tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-143778212024-03-07T15:54:08.584-08:00Dear LucyLetters to my daughter as she grows. Isn't this an amazing, wonderful, and oft confusing world we live in?Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.comBlogger172125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-21909967660050262072013-04-09T12:03:00.001-07:002013-04-09T12:03:39.884-07:00Nearly 9Dear Lucy,<br />
You are nearly 9 and ready for new adventures! Soon, we will all be flying away...<br />
Has it really been 3 years since my last post here? Since I don't want to regret not keeping up, I shall start here again!<br />
Love,<br />
MomSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-70299578664835023832010-05-01T21:12:00.000-07:002010-05-01T21:22:21.211-07:00Catching up & inspirationDear Lu, <div><br /></div><div>In 14 days, you will be 6! It seems unbelievable and I know the next 6 years will go by just as fast. You are reading so well now, and so interested in your studies. We made your bed into a twin size tonight which left you with less play space in your small room. You said, "that's okay -- I'm older now -- I should concentrate more on my work." </div><div><br /></div><div>Some statistics -- </div><div><br /></div><div>Since January, you have grown 1 inch. You are now 44.5 inches. Not sure about weight, but you must be (finally) close to 40 lbs. </div><div><br /></div><div>You have all 4 of your 6 year molars, yet have not lost one baby tooth. I think you will lose a few at once!</div><div><br /></div><div>You enjoy all subjects, but your favorite subject is really, truly thinking about the world around you. Your recounted a story from the lunch table at school in which you were discussing the existence of God with your classmates. You have determined that even though you don't believe in her (your choice of gender, there), everyone can believe what they like and there's no need to argue. Wow. I love this, and I love you. We can only lead you in this openness in the world. Many people ask, "what will happen if Lucy's not a Buddhist when she grows up?" To me, this is a silly question -- you will be, and believe, what makes sense to you. We can only guide you to make good decisions and live a calm and happy life. Right now, philosophical complexity is not our top priority. We are certain you will find it on your own, at good time for you! </div><div><br /></div><div>We love you, oh so much. There have been some difficult times (okay, months), but we are coming together as a family to figure it all out. </div><div><br /></div><div>Love, Mom. </div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-40955766016261688112009-11-08T23:19:00.000-08:002009-11-08T23:24:58.599-08:00Animal HouseToday we saw Nana and Papa for the first time in weeks. The are back from a trip to Australia and recovering okay. Since you have been into making your own toys, I suggested you build a toy with Papa. You were both excited and, after a nap, retired to the garage where we could hear sounds of saws, drills and serious hinge discussions. After a while, you were finished. Both of you beamed with pride as the animal house made it's debut on the damp driveway pavement. Photos to come! <div class="iblogger-footer"><br clear="all"/><p style="text-align:right;font-size:10px;">[Posted with <a href="http://illuminex.com/iBlogger/index.html">iBlogger</a> from my iPhone]</p><br/></div><br />Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-78125719077677917552009-11-07T21:08:00.000-08:002009-11-08T09:27:01.820-08:00DownpourToday we were in the city, but separated. It was raining hard, but you managed to be mostly happy and agreeable. One of your favorite things to do is sit in coffee shops with us, and we appreciate that.<br />Anyway, the rain was falling down -- but your spirits were up -- until we had to change plans late in the day. At least you looked cute in your new monkey hat. Your tears made me sad -- you seem to be more and more honest with your emotions these days. Sometimes I can see your 12 year old self and I feel torn. Maybe even a little nervous!Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-16474696644703880352009-11-06T22:55:00.000-08:002009-11-06T22:59:30.613-08:00GazelleLike the gazelles who were your "prey" today at school, you move gracefully through 5.<br />You make silly jokes and count to 10 in Spanish.<br />Tonight, when bedtime was mentioned, you raced us up the stairs. Dad made the "pinch me" sign as you eagerly chose your pajamas.<br />There was 6 minutes of meditation and a late-entry snack of apples.<br />Now, as you sleep, I think of the next day with you and await the weekend smiles.