control of the TV? -and I don't even have to look for it or find it first, it's handed to me! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Maybe he figures if I have total reign over the TV at my fingers I'll feel my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;control&lt;/span&gt; need met and won't try to interfere in other areas of his life. If so, smart Ryan,...very smart. I do try to be a fair ruler though and not abuse the power of the remote. -I keep it on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;mutually&lt;/span&gt; enjoyed shows and save Iron chef for when he's not home. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-5329460841636300621?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/5329460841636300621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=5329460841636300621&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/5329460841636300621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/5329460841636300621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-golden-retriever.html' title='My Golden Retriever'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TKQKlbvAmII/AAAAAAAAAJo/wZqwKjnfbUA/s72-c/Picture+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-729047063308521515</id><published>2010-09-20T20:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T21:18:29.917-07:00</updated><title type='text'>UFO</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TJgt-knQSRI/AAAAAAAAAJY/59jhb5xSZYw/s1600/Picture+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519211896346003730" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TJgt-knQSRI/AAAAAAAAAJY/59jhb5xSZYw/s400/Picture+013.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mom came up in Aug JUST for me!!!! She flew in Wed night and then Thursday we headed up to Logan for the Utah festival operas! We've done this before (a few years ago) and believe me, it is not for the faint of heart. On the first day you hit a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;matinee&lt;/span&gt; and then you have a few hours after that before you have to be back for an evening performance. Then you crash at a hotel and do it all over again the next day. -another &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;matinee&lt;/span&gt; and evening performance. It's super awesome if you like musicals and operas (which we do) but I think that Ryan would rather be whipped than try to sit through four performances in a row. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This year the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;performances&lt;/span&gt; were as follows&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The sound of music -which I thought w&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ould&lt;/span&gt; be my favorite and turned out to be my LEAST favorite&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Guys and Dolls -which I didn't realize "luck be a lady" and "I love you a bushel and a peck" were both from (all of the old people in the audience did though ...and believe me, there were a LOT of white heads bobbing to bushel and a peck)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;La &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Triaviata&lt;/span&gt; which I'd never seen performed before and totally fell in love with but had to laugh because it was the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;stereotypical&lt;/span&gt; opera with a fat lady dying at the end&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and the barber of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;seville&lt;/span&gt; which I have seen before, but I've never seen it done this well. It was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;hilarious&lt;/span&gt;. I think even Ryan would have enjoyed it. I have to say though, I feel like an idiot because during the overture my mom leaned over and asked who wrote it and I said &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Mozart&lt;/span&gt;. DUH Rossini wrote it. a few days later I realized what I had said and have been meaning to call her and set the record straight, but forget to mention it. I hope you're reading this mom. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here's the thing about the sound of music. (and guys and dolls too) The lead &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;female&lt;/span&gt; roll they gave to (big surprise) Vanessa &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ballam&lt;/span&gt; -Michael &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ballam's&lt;/span&gt; daughter. (he runs the whole thing) I wouldn't really care except that she sucks. She sucks SO bad. It was really quite ridiculous and I don't even know what to say about it other than just thinking about it right now is making me pissed all over again. There are so many &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;talented&lt;/span&gt; girls out there that it kind of breaks my heart that they would give BOTH leads to her when she's so bad (both at singing AND acting) that it ruined the show. I'm seriously considering writing a letter of protest to UFO &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cuz&lt;/span&gt; really, I can't sit through another performance with her in it and I REALLY hope that my mom and I can do this again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Other than the Vanessa business, it was so much fun. I love my mom and I'm so glad we share this love of the fine arts. It was such a blast bunking with her and walking to our shows and having dinner together. OH, and kind of cool, the prophet showed up for sound of music too! (that kind of thing happens in Utah) I wonder if he was as offended by Vanessa &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ballam&lt;/span&gt; as I was. Even if he was, he probably wouldn't say anything mean like I do. He definitely wouldn't blog about how much he hated her. I really hate her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for an AWESOME time mom !!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-729047063308521515?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/729047063308521515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=729047063308521515&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/729047063308521515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/729047063308521515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2010/09/ufo.html' title='UFO'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TJgt-knQSRI/AAAAAAAAAJY/59jhb5xSZYw/s72-c/Picture+013.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-4453055453638711790</id><published>2010-09-20T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T09:40:47.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I was saving sugar for my wedding night"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TJeMnqcLFxI/AAAAAAAAAJI/smQov6UEtyY/s1600/Picture+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519034481401075474" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TJeMnqcLFxI/AAAAAAAAAJI/smQov6UEtyY/s200/Picture+005.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There's a boy in my ward that I have to post about. He's a really sweet well mannered nice boy, and every time Ryan and I see him we crack up laughing. He has the coolest hair EVER but we just can't help thinking it reminds us of,...well,... &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TJeMvcTAGsI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/fIAB9qao_as/s1600/rod.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519034615043463874" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TJeMvcTAGsI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/fIAB9qao_as/s200/rod.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are we crazy? All it takes is for one of us to bust out a Tod quote and we're gone. Our personal favorite is actually a Ned quote "well I wish you didn't have the devil's curley red hair" We love this kid. He makes Sacrament meeting entertaining.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-4453055453638711790?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/4453055453638711790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=4453055453638711790&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/4453055453638711790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/4453055453638711790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-was-saving-sugar-for-my-wedding-night.html' title='&quot;I was saving sugar for my wedding night&quot;'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TJeMnqcLFxI/AAAAAAAAAJI/smQov6UEtyY/s72-c/Picture+005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-3916113581813375855</id><published>2010-06-08T10:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T17:50:48.321-07:00</updated><title type='text'>grassy knoll more</title><content type='html'>The other day Ryan and I were in the family room and all of a sudden &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ryno's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; eyes lit up, his ears perked and he exclaimed, "THAT'S A BACK HOE!" &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ummmm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;,...excuse me? He ran to the window, threw open the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;blinds&lt;/span&gt;, and sure enough a back hoe was driving down our street. As funny as that is, Ryan's uncanny ability to identify construction equipment by sound is not the reason for this post. A back hoe was driving down our street because our little creek across the way was very close to overflowing and the city was bringing in sandbagging goods. We were headed out to our date a bit later and saw a bunch of people in the condos across the street (condos that back up to the creek) sandbagging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TA6AQJEI_xI/AAAAAAAAAIo/k9OPQ1Dg354/s1600/Picture+015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480458811356020498" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TA6AQJEI_xI/AAAAAAAAAIo/k9OPQ1Dg354/s400/Picture+015.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well we decided to join the sandbagging festivities. An hour or so into it, word got out (as it always does) and the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Mormon&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;battalion&lt;/span&gt; showed up and there were so many people there that we thought we could sneak away for dinner and a movie (Loco &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;lizard&lt;/span&gt; in park city and Iron man 2) Around midnight we got a call that they still needed people so we came home &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;changed&lt;/span&gt; clothes and were at it again until around 1 &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. yuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TA6APkAjpnI/AAAAAAAAAIg/Kc8V3gJTeY0/s1600/Picture+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480458801408878194" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TA6APkAjpnI/AAAAAAAAAIg/Kc8V3gJTeY0/s400/Picture+011.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It flooded &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;SOOOOO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; much. the river spilled out into the street and parking lot and the park that the river goes by had water up to six feet deep where there's usually no water. Sad Day. traffic's been a nightmare and there's tons of debris all over the place. It's since gone down a bit, but it's still really high. my arms are seriously sore from hauling all those 50 lb bags. lots of fun. And the poor geese lost the little grassy knoll that they so enjoy hanging out on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So the picture above is of the bridge that the water goes under to cross the street. Usually there's a good 3/4 feet clearance and as you can see, that's not the case. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;That&lt;/span&gt; picture was taken in the evening when we started sandbagging and the river rose at least two more feet by the time it peaked. Some of the bridges in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Murray&lt;/span&gt; park are submerged. Pretty crazy.&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/6277085681926248005-3916113581813375855?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/3916113581813375855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=3916113581813375855&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/3916113581813375855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/3916113581813375855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2010/06/grassy-knoll-more.html' title='grassy knoll more'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TA6AQJEI_xI/AAAAAAAAAIo/k9OPQ1Dg354/s72-c/Picture+015.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-6444856244303467722</id><published>2010-06-03T12:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T12:31:09.161-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scissor to the knuckle.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TAf_Z4pgZUI/AAAAAAAAAIY/l6p57HEkrgI/s1600/Picture+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478628291887785282" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TAf_Z4pgZUI/AAAAAAAAAIY/l6p57HEkrgI/s400/Picture+010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The other night I was over at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;someone's&lt;/span&gt; home cutting their hair when all of a sudden...&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;woops&lt;/span&gt;, a big flap of skin had been &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;chunked&lt;/span&gt; off the top of my knuckle. It was some kind of gnarly and my whole arm kind of went numb with a touch of shock. luckily I stopped my sheers in time and it didn't cut completely through so I gingerly placed the flap back down, put a few band-aids on and finished up the haircut. I am a soldier. When I was walking home (they're in my ward -right across the way) I looked down and blood had soaked through all three layers of band-aid. sick huh? The picture above doesn't do it justice -stupid 4 &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;megapixel&lt;/span&gt; camera, but it's gross and I'll probably have a scar. =( Of course I've nipped myself here and there before, but this is my biggest wound yet. I'm hoping this is as bad as I'll ever get. I'm just glad i got had made the apt to have my sheers sharpened the next day instead of that morning. -they were extremely dull when the damage was done. Imagine if they had been at their peak.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-6444856244303467722?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/6444856244303467722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=6444856244303467722&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/6444856244303467722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/6444856244303467722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2010/06/scissor-to-knuckle.html' title='Scissor to the knuckle.'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/TAf_Z4pgZUI/AAAAAAAAAIY/l6p57HEkrgI/s72-c/Picture+010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-8461951325151177310</id><published>2010-05-26T21:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T23:13:06.665-07:00</updated><title type='text'>two interesting tidbits</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S_36quJIvsI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/1wzYVRCrh0Y/s1600/Picture+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475808333800193730" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S_36quJIvsI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/1wzYVRCrh0Y/s400/Picture+002.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So there are a couple of interesting things relating to the picture above. First is that it is actually NOT a plate of potato salad that Ryan has brought home for me and Second is the manner in which he acquired this plate of interest.&lt;br /&gt;So the stuff looks JUST like potato salad. It's so weird. You shove a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;fork full&lt;/span&gt; into your mouth preparing for savory mushy potato goodness and your buds are &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;immediately&lt;/span&gt; hit with,....sweet and creamy??? This, my friend, is the trickery of the snickers salad. snickers &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;candy bars&lt;/span&gt; chopped up into small pieces with diced granny smith apples all tied together in a vanilla pudding whipped cream concoction. Weird? absolutely. Delicious? absolutely. Ya, you're kind of sad that you're not getting to eat potato salad and you do feel a little misled, but you can't really be bummed for too long because, um, it's snickers salad. Who &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;in the&lt;/span&gt; world would be sad to be eating snickers salad. Not me.&lt;br /&gt;So now you're wondering how in the world Ryan came to bring this home or even &lt;em&gt;know&lt;/em&gt; about it.&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;(I had certainly never heard of it before) Well people, how do I even phrase this...&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ryan&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ryan&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ryan&lt;/span&gt;. He,...well he works it. I'm not even sure what he's doing, but it's working because he is CONSTANTLY bringing home treats from all the female students at his school. (If you can't remember or didn't know), Ryan works for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;everest&lt;/span&gt; college and although he doesn't teach anymore, he still has a lot of interaction with the students. I'm thinking that somehow, somewhere along the way he sent some sort of message that could have been any number of things; my wife doesn't feed me enough treats, you'll get a better grade if you bring me a delicious tasty, my wife doesn't know how to make very good treats...the list goes on. -NONE of the above are true, bye-the-way. Or maybe that's not even it. Maybe he pulls a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;high school&lt;/span&gt; girl &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;maneuver&lt;/span&gt; and sneaks a backpack of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;skanky&lt;/span&gt; clothes out the door with him in the morning, changing before he gets to work. Would a little leg be enough to make those girls want to shower him with sugar? perhaps. and they do. FULL PIES! not even kidding. More than one student has given him a full pie of his very own and one student even made him TWO full pies. The last pie that he got came with a brand new can of whipping cream. I feel the need to point out that Ryan doesn't even &lt;em&gt;like&lt;/em&gt; pie. In fact, he barely eats treats of any kind (a terrible thing that I've been working relentlessly on curing him of for the last three years). So,... who ends up eating all this crap? me. of course me. no wonder I'm &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;turning&lt;/span&gt; out to be such a little butterball. This is my cross to bare. -and if you hadn't already guessed, the snickers salad did, in fact, come from a student. but he did eat most of that one -thank heavens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-8461951325151177310?