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-22400879784560980032009-11-05T20:11:00.000-08:002009-11-06T08:15:22.572-08:00PatternsYou work a lot with patterns at school and we love to talk about them with you. Today's patterns were about numbers -- 10 is to 9 and ? is to ? -- and you were able to count backwards and figure them out. So proud!<br /><br />Tomorrow you will make a lion mask and go out with the rest of your pride.<br /><br />Have I mentioned how much I love your school?Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-8002686247045383462009-11-04T22:36:00.000-08:002009-11-04T22:39:48.788-08:00TurbulenceSo fish Dorothy, or Silver, or whatever her name was passed on today. There was too much water in the bowl and she must have flopped out in the afternoon. It was a sunny afternoon, and she was by the window, and I like to think she was jumping out toward the light, hoping for a tasty bug treat.<br /><br />Anyway, it was a rough evening, with lots of arguing and some crying too. And then we kept on learning of other tough things in your day -- falling down, tears on the bus, choosing the wrong group and fear of public bathrooms.<br /><br />All in a day's work. Every day is a good day, so here's hoping for tomorrow!Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-10127903454788215632009-11-03T21:28:00.000-08:002009-11-03T21:31:06.039-08:00Tonight's storyHey Lu, I want you to tell me a story.<br /><br /> Do you want a <span style="font-style: italic;">surreal </span>story, or a real one.<br /><br />How about one of each.<br /><br /> Okay.<br /><br /> (Pause)<br /><br /> I can't think of a surreal one right now.<br /><br />That's fine, sweetie.<br /><br /> (Pause)<br /><br /> Ben was my special friend at school today and we played monsters on the playground and....Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-63729133085494564662009-11-02T23:13:00.000-08:002009-11-02T23:17:02.204-08:00Prides and SchoolsTonight at dinner...<br/><br/>Mama, today in school we learned what different groups of animals are called!<br/><br/>Really? Give me an example. <br/><br/>Lions have prides and fish are in schools. <br/><br/>I so love your school; we are so lucky!<div class="iblogger-footer"><br clear="all"/><p style="text-align:right;font-size:10px;">[Posted with <a href="http://illuminex.com/iBlogger/index.html">iBlogger</a> from my iPhone]</p><br/></div><br />Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-15849355108199436142009-11-01T17:29:00.000-08:002009-11-01T17:31:23.334-08:00And so Lucy will have a record of her life...in NovemberDear Lucy,<br />So you are in Kindergarten. And amazing one! You are rocking new red glasses and a fancy attitude, playing well with others (as usual). You can harness your emotions -- in positive and furious ways -- and have made some amazing friends. Us too! We all went on an amazing, cross-country trip and found you love to travel. 8 hours in the car? No problem.<br />More soon (tomorrow!) --<br />Love,<br />MomSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-9999581898053441362009-06-12T22:22:00.000-07:002009-06-12T22:38:57.668-07:00(official) Birthday post coming soon...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja2HnV-HYGi-e2iEeijeDA2bCfU4WaVNxgUGE7ktu0viowJDpOZic0oNVoKNiVgsqrqOX9VH0hIexhWLare2rTQ4zIFduygfJD6K6v0vQ7mHVto3kwLqQRmxcnxXHO8lviY0uO/s1600-h/IMG_0260.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja2HnV-HYGi-e2iEeijeDA2bCfU4WaVNxgUGE7ktu0viowJDpOZic0oNVoKNiVgsqrqOX9VH0hIexhWLare2rTQ4zIFduygfJD6K6v0vQ7mHVto3kwLqQRmxcnxXHO8lviY0uO/s320/IMG_0260.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346682249215104242" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS1UYkhbbwlUlN0ACxYMGwZLL5y-53kKMEZIDkIwMFn59hlr3BMHHWxicl0v5_U9_lb33ayszg1btq3yKynrqoRrdWq3NnBmE-BX9y8JKsus6dRzJVssQkoj2xV772QG5n1kJz/s1600-h/IMG_0232.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS1UYkhbbwlUlN0ACxYMGwZLL5y-53kKMEZIDkIwMFn59hlr3BMHHWxicl0v5_U9_lb33ayszg1btq3yKynrqoRrdWq3NnBmE-BX9y8JKsus6dRzJVssQkoj2xV772QG5n1kJz/s320/IMG_0232.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346682242801222114" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnt1vn7HV8qJParlsOFLkNYw5Fj5jQQrJFXLR7yHYbSHhl4l3w9nNndhQoiVODrd19ur8B8_06-1VNYLCtExWGE65hwPt54kD7n53JbzMTmdXfC1q1ZFecnvf_y23iKeflKQ0r/s1600-h/IMG_0199.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnt1vn7HV8qJParlsOFLkNYw5Fj5jQQrJFXLR7yHYbSHhl4l3w9nNndhQoiVODrd19ur8B8_06-1VNYLCtExWGE65hwPt54kD7n53JbzMTmdXfC1q1ZFecnvf_y23iKeflKQ0r/s320/IMG_0199.