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/8461951325151177310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=8461951325151177310&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/8461951325151177310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/8461951325151177310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2010/05/two-interesting-tidbits.html' title='two interesting tidbits'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S_36quJIvsI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/1wzYVRCrh0Y/s72-c/Picture+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-6542204474159652829</id><published>2010-04-01T18:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T19:22:30.139-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hair on hold</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S7VQrMA58aI/AAAAAAAAAII/Mo0pi0KC4n8/s1600/Picture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455355226518843810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S7VQrMA58aI/AAAAAAAAAII/Mo0pi0KC4n8/s400/Picture.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;unfortunately&lt;/span&gt; I'm not going to be able to do hair for about a month and a half. =( This morning as I was headed out to do the usual day off errands I may have hit the guy in front of me at a stop light. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mazda&lt;/span&gt; wasn't harmed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;toooooooo&lt;/span&gt; much, but unfortunately my wrist can't claim the same. The air bag was deployed and my hand happened to be in the wrong place. Ryan and I spent all day in the ER only to discover that I now have a hairline fracture in my radius. oh fun. How crappy is this though? The last time I had a cast it was made of this awesome plaster of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Paris&lt;/span&gt; stuff that was easily &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;taggable&lt;/span&gt;. I was kind of expecting the same thing -despite the fact that the medical industry has had at least twenty years of advancement since then. The new stuff, albeit baby blue, is so rough and fibrous that you can barely get a set of initials on that cast without destroying your sharpie. It sucks! Everything about this cast is so extremely annoying ESPECIALLY typing. All I have to work with good old lefty is a couple of fingertips and a thumb that occasionally makes an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;appearance&lt;/span&gt;. On the up side, Ryan will be doing a lot more for me around the house; cleaning, cooking, massaging my feet, typical servant boy stuff. I'm already thinking of possible outfits for him to don. ...something slutty. Hey, whatever it takes to distract from the tight annoying cast right? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess it's a kind of a good thing that the cast has put me out of commission work-wise, because we're down to one car now while they decide if the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Mazda&lt;/span&gt; is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;salvageable&lt;/span&gt;. I'm secretly hoping it's not, because obviously the only thing that's kept us from getting a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Maserati&lt;/span&gt; is the fact that we already have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Mazda&lt;/span&gt; that's been in perfect working condition. So we'll see I guess. Maybe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;THAT's&lt;/span&gt; what I'll do all day long. shop online for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Maseratis&lt;/span&gt;. (just in case). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oh, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;ps&lt;/span&gt;, my hair is dark now. Even though the red/orange was really pretty and I've never had so many people say to me, "is that your natural color?" or "oh! you guys are going to have red headed kids for sure" it was just fading way too quickly all the time. But the dark is good too! and, AND it has a really awesome green streak in it. I was trying to talk everyone I know into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;putting&lt;/span&gt; some green in their hair but no one would do it so I had to step up and handle it. You can't see it in this picture, but trust me, it is very cool looking. I get a lot of comments on it too, but happily no one has yet mistaken THAT for something my body produced naturally. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-6542204474159652829?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/6542204474159652829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=6542204474159652829&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/6542204474159652829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/6542204474159652829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2010/04/hair-on-hold.html' title='hair on hold'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S7VQrMA58aI/AAAAAAAAAII/Mo0pi0KC4n8/s72-c/Picture.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-6520445866182982500</id><published>2010-03-25T11:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T11:58:31.757-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need a fly swatter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I am coming down off a total adrenaline rush and now I have a bit of a situation. It's a nice spring day (I can say spring day right??? it's almost APRIL for crying out loud -I'm choosing to ignore the forecast for the weekend) So I got back from the Dr this morning and what did I find? a freaking WASP in my home -and were it ONLY a white &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Anglo&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Saxon&lt;/span&gt; protestant. No no...it was the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;awful&lt;/span&gt; huge flying bug that can sting relentlessly and never dies. (I should have said "sting relentlessly without dying" but in my nightmares they never die so I'm letting it ride) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was downstairs swooping through the air and checking out our light fixtures for potential nests, I'm sure, and I couldn't handle it so I went upstairs to hide. What else was I supposed to do? We don't currently own a fly swatter, it was flying all over the place, and I really really really hate them. I figured, Fine. If it wants to busy itself making a home in my light instead of trying to find a way out and then getting pissed because it can't and then getting in the stinging mood, I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; with that. I'll just have Ryan destroy our lights when he gets home. Problem solved. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I ventured downstairs &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;briefly&lt;/span&gt; to grab some water (avoiding the nest making zone) and on my way back upstairs happened to look down (thank you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Divine&lt;/span&gt; power of intervention) RIGHT before I was about to step on THE WASP! yes, that is correct. It was CLIMBING the stairs to find me. What. The. Hell. I ran into my bathroom and shut the door. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I realize this all sounds dramatic over a stupid bug, but really...I hate them. a lot. I hate bees because they sting you, but at least then they die. I like to think that they take that into consideration and thus only sting when left with no other choice. wasps do not have such thoughts in their head and they're a lot bigger. I must have had a traumatic experience when I was little or something because I really do just freak to a ridiculous extent. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So my rational side had a bit of a chance to catch up to me whilst sequestered in the loo and I realized that I could not spend the entire day in there. I also realized that 'it' being on the ground was actually an advantage for me so I looked around frantically for something to kill it with. (things that I didn't care if they got wasp &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;juice&lt;/span&gt; on). I grabbed a hand towel and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;whipped&lt;/span&gt; it with it. Let me explain. In times without a fly swatter I have seen people do this and kill flying bugs with it. mistake. it is NOT the ideal tool for eliminating a wasp. It just got so pissed. --maybe a tiny bit stunned, but certainly not dead, just really pissed. I knew it was going to attack so I grabbed a nearby shoe and slammed it a couple of times. STILL not dead but a little dazed. Crap. crap crap crap. Back to the bathroom for something else. HAIRSPRAY! I sprayed it with a rather &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;extensive&lt;/span&gt; stream of aerosol &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Sebastian&lt;/span&gt; maximum hold and still it crawled around. HOW IS IT DOING THIS? I figured the shoe idea was good, my shoe just wasn't heavy enough. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;RYAN's&lt;/span&gt; shoe to the rescue and it died. At this time I would just like to say, that it's seriously a bummer he just wasn't here in the first place. Isn't that supposed to be one of the perks to being married? bug removal? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452645742498585890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S6uwadesnSI/AAAAAAAAAIA/EltZiyPdkGQ/s400/Picture.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Now I'm faced with a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;dilemma&lt;/span&gt;. This tragedy happened right at the top of my stairs. I am not interested in picking the thing up and I don't want to accidentally step on any dismembered limbs that went flying in the take down. Is it wrong the I'm really going to leave it there until Ryan gets home to remove of it? Of course I'm going to put a glass over the top of it in case it really isn't dead and just tricking me, but that's about as close as I'm willing to get. Sorry for the long post. I feel better after letting it all out though.&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/6277085681926248005-6520445866182982500?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/6520445866182982500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=6520445866182982500&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/6520445866182982500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/6520445866182982500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-need-fly-swatter.html' title='I need a fly swatter'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S6uwadesnSI/AAAAAAAAAIA/EltZiyPdkGQ/s72-c/Picture.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-3894246529199289657</id><published>2010-03-20T22:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T22:10:10.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ryanism</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S6WpjDLCD2I/AAAAAAAAAH4/zMfaONu77qM/s1600-h/cell.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450949343613947746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 115px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 124px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S6WpjDLCD2I/AAAAAAAAAH4/zMfaONu77qM/s400/cell.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So the other morning Ryan and I were in the bathroom getting ready and we were discussing a text that I had sent him the day before. The conversation ended, a silent minute or so passed, and then Ryan turned to me and said, "honey, we're textually active" hehehe. Good one. And yes. Yes we are.&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/6277085681926248005-3894246529199289657?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/3894246529199289657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=3894246529199289657&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/3894246529199289657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/3894246529199289657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2010/03/ryanism.html' title='Ryanism'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S6WpjDLCD2I/AAAAAAAAAH4/zMfaONu77qM/s72-c/cell.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-3474384376331796873</id><published>2010-03-13T15:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T12:05:18.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the rest of Florida and Savannah</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5wjPDjrgVI/AAAAAAAAAHw/gPWSZThX-RM/s1600-h/Picture+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448268390771425618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5wjPDjrgVI/AAAAAAAAAHw/gPWSZThX-RM/s400/Picture+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After the manatees we went to a zoo and saw...MORE manatees. But not just manatees, HIPPOS TOO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5wjOQL9pHI/AAAAAAAAAHo/PwvjWnnGlmA/s1600-h/Picture+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448268376981742706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5wjOQL9pHI/AAAAAAAAAHo/PwvjWnnGlmA/s400/Picture+008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is Lou. The first hippo I think I've ever been this close too. He was AWESOME! I think these big fellas just passed up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;giraffes&lt;/span&gt; to top the list of favorite zoo animals. I love a good long neck, but these things are so meaty and have such stubby little legs. i love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5wjNXXmYcI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Jz6KzvJRARE/s1600-h/Picture+026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448268361729728962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5wjNXXmYcI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Jz6KzvJRARE/s400/Picture+026.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After Florida we drove to Savannah and it was AWESOME. I love it there. love it. We went on a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ghost&lt;/span&gt; tour one of the nights and went down into the rum cellar of the pirate house (where all the pirates used to hang out and the first two chapters of treasure island were written) We saw the rum tunnels that led out to the water where &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sailors&lt;/span&gt; were kidnapped and we ate there too. It was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5wjMxPtcpI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Hbe_92FaNj8/s1600-h/Picture+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448268351496090258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5wjMxPtcpI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Hbe_92FaNj8/s400/Picture+019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We also took a day tour and walked through an amazing house, we ate at the Lady and sons, (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Paula's&lt;/span&gt; restaurant), we went out to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Tybee&lt;/span&gt; Island and saw the lighthouse and Ryan found a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Georgia&lt;/span&gt; bulldogs restaurant. -he was really really excited about that. -besides, he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;needed&lt;/span&gt; a little pick me up after the abuse he got the previous night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You see, when the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;trolley&lt;/span&gt; picked us up at the hotel for our ghost tour, we stepped on board to find about twenty five tipsy elderly woman ....and that's it. Even the DRIVER was a woman. They were all over Ryan it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;hil&lt;strong&gt;AR&lt;/strong&gt;ious&lt;/span&gt;.  The first thing we heard when we stepped on the trolley was some 60 year old yelling "fresh meat" followed by an uproar of cackling. Cat calls, ...asking him if he "needed a mommy"... and then from one even more mature, "hell, I'll be his grandma!" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;hehehe&lt;/span&gt; They were on him all night poor thing. I tried to defend him as best I could, but it was me against a hoard of drinking daisies. there was nothing I could do. Finally when the night was over and they dropped us off at the hotel, I figured if you can't beat'em, join'em. I looked back as we were walking in, to make sure we had all the ladys' attention still on the trolly (of course they were all enjoying the view of Ryan's back side) and slap-grabbed his bum for all to see. You should have heard thr roar that went up from inside that trolly. The Windows were all closed because it had gotten cold, but you could hear the eruption within. A wave of squeels whoops and laughter swept out into the night while we continued to walk through the doors; Ryan's head help high the whole time. (I think he liked all the attention)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our hotel was beautiful, the city was incredible, the weather was great and we even got to eat at Noble Fare (an insanely delicious fancy restaurant with an ever changing menu and truffles &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;galore&lt;/span&gt;) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;courtesy&lt;/span&gt; of Kev-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;dawg&lt;/span&gt; and Kay (it's their favorite restaurant of ALL time). It was the best three days ever and I'm so glad we made it one of our stops. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-3474384376331796873?