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346682244847417186" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyRrul0-VHiKNdxum0Ib5vCIFNoISLmAXLO9wU8ZndTY5yLGmnXVRb4pP2p5fXsEAewnz2NoZZQ1_dEJtHKaxSiL2aNs_cU2nPLPIeN54b-Co8cKWvuLMdMUl99wMETSw9rQ2D/s1600-h/IMG_3148.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 182px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyRrul0-VHiKNdxum0Ib5vCIFNoISLmAXLO9wU8ZndTY5yLGmnXVRb4pP2p5fXsEAewnz2NoZZQ1_dEJtHKaxSiL2aNs_cU2nPLPIeN54b-Co8cKWvuLMdMUl99wMETSw9rQ2D/s320/IMG_3148.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346682241278556786" border="0" /></a><br />Last week, you called your ankle "the waist of [your] leg." Tonight you insisted, "only round money goes to the bank, not the rectangular kind!"<br /><br />As of May 15th, you are 5 and we are learning more about this amazing age every day.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-4248182943821140102009-04-27T11:39:00.000-07:002009-04-27T11:44:46.630-07:00Last night"Mom, I love you every day -- I'll love you forever. You are the best mom ever! I love you so much. I love to give you kisses? Can I rub your neck? Do you feel better?<br /><br />Dad, you are going to live in Asia, where there are a lot of storms. You will live there when you are a grandpa. You can't live with us.<br /><br />Mom, I want to live with you when I'm grown up, but Dad won't be here. Only girls -- we'll put up a sign on the house that says, 'girls only.' (Whispered) Right, mom?!"<br /><br />(Laughter)<br /><br />Guess I'm ranking high this week!Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-82135904814688131322009-04-22T18:57:00.000-07:002009-04-22T22:02:15.837-07:00Conversation: healthL - "Tomorrow, you are going to take a break from coffee."<br /><br />M- "Really?! No way."<br /><br />L- "No, not you. Dad. Dad drinks <span style="font-style: italic;">way</span> too much coffee."<br /><br />M- [Laughs]<br /><br />L- "He needs to eat more healthy things."<br /><br />M- "Is that so?"<br /><br />L- "Yes! He needs to eat more apples."<br /><br />M- "Why does he need to eat more healthfully?"<br /><br />L- "Because he needs to eat more healthy things. That's all!"Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-81697795938771143222009-03-29T11:10:00.000-07:002009-03-29T11:21:56.607-07:00Grace in Small Things: 5 of 3651. "I'm going to change Myra's last name to Pretty...actually, to Nice."<br /><br />2. Your excitement about sports, especially at the baseball game last night.<br /><br />3. Watching your "kids" grow and change: today, you were measuring them to see how much they've grown.<br /><br />4. Mamma Mia sung in a restaurant bathroom. I'd never heard you sing the song before -- you said you learned it from friends at school.<br /><br />5. Impromptu dancing!Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-88581827884242388342009-03-23T18:26:00.000-07:002009-03-23T18:30:30.528-07:00Grace in Small Things: 4 of 3651. Watching your first Buddhist precept ceremony -- you received a beautiful mala after making your promises.<br /><br />2. Dancing to "What A Feeling."<br /><br />3. Listening to Nana read you every book you wanted to hear!<br /><br />4. You LOVE cilantro and declared the dinner tonight was perfect and wonderful.<br /><br />5. Making brownies with you: even though you don't like chocolate, you enjoy baking them for other loved ones.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-13081843343241180502009-02-27T23:46:00.000-08:002009-02-27T23:56:41.206-08:00Grace in Small Things: 3 of 365Things you've said this week:<br /><br />1. "Weren't you paying attention?! Do you even know what's going on?" (Said while discussing the Sprout show Angelina Ballerina. Apparently I didn't "get" the plot.)<br /><br />2. "You're a SHAMELESS mom!" (Spoken in harsh tones--but delivered with a smile--to me because I was teasing Dad while climbing the stairs to bed.<br /><br />3. You have this way of telling us how far you want us to leave your pocket-style bedroom door open at night. "Leave it a little bit lower" has, until this week, been your way of saying you just want a sliver of light coming through. This week, "I want it a little backer" is your new way of communicating you want it open a bit wider.<br /><br />4. You've been falling asleep in the car on the way home from school. It is an instant -- and deep -- sleep wherein you want to be held on the couch before settling into dinner. You press you cheek into my chest and mumble a shoe removal request before slumbering for a few, blissful, moments.<br /><br />5. "I love you so much too, Mom. Is tomorrow a hang out day or a school day?"Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-55108611078022903032009-02-21T13:16:00.000-08:002009-02-21T13:21:16.793-08:00Grace in Small Things: 2 of 3651. Pink tights and extra-small, pastel, cotton camisoles<br /><br />2. Compound words you learned to read: starfish, bathtub<br /><br />3. "I jump and jump so I can be big and strong!"<br /><br />4. Strawberry Shortcake socks<br /><br />5. Springwater School (fingers crossed!)Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-81000405879116502632009-02-15T21:39:00.000-08:002009-02-15T21:49:53.948-08:00Grace in Small Things: 1 of 365No excuses. Let's get started! A wonderful blogger called <a href="http://www.schmutzie.com/">Schmutzie</a> started <a href="http://graceinsmallthings.ning.com/">Grace in Small Things</a> back in November. I finally decided it may be easier to remember the little things as they are -- beautiful little bites of our days together.<br /><br />*******<br /><br />1. "You are my favorite friend," words of thanks for organizing our house.<br /><br />2. Listening to you play on your own and taking care of your babies.<br /><br />3. Sparkly shoes and spring skirts -- bouncing, blond curls.<br /><br />4. Your patience and adoration.<br /><br />5. Birthday party stories told to the ophthalmologist at LensCrafters. Without asking, you explained exactly how your hot pink glasses became bent: "I climbed up this HUGE wall and then I was sliding down and my friends were there and we tumbled into each other! I didn't cry, but my glasses were bent. Wow."Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-65989077261671903082009-01-07T09:24:00.000-08:002009-01-07T09:27:56.125-08:00Funny dreamThis morning as I was coaxing you into the day -- you asked me to cover you up, but not to talk, and not to kiss you -- you turned and said, "I had a funny dream." "Really?" I replied. "Yes! A mom had a mustache! Isn't that funny?" you croaked out in your cute, groggy voice.<br /><br />The light in your eyes -- the light of remembering a dream -- was a new light. We've talked about bad dreams before, but sometimes I've wondered if you've been making them up as conversation starters. This time, I could tell it was a real memory of your subconscious meanderings.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-67051242858097850492008-12-29T18:30:00.000-08:002010-05-01T21:10:59.225-07:00giftsYou received many wonderful things on this holiday season, but one of the most generous was a gift of money. It was delivered in paper bills in shiny, green tin. After discussing what could be purchased with the money, I tucked it away for safe keeping. A moment later, you said, "where's the cash? I want to hold it!"<div class="iblogger-footer"> <p style="text-align:right;font-size:10px;">[Posted with <a href="http://illuminex.com/iBlogger/index.html">iBlogger</a> from my iPhone]</p><br /></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-16050978253481442782008-12-05T21:09:00.000-08:002008-12-05T21:18:45.755-08:00The Santa IssueWhile reading "The Night Before Christmas" tonight before bed.<br /><br />"I wish Santa was real."<br /><br /> "What?!" Cue: looks of horror, both of us wondering what to say.<br /><br />"Do<span style="font-style: italic;"> you </span>think he's real?"<br /><br /> "<span style="font-style: italic;">My</span> Santa is real." You mean the Santa you see at Bridgeport Village. Side note--when you've seen other pictures of Santa, you've asked, "did Santa change his face?" That dude is <span style="font-style: italic;">the </span>Santa to you and all others must be...not real?<br /><br /> Looking at the picture you exclaim, "look at him flying around!"<br /><br />"Does your Santa fly around?"<br /><br />"No! No, he <span style="font-style: italic;">walks!"<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"</span></span>He does?"<br /><br />"Okay, actually he drives a minivan! That's what he does."<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /></span>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-2971914301500708602008-11-30T20:58:00.000-08:002008-11-30T21:16:21.666-08:00Homestretch & PromisesAnother year of <a href="http://www.nablopomo.com">NaBloPoMo</a> is coming to a close. I am thankful to the amazing <a href="http://www.fussy.org">woman</a> who came up with the idea, and the thousands of others who participate. There is something to be said for a seed that gets a practice going.<br /><br />All of my life I have struggled with practices: writing, painting, meditation. I need to be in a group of some kind to really do the hard work. In past years, I have tried to put out a promise that I would write more, or better, or at least more earnestly, for you. Every year I have failed.