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/3474384376331796873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=3474384376331796873&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/3474384376331796873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/3474384376331796873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2010/03/rest-of-florida-and-savannah.html' title='the rest of Florida and Savannah'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5wjPDjrgVI/AAAAAAAAAHw/gPWSZThX-RM/s72-c/Picture+009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-7648125701319386124</id><published>2010-03-10T19:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T20:01:06.680-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Manatees</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5hnziiSASI/AAAAAAAAAHI/SyW3nIrXLVo/s1600-h/01110005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447217884446196002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5hnziiSASI/AAAAAAAAAHI/SyW3nIrXLVo/s400/01110005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So Ryan and I  took a trip down south in Feb. It was an awesome road trip that started in Crystal River Florida and ended in St Louis. I'll explain the whole trip, but this post alone is dedicated to Florida and the manatees. Three years ago I met Ryan's uncle who happens to live in a place that sees the highest influx of manatees in the winter months. Turns out,.. you can go swim with them and he does it all the time. &lt;strong&gt;I &lt;/strong&gt;wanted to swim with them. Who wouldn't right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5hnzFaZRrI/AAAAAAAAAHA/5q9K8oHAXbU/s1600-h/01110009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447217876628489906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5hnzFaZRrI/AAAAAAAAAHA/5q9K8oHAXbU/s400/01110009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It took us a few years, but we made it and it was a-ma-zing! Seriously. THey were evereywhere. You had to be careful not to hit them with your fins. the little babies were so cool and playful and the moms didn't care if you were touching them. I am SO glad that we got to do it. Thanks to uncle James and aunt Joy for letting us come out. Above is Ryan with a baby and I'm below with a baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5hnyc5l0tI/AAAAAAAAAG4/fdHDLMY3AAU/s1600-h/01110013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447217865753481938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5hnyc5l0tI/AAAAAAAAAG4/fdHDLMY3AAU/s400/01110013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Funny anecdote for you. before we got in the water the guide told us that they really liked to be scratched under their arm pit and if we wanted them to stick around for a while just do that. Fine. Easy enough and it's true, they loved it. Toward the end we noticed some babies sucking on their mom's armpits though,...weird we thought. Oh wait,...they were nursing. that's right, manatees nipples are in their arm pits. NO freaking wonder they liked us rubbing them there. We got to second base with a whole lot of manatee that day. It was awesome!&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/6277085681926248005-7648125701319386124?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/7648125701319386124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=7648125701319386124&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/7648125701319386124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/7648125701319386124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2010/03/manatees.html' title='Manatees'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5hnziiSASI/AAAAAAAAAHI/SyW3nIrXLVo/s72-c/01110005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-2318917292352629253</id><published>2010-03-06T18:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T18:37:16.501-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chili cook off</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5MLslEC8PI/AAAAAAAAAGg/43MGs1H9c9g/s1600-h/chili.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445709234912293106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 124px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 93px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5MLslEC8PI/AAAAAAAAAGg/43MGs1H9c9g/s400/chili.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Every year the park ward has a chili cook off. This is pretty much the highlight event for our ward. Last year Ryan and I didn't realize what a huge event it was (please excuse us, we were new) and arrived late. Mistake. All the chili was gone by the time we got there. Well this year we were determined to make up for that. Well, Ryan has developed quite the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rapport&lt;/span&gt; in our ward and we were asked to be judges this year too -&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ensuring all&lt;/span&gt; the chili we could possibly want. Side note, You should have seen the way Ryan's eyes lit up when they asked him; as if every hope and dream he'd ever had was being fulfilled. My eyes probably looked like they could already feel the heart burn coming on. &lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445710344204618290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 126px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 89px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5MMtJf8ijI/AAAAAAAAAGo/yYkCb1srTak/s400/PUUNAPCAHQY1MNCA26CCXOCAEJ8DX7CA6760BSCAWEAJO3CAFJ9YC8CA7YAVRHCANHUTQ1CAO20MYFCABKXK94CAXH9UZSCA1MREUVCAZCTM75CABZ5M5ICARZK5JZCAHZY220CA3KL9CPCATR84HFCAC60W9M.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Of course we wanted to submit a chili of our own, but we had a bit of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;disagreement&lt;/span&gt;. I wanted to submit the best chili I've ever tasted, Halloween Chili (named so because my mother-in-law D.A.O. makes it every &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Halloween&lt;/span&gt; for her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;trick-or-treating&lt;/span&gt; children and grand children) Ryan, however, does not adore her chili the same way that I do (how does it feel under that bus Ryan?) and wanted to submit something with a little more spice. Thus, two entries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445711400179488754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 137px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 103px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5MNqnT-V_I/AAAAAAAAAGw/E5G_-_NtNnA/s400/9061CKCA06MD1QCAZFVP31CANL8M3ZCACX7UXXCAVNRW9JCAOHT5QECAE97R9ECAFKMRDNCAQGVFIDCAP0HL1MCAXP0Y2LCA6QYIP2CAG8NQV2CAFWZHHPCA2LQ0JLCALD1BD0CARFD99ECAJ3RFKWCA2YPHV5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right, brother Ostler &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;against&lt;/span&gt; Sister Ostler going head to head. (we were judging the other half of the room so it was completely fair) Tension was high when the awards began, but then they called it. Best in show goes to......Brother ostler. Now let me throw a few things out there. FIRST, Ryan's pot had a good two inches left in it at the end of the night, and mine was scraped to the bowl. to the bowl! SECOND, our entire primary class AND one of the judges from our side said that mine was way better by far. THIRD, Ryan had a whole lot of time left home with my chili while I was at work and he was making his. ----I'm not calling foul play...just saying. FOURTH, my cause may not have been helped by the fact that I made a sign with arrows pointing to our individual &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;chilis&lt;/span&gt; with a note asking people to let us know if they thought mine was better. -I'm guessing that the judges don't respond well to poor sportsmanship. FIFTH and finally, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;DAO&lt;/span&gt; and I were robbed. This is all I have to say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-2318917292352629253?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/2318917292352629253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=2318917292352629253&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/2318917292352629253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/2318917292352629253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2010/03/chili-cook-off.html' title='Chili cook off'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/S5MLslEC8PI/AAAAAAAAAGg/43MGs1H9c9g/s72-c/chili.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-2222603135967909722</id><published>2009-11-02T10:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T10:51:29.054-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OCTOBER</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8lxIYUgGI/AAAAAAAAAGY/wTGmxLD39-4/s1600-h/Picture+262.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399576004233822306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8lxIYUgGI/AAAAAAAAAGY/wTGmxLD39-4/s400/Picture+262.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm sorry I'm behind on my blogging but 1, I kind of suck at it, and 2, October is a busy month. It started out with my parents, grandma and aunt/uncle coming up to hang out in Wyoming for conference weekend. I didn't get any pictures up there, but it was really fun to hang out with everyone. Kev-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dawg&lt;/span&gt; and special Kay even arranged their flights so they could spend a little extra time with Ry and I doing millions of nice things for us. I've often said i have the best parents in the world, and they make an honest girl out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8lwtegyXI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/eaWqxBL_X4E/s1600-h/Picture+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399575997012035954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8lwtegyXI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/eaWqxBL_X4E/s400/Picture+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here's dad fixing our leaky tub ---leaking so very badly that it was a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;constant&lt;/span&gt; stream of water. He also fixed our sink which was almost as bad. Not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;only&lt;/span&gt; that, but he bought and installed a new radiator and hoses for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;mazda&lt;/span&gt; which he says was only running by the grace of God. -he's said that to me a couple of times now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8lwIlEo5I/AAAAAAAAAGI/Sp8wpqcRbnQ/s1600-h/Picture+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399575987107439506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8lwIlEo5I/AAAAAAAAAGI/Sp8wpqcRbnQ/s400/Picture+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Meanwhile, mom was buying me all of this at Costco!!! I love &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;costco&lt;/span&gt; and I love food and I love my mom. Thank you guys so so so so much for everything that you did for us that weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8lvzY1uDI/AAAAAAAAAGA/vSm4beOvcCM/s1600-h/Picture+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399575981418985522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8lvzY1uDI/AAAAAAAAAGA/vSm4beOvcCM/s400/Picture+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We also visited Oktoberfest to eat schnitzel and polka and visit one Walt at his pretzel stand. It was the best pretzel I've ever eaten, bye-the-way. Yet another year has past that I didn't have time to make some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;liederhosen&lt;/span&gt; for Ryan to wear, but one of these years... one of these years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8lvVUFsCI/AAAAAAAAAF4/ETww4wwm1Og/s1600-h/Picture+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399575973345996834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8lvVUFsCI/AAAAAAAAAF4/ETww4wwm1Og/s400/Picture+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; On the 16&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; we celebrated our year anniversary. We decided to visit a new Temple each year on our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;anniversary&lt;/span&gt; and since I couldn't take any time off from school it had to be a short trip. It was my year to plan it and I chose the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Manti&lt;/span&gt; Temple. We stayed at this bed and breakfast in Spring City and ate dinner in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Manti&lt;/span&gt;. Unfortunately, I'm not very good at planning and didn't bother to call and make sure that the Temple would be open. It wasn't. I suck. It was still fun though. Ryan liked the porch swing the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-2222603135967909722?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/2222603135967909722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=2222603135967909722&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/2222603135967909722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/2222603135967909722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2009/11/october.html' title='OCTOBER'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8lxIYUgGI/AAAAAAAAAGY/wTGmxLD39-4/s72-c/Picture+262.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-3098780283874262445</id><published>2009-11-02T08:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T10:29:02.086-08:00</updated><title type='text'>witches and pumpkins</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8MzbzyI6I/AAAAAAAAAFw/4wp2uWSEkAw/s1600-h/Picture+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399548556018328482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8MzbzyI6I/AAAAAAAAAFw/4wp2uWSEkAw/s400/Picture+012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My good friend Jenny came down to hang out with me for a night of witches. -it's sort of a tradition now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8Myku9psI/AAAAAAAAAFo/BvpsYhN2uug/s1600-h/Picture+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399548541234161346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8Myku9psI/AAAAAAAAAFo/BvpsYhN2uug/s400/Picture+018.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8MyM9gyoI/AAAAAAAAAFg/Mrn7dfS1I9w/s1600-h/Picture+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399548534852733570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8MyM9gyoI/AAAAAAAAAFg/Mrn7dfS1I9w/s400/Picture+021.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We had dinner and set out for the witches at gardner village. I took a lot of pictures in hopes of getting my mom excited about heading up to see us again in October of 2010. You know you want to mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8MxSInUWI/AAAAAAAAAFY/H9LEx5pgQ20/s1600-h/Picture+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399548519061606754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8MxSInUWI/AAAAAAAAAFY/H9LEx5pgQ20/s400/Picture+016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After the witches we went back to my place and she helped me decorate some sugar cookies that I had made. Hers had a little more character than mine. For example,...the one pictured below is "winking". I happen to think he looks like he had a stroke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8Mw4tLNpI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/GaYQGJnL3iY/s1600-h/Picture+030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399548512235632274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8Mw4tLNpI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/GaYQGJnL3iY/s400/Picture+030.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Thanks for coming down and having night of halloween with me Jfro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-3098780283874262445?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/3098780283874262445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=3098780283874262445&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/3098780283874262445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/3098780283874262445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2009/11/witches-and-pumpkins.html' title='witches and pumpkins'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8MzbzyI6I/AAAAAAAAAFw/4wp2uWSEkAw/s72-c/Picture+012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-4736878588946879244</id><published>2009-11-02T08:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T08:42:33.124-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HALLOWEEN</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399545302186613986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8J2CV2XOI/AAAAAAAAAE4/bdp8kylmWhw/s400/Picture+273.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To get ready for halloween and get into the spirit of it all a little bit more, we went to a haunted ...something. It was up at this is the place where they have all these historical buildings and stuff. Most of the haunted walk was outdoors through trenches and tunnels and stuff and it was kind of creepy and then occasionally you would walk through one of the buildings and that was REALLY creepy because it was filled with old antiques and stuff. But it was fun --picture of us waiting in line below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399545310171526098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8J2gFmc9I/AAAAAAAAAFA/SkiMU6MSA9Q/s400/Picture+031.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8J2yOwU7I/AAAAAAAAAFI/7TrdCi7F8SI/s1600-h/Picture+034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399545315041760178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8J2yOwU7I/AAAAAAAAAFI/7TrdCi7F8SI/s400/Picture+034.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And then on the acutal big day we dressed in costume and went up to the AOs for traditional chilly and to hang out with the rest of the family. Ryan's costume was a labor of love. It probably took three times longer than mine took. It was totally worth it though. He got to wear it to our ward's trunk or treat night too, so he was pretty excited to have more than one place to show it off. hehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6277085681926248005-4736878588946879244?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/4736878588946879244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=4736878588946879244&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/4736878588946879244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/4736878588946879244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2009/11/halloween.html' title='HALLOWEEN'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Su8J2CV2XOI/AAAAAAAAAE4/bdp8kylmWhw/s72-c/Picture+273.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-6412854063786122338</id><published>2009-09-30T18:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T18:59:15.389-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank you Bulldogs</title><content type='html'>WARNING If you're not a "foot person" skip this post. -it's just that the following picture might possibly make you want to puke. I, on the other hand, don't mind feet at all. This is good since part of the curriculum at school involves pedicuring the nastiest of them. When I can get my hands on a nice pair of toe nails to paint I'm pretty stoked though. Mostly I have to content myself with my own, but I've recently discovered an even better set. I was painting my toes into a cute little pattern and caught Ryan eyeing me in the act a couple of times. After I finished, Ryan -in the most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;masculine&lt;/span&gt; way possible for such a request, nonchalantly suggested that if I were to paint his toes with the Georgia Bulldog's emblem that perhaps it would bring them luck for their upcoming game. He didn't have to ask me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;twice&lt;/span&gt;. Below are the results -and yes... the Bulldogs won. I'm not sure if he likes the attention that he gets from having his toenails painted in a cool way, (his students take pictures of them) if he secretly likes the pampering aspect of it all, or if he just sees how much I enjoy it and tries to be a nice husband by letting me do his too (his really are better than mine because they're bigger, you know, more surface area) But I don't really care what the reason is, I'm pretty excited that he's secure enough to let me at them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SsQJRgnVhLI/AAAAAAAAAEw/MKd7L3kDSIU/s1600-h/Picture+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387441250659304626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SsQJRgnVhLI/AAAAAAAAAEw/MKd7L3kDSIU/s400/Picture+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Mine are cute too aren't they. -except for the mess up on the big toe. =( Sad.