<br /><br />It seems that parenting is a collection of daily failures; in voice and in action. My attempts, although often sloppy, are genuine. I am so proud of who you are quickly becoming.<br /><br />When you were a tiny baby, I told you that being a sensitive person is okay. Crying or exhibiting fear--even when it seems exaggerated or unnecessary--is just fine. I want you to feel good about your emotions, even when they don't match the world's expectations.<br /><br />You are reading real words now, and working with numbers. Everywhere we go you are sounding out and decoding the written word. You like to count everything and can add up how many errands we have to run, or things we need to pick up at the store.<br /><br />So my promise to you is not how many times I'll write in a week or a month, but how I will compose and record my thoughts. In the past, I've been hesitant to write down 'real' goings-on. That is, if I'm frustrated with an interaction, I tend to pull away from writing here. I'm going to turn that around and see where it takes me. I want this to be a true record, no matter how sappy or negative I may be feeling at the time.<br /><br />That being said -- I love you and will always love you no matter what path you choose. Tonight at dinner, you said, "When I grow up, I'm going to have a baby in my belly." I felt a surge of nerves and anxiety fill up my chest because I just can't imagine it. I can't imagine your spot at the table empty. But I can't let the worry of what may be--what will be--overtake me. <br /><br />Please dear, let me hold your hand a few more years.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-79324245400067795172008-11-29T22:09:00.000-08:002008-11-29T22:47:14.131-08:00Bugle -- a guest post from DadYour grandpa has a yen for old instruments picked up from thrift stores and church basements. On this trip, you have taken up the bugle. It's true! Your sense of voice, tone, and craftsmanship seems to move up by the minute.<br /><br />Tonight you were doing an almost spot-on version of Jingle Bells, one of the first songs that you learned to sing. Yesterday, you recorded a song. You simply love Papa's bugle.<br /><br />Since your baby days, you have resisted any attempts that I have made to play guitar. It has been a source of grief and frustration over the years. Now, with bugle in hand, you are asking me to grab the guitar and "be the clown" in your marching band. As clown, I get to play guitar. I am not only playing, we are finding audiences of pretend friends and citizens all over the house. You cue me and that is fine. In fact, it is as it should be.<br /><br />I have played guitar on and off for almost twenty years. During that time, I have never been invited into a real band; until now. I can't think of any bugler I would rather follow, anybody's clown who I would rather be. Send me the cues, I will pluck and strum the funk and love of each moment as it unfolds. Let the band play on!Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-72258741955465342602008-11-28T21:33:00.000-08:002008-11-29T09:36:13.205-08:00Star of the show<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfr92GC0ps_ggaNJbCGm1a3fmUHjR9Kjk6IyfSrUcAAL0B_D8RSD14gQh1nKKuQm1quykUP7c6D-s8NH5wra-QvMk8kFykZ0mNE7xWcNRFYgTnWWSSI3hlogf2sZF0nGrmjUty/s1600-h/MyPicture.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfr92GC0ps_ggaNJbCGm1a3fmUHjR9Kjk6IyfSrUcAAL0B_D8RSD14gQh1nKKuQm1quykUP7c6D-s8NH5wra-QvMk8kFykZ0mNE7xWcNRFYgTnWWSSI3hlogf2sZF0nGrmjUty/s320/MyPicture.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274134305442637442" border="0" /></a><br />Taken tonight...<br />My little sweetie, stealing the light.<br />But I'll gladly give it to you.<br />xoSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14377821.post-19033903102872571572008-11-27T22:37:00.000-08:002008-11-27T22:40:57.790-08:00Happy Thanksgiving<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw11OCNFWa5pXt-2tiZEc50z1TXTsVGylApNqbGtE2EjO-VNQzky6sd-O3nih7ZTNIH4W285K4ZmgPlMLEN0h3YCZL3PqDyT8jMdDIAmW6i9t1N7-a8Kh4TJ12itPXyUl3WlFq/s1600-h/IMG_2722_2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 257px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw11OCNFWa5pXt-2tiZEc50z1TXTsVGylApNqbGtE2EjO-VNQzky6sd-O3nih7ZTNIH4W285K4ZmgPlMLEN0h3YCZL3PqDyT8jMdDIAmW6i9t1N7-a8Kh4TJ12itPXyUl3WlFq/s320/IMG_2722_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273594475087794626" border="0" /></a><br />I am thankful for many things. You--well, you are thankful for a lot of stuff too. But today, you were totally excited about blueberry muffins. Thank you for making them with me, my lovely.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03242765815232963467noreply@blogger.com0