&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/6277085681926248005-6412854063786122338?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/6412854063786122338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=6412854063786122338&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/6412854063786122338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/6412854063786122338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2009/09/go-bulldogs.html' title='Thank you Bulldogs'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SsQJRgnVhLI/AAAAAAAAAEw/MKd7L3kDSIU/s72-c/Picture+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-1510036188659899067</id><published>2009-09-22T19:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T21:52:25.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So after publishing that last post, I realized that I still had a lot of pictures. So here is Ryan's Ostler Party part two for your viewing enjoyment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrmDpc2NJlI/AAAAAAAAAEo/LGPKHmcxg2g/s1600-h/Picture+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384479577639560786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrmDpc2NJlI/AAAAAAAAAEo/LGPKHmcxg2g/s400/Picture+012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Above we have Ryan's dramatic entrance. Doesn't he look like he opened the ceremonies well? Well he did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrmDo2DrUyI/AAAAAAAAAEg/TSexh9OHFoQ/s1600-h/Picture+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384479567227081506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrmDo2DrUyI/AAAAAAAAAEg/TSexh9OHFoQ/s400/Picture+013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is mighty Ceasar with his brother-in-law Walt. Walt got jealous and insisted on wearing a gold head piece too. Ryan (as you can tell from the look on his face) didn't know how he felt about that, and Walt started referring to himself as Brutus. -things got a little weird. &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrmDoVBCuOI/AAAAAAAAAEY/9O3dFx_bBX0/s1600-h/Picture+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384479558357661922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrmDoVBCuOI/AAAAAAAAAEY/9O3dFx_bBX0/s400/Picture+016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And the Ostler Party creator herself looking so official with her clipboard to make sure the scores were documented so that things remained fair. -interesting though,.. team red (her team) ended up being the winning team. hmmmmm....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrmDoFFiRSI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/GvN89_Gr_fc/s1600-h/Picture+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384479554081539362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrmDoFFiRSI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/GvN89_Gr_fc/s400/Picture+017.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; More toga goodness. Becca, DAO, me, Lauren and Kimberly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrmDngbo7xI/AAAAAAAAAEI/4ek4xvtcpag/s1600-h/Picture+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384479544242138898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrmDngbo7xI/AAAAAAAAAEI/4ek4xvtcpag/s400/Picture+021.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ryan isn't particularly fond of too many treats (could we possibly be any more opposite in this reguard?) So instead of a cake he opted for one of his few loved deserts, the banana, pudding, vanilla wafer, whipped cream concoction. I LOVE using my trifle bowl and figured this would be the perfect occasion so I layered it all up. Aren't trifles so pretty? I should've taken more time to make sure all the layers were showing though (you can't even see the other layers of wafers. sad) In this picture, Ryan is making sure that Becca's smile is sufficiently big for the goodness that IS the banana, pudding, vanilla wafer, whipped cream concoction. I think he was satisfied because shortly after, he blew out the candles. Oh...and there were presents too, but I was making the trifle during all that business so no pictures. It was an AMAZING party and thanks so much to Mom O for all the time and effort put into it. !!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-1510036188659899067?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/1510036188659899067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=1510036188659899067&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/1510036188659899067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/1510036188659899067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2009/09/so-after-publishing-that-last-post-i.html' title=''/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrmDpc2NJlI/AAAAAAAAAEo/LGPKHmcxg2g/s72-c/Picture+012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-8631033520034071810</id><published>2009-09-22T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T21:43:46.664-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ryan's Ostler party</title><content type='html'>So everyone in the family gets an Ostler party for their birthday, but using the simple word "party" doesn't quite do it justice. Deborah Ostler pulls out all the stops with these shindigs and every one of them is themed and decked out to the nines. Ryan's was on Sunday and I'm sure you can guess that it was freak'n awesome by the pictures below. Ryan, of course, enjoyed the spotlight looking stoic as Ceasar in our ancient olympic themed birthday party -or was she secretly going for frat party.... either way, there were togas EVERYWHERE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Srl5Wm3o80I/AAAAAAAAADY/OwzY--OKxiE/s1600-h/Picture+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384468258796139330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Srl5Wm3o80I/AAAAAAAAADY/OwzY--OKxiE/s400/Picture+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I like to do my part to encourage these themed parties and in preparation for this one I made faux olive branch head pieces for Ryan and I. As Ceasar, he got a cooler gold one to wear, but my greenies were still pretty sweet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Srl5WENW-ZI/AAAAAAAAADQ/CU1gU-Zwy_8/s1600-h/Picture+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384468249491995026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Srl5WENW-ZI/AAAAAAAAADQ/CU1gU-Zwy_8/s400/Picture+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; -I decided to throw in a picture where you can see it better (but still not awesome) because propper credit needs to be given to the coolness ....ok fine, they weren't that cool,.. but they took me like an hour to make so I need to document them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Srl5Vr_ZlRI/AAAAAAAAADI/3SmIk3B6G7g/s1600-h/Picture+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384468242990994706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Srl5Vr_ZlRI/AAAAAAAAADI/3SmIk3B6G7g/s400/Picture+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Everyone got a toga to wear and the color of sash you picked out determined the team you were on for the games. Games you ask? Oh yes, games. it wouldn't be an Ostler party without some theme coordinated activity --I only wish I had started documenting these parties sooner because there have been some pretty amazing activities involved here. &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Srl5VIf41lI/AAAAAAAAADA/1cy05omoSkU/s1600-h/Picture+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384468233463584338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Srl5VIf41lI/AAAAAAAAADA/1cy05omoSkU/s400/Picture+011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ryan started off the games by making a dramatic entrance to the back yard with olympic music in the background. He held his torch high enough to make any wife proud. ...and then he began lyrically dancing about the yard to the music -which strangely enough made me even more proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Srl5U_p7mUI/AAAAAAAAAC4/81qCdhzALW8/s1600-h/Picture+015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384468231089789250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Srl5U_p7mUI/AAAAAAAAAC4/81qCdhzALW8/s400/Picture+015.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was our first event -the Javelin -opening a straw at one end and seeing who could blow the paper off of it the farthest. DAO herself, creator of all Ostler Parties, won this event. In my head I accuse her of putting in hour after hour of practice pre-games to perfect her technique though. After that we had a disc through and the hurdles. -both awesome,.. but I forgot to keep taking pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-8631033520034071810?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/8631033520034071810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=8631033520034071810&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/8631033520034071810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/8631033520034071810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2009/09/ryans-ostler-paty.html' title='Ryan&apos;s Ostler party'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/Srl5Wm3o80I/AAAAAAAAADY/OwzY--OKxiE/s72-c/Picture+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-3529128288330631471</id><published>2009-09-15T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T21:00:44.199-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HE'S 32!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrBZLnjvNsI/AAAAAAAAACw/srrTID5OqSU/s1600-h/Picture+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381899610840053442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrBZLnjvNsI/AAAAAAAAACw/srrTID5OqSU/s320/Picture+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; On the 13th Ryan turned 32 years old. Old man Ostler wanted to hit the Utah State fair to celebrate the night before (his birthday fell on a Sunday this year) so that's just what we did. We paid a buck each to see a giant gater (trailer pictured above) that Ryan loved, of course -but I think it was a fake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrBZLPDHBFI/AAAAAAAAACo/i_2sm4AucfY/s1600-h/Picture+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381899604260750418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrBZLPDHBFI/AAAAAAAAACo/i_2sm4AucfY/s320/Picture+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We saw all of the livestock -probably the highlight of the fair for us, and even found where my side of the family comes from. Those crazy Arnolds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrBZKqNd2MI/AAAAAAAAACg/LogDSk_pkmk/s1600-h/Picture+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381899594372077762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrBZKqNd2MI/AAAAAAAAACg/LogDSk_pkmk/s320/Picture+005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I tried to join them -or at least get a better look at the piglets. (they were very cute) Oh, and Ryan also showed me the goodness of funnel cakes! They're SO good! but really? do I actually need another high fat food to add to my list of cravings? Great. (sarcasm)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrBZKI1KCpI/AAAAAAAAACY/4WBcasyuMkE/s1600-h/Picture+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381899585411746450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrBZKI1KCpI/AAAAAAAAACY/4WBcasyuMkE/s320/Picture+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; On Sunday -the ACTUAL big day, we went and ate delicious burgers that his student made for us, we took a very nice long nap, his sister Rachel gave us TONS of food (they're moving and don't want to store it so we were MORE than happy to take it off their hands), he opened his presents, and then had his birthday dinner -he requested home made stuffed shells and an oreo peanut butter shake in place of a birthday cake. It was actually a pretty awesome day. Thanks everyone for all of the phone calls and gifts (especially the food Rachel because I'm definitely benefitting from that one as well). Thanks for making Ryan feel so special even though he's so very old now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrBZJwZafXI/AAAAAAAAACQ/T59BiqMwWpw/s1600-h/Picture+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381899578852932978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrBZJwZafXI/AAAAAAAAACQ/T59BiqMwWpw/s320/Picture+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I think it was a good birthday all in all -pretty low key and relaxed but the way he wanted it.&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/6277085681926248005-3529128288330631471?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/3529128288330631471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=3529128288330631471&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/3529128288330631471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/3529128288330631471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2009/09/hes-32.html' title='HE&apos;S 32!!!'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SrBZLnjvNsI/AAAAAAAAACw/srrTID5OqSU/s72-c/Picture+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6277085681926248005.post-6117729719138732600</id><published>2009-09-06T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T21:01:10.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A REAL SATURDAY!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>One of the hardest things about cosmetology school is that you go Tuesday through Saturday. (Sunday and Monday are your days off) With a lot of the holidays landing on a Monday ...we kinda get screwed. BUT NOT THIS TIME! We petitioned for a Saturday off for the labor day weekend and we won! I decided that I would take this Saturday and do everything that I love so much about the day that one can really only do on a Saturday that I've been missing so much. So here you are.&lt;br /&gt;I started off the day by going to a garage sale!!!! There are few who really know of my love for garage sales and even less who understand it. I can't say that I quite know myself what draws me to want to look at other people's junk but i LOVE it. I think it's the thrill of the hope that I'll find something really awesome. (kinda like pirate treasure hunting). It doesn't happen often, but yesterday was one such day that will keep me seeking out garage sales the rest of the summer and into the next.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SqQB9AwYTMI/AAAAAAAAABg/qmm-q-zMO0c/s1600-h/Picture+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378426002673781954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SqQB9AwYTMI/AAAAAAAAABg/qmm-q-zMO0c/s320/Picture+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm a ribbon junkie. I love pretty ribbon to decorate packages...jars of jam...ANYthing with. Good ribbon is not so cheap though -especially the kind I like with the wire in the edges. Well this crazy lady was selling a huge bag of unused ribbon spools for two dollars. There were NINE spools of the ribbon in this bag and it was all the wire edged ribbon too -most spools still with the 3.99 price tag on them, one spool with a 9.99 price tag. ... it was the best thing ever! Just two dollars for the whole bag! Amazing. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SqQAJdIcagI/AAAAAAAAABY/u-QRgQaLJOU/s1600-h/Picture+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378424017426082306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SqQAJdIcagI/AAAAAAAAABY/u-QRgQaLJOU/s320/Picture+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So next I headed to the farmers market that they hold in Murray park just across the street from us. Fruit, vegetables and bread everywhere! Every time I turned around people were offering me samples of their peaches or loaves of bread (the bread was the best) and most people don't know this, but it's kind of a dream of mine to some day makes breads galore to sell at a farmer's market. I was in heaven. Plus the weather's been amazing and it was such a pretty day to be outside. low 70s and cloudy with a light breeze. After that I went to my FAVORITE store ever and used a gift card that I've been ho&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SqQAISlQnyI/AAAAAAAAABI/aJ3DAEe3TiA/s1600-h/Picture+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378423997414285090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SqQAISlQnyI/AAAAAAAAABI/aJ3DAEe3TiA/s320/Picture+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;rding in my wallet for a couple of years now. I love guilt free shopping!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I feel bad that I was doing all of these fun things while Ryan was at the AOs (mom and dad in-law) mowing the lawn? ....hmmm a little bit, but then I came home and joined him on the couch for his much anticipated game...the Georgia Bulldogs first game of the season. Well actually, he watched the game while I worked on my halloween costume (sewing machine's dead so I'm reduced to hand stitching folks. Bad news) Yes, i don't fool around with halloween, it comes early at the Ostler house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SqQAH5bkiWI/AAAAAAAAABA/ZPvVfYPLS7k/s1600-h/Picture+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378423990662760802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SqQAH5bkiWI/AAAAAAAAABA/ZPvVfYPLS7k/s320/Picture+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SqQAH5bkiWI/AAAAAAAAABA/ZPvVfYPLS7k/s1600-h/Picture+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so happy to get a real Saturday after months of torture driving to school past farmer's market signs and garage sale after garage sale while Ryan was home chilling without me. But not this Saturday, it was an awesome day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6277085681926248005-6117729719138732600?l=ostleriot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/feeds/6117729719138732600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6277085681926248005&amp;postID=6117729719138732600&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/6117729719138732600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6277085681926248005/posts/default/6117729719138732600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ostleriot.blogspot.com/2009/09/real-saturday.html' title='A REAL SATURDAY!!!!!!'/><author><name>ostleriot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16242427500782135592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D9SM8O0DSMg/SqQB9AwYTMI/AAAAAAAAABg/qmm-q-zMO0c/s72-c/Picture+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
